David Suzuki at Haida Gwaii, Force of Nature, dir. Sturla Gunnarsson (2010) 4 POINT OF VIEW 79 | FALL 2010 Docs & Indies: the new fall line Is David Suzuki a Force of Nature? Moving between a Canadian icon’s “legacy lecture” and revelations from his personal life, director Sturla Gunnarsson creates an indelible portrait here’s a reason that Neil Young’s Canada award-winning Air India 182, was initially 1990 song “Mother Earth” carries the approached by producer Laszlo Barna with the subtitle “Natural Anthem.” Its terse, cor- idea to make a movie about Suzuki. “When we Tuscating opening chords are more than a little spoke about the film, [David] didn’t see himself as reminiscent of “The Star Spangled Banner.” In a subject,” says Gunnarsson. “He imagined some- lieu of bombs bursting in air, Young envisions a thing that would take his theories and present “ball of fire in the summer sky” possessed of a them cinematically. But what I saw was a guy who “healing light.” In a voice rendered almost meek was 75 years old and at a very particular point in by the ragged glory of the surrounding guitar his life, dealing with his own mortality, and real- work, the singer asks the Earth, “how long can izing that he wasn’t going to be around forever.” you give and not receive?” It is a question tinged Reached via telephone at his offices in with equal measures of humility and righteous Vancouver, Suzuki is hesitant to talk about the indignation. film in such personal terms. He says, in fact, that This majestic track serves as the herald for he’s always been confused by society’s desire to Sturla Gunnarsson’s Force of Nature, a docu- know more about public figures (which didn’t mentary about and featuring David Suzuki. It’s preclude him from writing an autobiography). He a fitting transition from one Canadian icon to will confirm that he was tantalized by the poten- another. First glimpsed in his dressing room in tial of putting his big-picture ideas into a wide- the moments before delivering a “legacy address” screen format. “I’ve always been very impressed at the University of British Columbia, the with the difference in impact between a feature 75-year-old environmentalist, scientist and CBC film and television,” says Suzuki. “When an audi- prime-time icon might be an ence member is at home, he aged prizefighter facing his By A d a m N ay m a n might be distracted—he has reflection in anticipation of to go to the bathroom, have a a final bout. “It kind of feels like this is a wrap beer, put the kids to bed. He’s not watching in a of what I’ve been doing,” he says, addressing the fully focused, concentrated way. Whereas some- camera. “It really is a nice completion.” A pause, one who pays 10 bucks and goes to sit in a theatre and then a sideways smile. “I guess I can go home for 90 minutes has a very different relationship to and die now.” what he’s watching.” The joke is an attempt at self-deprecation but Cleanly photographed by Tony Westman it hints at a stickier sentiment. Force of Nature is and edited by the stalwart Nick Hector, Force of devoted to showcasing Suzuki’s continued vital- Nature holds audience attention without forc- ity as a thinker and speaker, but this seemingly ing it. The “legacy lecture” is more than just a offhanded jest hangs over the film like a shroud. framing device that allows for some gorgeous “He was at a point in his life where he was trying aerial nighttime shots of Vancouver and the UBC to distill it all,” says Gunnarsson in an exclusive campus. It gives the film its spine. Approximately interview conducted just days after the conclu- half of the film’s running time is devoted (non- sion of the editing process. The director, whose consecutively) to Suzuki’s oration, which unfolds ARI GUNNARSSON last documentary was the 2009 Directors Guild of in front of a sold-out audience and is backed FALL 2010 | POINT OF VIEW 79 5 by an evocative stream of video images space—is to simultaneously appreciate the by the intersection of national and per- that transform the stage space into what man’s storytelling abilities while shivering sonal history, revealing that he was ostra- Gunnarsson calls “a memory box.” “We at his conclusions. cized as a child by the other Japanese kids didn’t want the images to be illustrative, To be perfectly honest, a few of Suzuki’s at the camp. Because Suzuki’s family was like in An Inconvenient Truth,” says the rhetorical gambits ring hollow, like when he Canadian, he could not speak their native director, as if anticipating the inevitable tries to emphasize