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September, 2008- For action sports filmmakers, especially
those who release a major production annually, as a company and
as artists their fourth is often their "crux" film.
Through the first two or three, a measure of excitement is gained
simply by being the "new kid on the block," but by
number four, that's over. The film and the filmmaker's approach
to getting it made, has to stand on its own. Curiosity and a
desire to support the latest home team's efforts play a much
reduced role in driving sales, while sponsors and potential sponsors
sometimes begin to wonder if their involvement has value beyond
"preaching to the choir." And all of this happens at
a time when the artistic ambitions of those behind the lens and
in the edit bay are tending to expand, not contract. It's not
for nothing that the previous tele filmmaker of note melted down
after producing a smashingly beautiful, award winning number
three. Exiting in number four with a hubris-filled tribute to
the trials and tribulations of the pro skier, and seemingly by
extension, the struggles of the abandoned by the know-nothing
industry artist. Blech.
And yet the formula for success
remains relatively uncomplicated: Offer up a beautifully shot,
stoke-firing film that represents your best effort to date, one
that delivers in every way while again surpassing expectations,
and the tele world will continue to beat a path to your door.
In a sentence, this describes exactly what the Powderwhores have
done in The Pact, the theme of which centers on all the
little deals we make with ourselves, and the truisms we follow
in our commitment to a well-lived telemark and backcountry skiing
life.
It's a theme that in heavier hands
could have turned out to be an over-serious, angst-fest, but
while the overall feel of the film seemed more mature than their
previous offerings, and far more mature than some of what has
come before from others-- no drunken teens get shot through the
cheek with a dart, there are no dogs humping, no navels self-consciously
gazed-- The Pact remains light hearted throughout, including
in the Nick Devore Alaska segment where the most dramatic, only
in the Chugash, "you are there" type helmet cam footage
I have ever seen segues quickly into the most dramatic "you
are now starfishing down the mountain" helmet cam filmed
fall that I have ever seen.
It's the kind of footage that will
have you grabbing the remote to watch it again and again. At
one point the video track captures Nick's POV of his now ski-less
boots, impressively tumbling against a maelstrom of a background,
but it's the huffing and puffing, gasping and gagging audio that
is most memorable. And it's fun to watch because the scene ends
happily with Devore skiing up to the camera smiling and laughing
it off, saying "I got fully Chew-Gashed," but not even
looking particularly worse for the wear and tear. Ah, to be 20.
Following this Nick puts on the
kind of performance one could only expect to see from telemark's
current premier big-mountain skier. He's something special, and
so is his segment, although it deserved better music. Was that
a Fear tribute band or what? I like a lot of stuff, but man,
that was harsh.
In comments on our TelemarkTalk
Forum, many have said they would like to see more women in the
Powderwhore's films, and in past years Noah and crew have struggled
to find women with the time and |
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