In the realm of climate documentaries, where the urgency of the subject often demands a heavy-handed approach, "Time and Water" stands out as a peculiar and somewhat frustrating watch. Directed by Sara Dosa, this film takes a peculiar journey through Iceland's changing landscape, focusing on the life and work of climate author Andri Snær Magnason and the country's vanishing glaciers. While the documentary's intentions are clear - to highlight the devastating impact of climate change on Iceland and beyond - its execution leaves much to be desired.
One of the most intriguing aspects of "Time and Water" is its unique perspective. It delves into the personal experiences of Magnason, whose book "Of Time and Water" serves as the foundation for the film. By exploring his family's history and his own observations, the documentary offers a deeply personal take on the climate crisis. However, this approach also becomes a double-edged sword. While it provides an intimate glimpse into Magnason's world, it also risks becoming a self-indulgent affair, as the film meanders through his grandparents' home videos, which, while touching, feel more like a personal memento than a compelling documentary piece.
The film's tone is a curious blend of anger and elegiac blandness. It effectively conveys the urgency of the climate crisis, especially in the context of Iceland's rapidly melting glaciers. The global south's unbearable heat and its implications for geopolitical stability and migration are also touched upon. Yet, the documentary's pace and structure seem to resist the very urgency it aims to convey. The unhurried recounting of Icelandic history and myth, combined with Magnason's own family tales, creates a sense of detachment from the pressing issues at hand.
What makes "Time and Water" particularly fascinating is the contrast between the personal and the political. While the film highlights the very real and devastating consequences of climate change, it also risks becoming a mere personal narrative. The funeral scenes, for instance, are emotionally powerful, but they also feel like a distraction from the broader narrative. The audience is left wondering if the film is more about Magnason's family than the global climate crisis.
From my perspective, the documentary's strength lies in its ability to humanize the climate crisis. By focusing on Magnason's personal experiences, it invites viewers to connect with the issue on a more intimate level. However, it also risks becoming a mere personal anecdote, lacking the impact and urgency that such a critical issue demands. The film's structure, with its meandering narrative and excessive use of home videos, seems to prioritize the personal over the political, leaving the audience with a sense of unease and a longing for a more impactful approach.
In conclusion, "Time and Water" is a thought-provoking yet frustrating documentary. It offers a unique perspective on the climate crisis, but its execution falls short of the mark. The film's tone, structure, and focus on personal narratives instead of political urgency leave the audience with a sense of unease and a longing for a more impactful approach. Perhaps the very nature of the climate crisis, with its personal and political dimensions, is the reason why such documentaries are so challenging to craft. Either way, "Time and Water" serves as a reminder of the delicate balance between personal stories and political statements in the realm of documentary filmmaking.