the difference between language fluently, and thus found him- series of comparisons between his film the physical world and human society by self stranded between two cliques—one and Davis Guggenheim’s 2006 Oscar win- reducing the world economy to nothing Japanese, one Caucasian—neither of which ner, which of course also featured a very more than a phantom. It’s a provocative wanted anything to do with him. famous person speaking in public about but simplistic formulation that doesn’t so Suzuki’s willingness to open up about his environmental issues. “We wanted [our much address the devastating complexi- past is admirable—and it apparently didn’t images] to be emotional and expressive.” ties of globalized exchange as shunt them come all that easily. “The big fear going in The projections are indeed quite lovely, expediently off to the side. Still, the basic was that we were just doing The Nature though with all respect to Gunnarsson and argument remains persuasive and scarily of Things: Bigger, Longer and Uncut,” says his technical collaborations, the visuals plausible: we’re using up our resources at Gunnarsson. “[This] really was the num- might only really be noticeable on a second a rate faster than the planet can replen- ber one challenge. We all like to stay in viewing. Chances are that most viewers ish them. While he’s presented these ideas our comfort zones—that’s why they’re our will be too caught up in Suzuki’s words to before in many different forums, Suzuki comfort zones. And I think it took David really notice the pictures behind him. If credits Gunnarsson for helping him to a little while to get used to the fact that Suzuki really did feel that this lecture was keep his discourse on track. “[Sturla] was he was the subject of the film, and not the as much the creator of the talk author. I noticed that during our interviews as I was,” says Suzuki. “I was he would go from talking to me to talking Director Sturla Gunnarsson putting down favourite lines to the camera, so we had to find ways to get from other speeches, and try- around that, like asking the same questions ing to cover everything at once. over and over in a different context.” Sturla kept reminding me that I To the director’s credit, he managed to only had an hour, and he really circumvent this problem without resort- helped me to shape the mate- ing to pounding his subject. When Suzuki rial and hone it down.” does show emotion—whether it’s about the Gunnarsson is wary about difficult irony of his having apprenticed taking too much credit for his at a facility in Tennessee that had previ- subject’s presentation, but he ously been instrumental in the develop- describes the process in very ment of the Manhattan Project or the slow similar terms. “David is a racon- dissolution of his first marriage due to his teur,” he says. “He can burrow overwhelming work commitments—it feels into subjects, digress, and then natural rather than manufactured. During WENDY ORD return to the first idea quite an interview shot at a bar in Oakridge, brilliantly. In a film, though, the Suzuki talks about responding to the rac- spine needs to be very strong ism he felt swimming around him in that and precise. So I was thinking lily-white community by becoming a rac- his last kick at the can, he chose to go down in terms of the overall filmic weave. I knew ist himself. “I hated white people,” he swinging. The speech addresses a host of where all of the beats were. The speech had says flatly, and the moment feels remark- early-21st-century realities, casting a glance to work as a speech, of course, but knowing ably unguarded—especially considering back at the modernist upheavals of the pre- certain things about the rest of the produc- Suzuki’s famously telegenic persona. vious 100 years, including the creation of tion, we were able to make it work in other It’s interesting to note that Suzuki’s the atomic bomb. It also has one eye on a ways, too.” career on The Nature of Things gets rela- future that he feels may be rapidly reced- The “weave” that Gunnarsson describes tively short shrift. There’s almost as much ing. In his best moments, Suzuki strikes the is the material arranged around the lec- archival footage of a shaggy-looking Suzuki balance between layman-friendly accessi- ture footage, which intends to both supple- skateboarding through the halls of UBC bility and soft-spoken scientific authority ment and transcend the portrait of Suzuki with his students in the early 1970s as there that he has cultivated for more than 40 as a public figure.