You might call it "l'art pour l'art". And stunningly beautiful it is. But 120 minutes of beauty still don't make it a film. A film needs pictures, but it also needs a true vision.
It is a published fact that the aerial cameraman Yann Arthus-Bertrand got the funding by Francois-Henri Pinault to shoot this movie long before it was ever decided what exactly it should be. In fact, after shooting for years in more than 50 countries, Arthus-Bertrand returned with a truck load of stunning footage. A lot of pictures and no story. The only common denominator being the expertise of camera aesthetics and an encyclopedic knowledge of hundreds of the best locations worldwide. After screening it, he couldn't help feeling a bit helpless, maybe even desperate. He had spent a lot of money and all he had to show for was beauty. Although his sponsors make a lot of money selling beauty, it is rather the story behind the beauty that is the selling proposition. Arthus-Bertrand had no story, except maybe the adventure tales of such an extreme undertaking.
This is where Isabelle Delannoy comes to the rescue. A woman who knows neither fear nor scruple. She takes a cunning look at the footage and knows how to tag it. She doesn't care that most funds for this project originate from enterprises selling to the happy few who account for 25% of global pollution and exploitation. Nor, that chasing hundreds of helicopters, jets and piston planes around the planet most probably had a carbon-dioxide balance comparable to a mid-sized western city. Nevertheless, Arthus-Bertrand is happy. Now he has a story and something to show for. Regardless how cynical it is, a bad story is still a lot better than none at all.
And here we are: looking at awesome pictures. And again awesome pictures, and yet more awesome pictures...and a narration that should make anyone blush who took money for writing or reading it.
So, what is it? It is not a documentary. Is it a sermon? Is it the letter of indulgence for PPR? Or PR for PPR? Or all of the above? It is certainly beautiful. But as in the case of Dorian Gray, there sometimes lies a very ugly truth behind a stunningly beautiful surface...
It is a published fact that the aerial cameraman Yann Arthus-Bertrand got the funding by Francois-Henri Pinault to shoot this movie long before it was ever decided what exactly it should be. In fact, after shooting for years in more than 50 countries, Arthus-Bertrand returned with a truck load of stunning footage. A lot of pictures and no story. The only common denominator being the expertise of camera aesthetics and an encyclopedic knowledge of hundreds of the best locations worldwide. After screening it, he couldn't help feeling a bit helpless, maybe even desperate. He had spent a lot of money and all he had to show for was beauty. Although his sponsors make a lot of money selling beauty, it is rather the story behind the beauty that is the selling proposition. Arthus-Bertrand had no story, except maybe the adventure tales of such an extreme undertaking.
This is where Isabelle Delannoy comes to the rescue. A woman who knows neither fear nor scruple. She takes a cunning look at the footage and knows how to tag it. She doesn't care that most funds for this project originate from enterprises selling to the happy few who account for 25% of global pollution and exploitation. Nor, that chasing hundreds of helicopters, jets and piston planes around the planet most probably had a carbon-dioxide balance comparable to a mid-sized western city. Nevertheless, Arthus-Bertrand is happy. Now he has a story and something to show for. Regardless how cynical it is, a bad story is still a lot better than none at all.
And here we are: looking at awesome pictures. And again awesome pictures, and yet more awesome pictures...and a narration that should make anyone blush who took money for writing or reading it.
So, what is it? It is not a documentary. Is it a sermon? Is it the letter of indulgence for PPR? Or PR for PPR? Or all of the above? It is certainly beautiful. But as in the case of Dorian Gray, there sometimes lies a very ugly truth behind a stunningly beautiful surface...