Leviathan

Made under the auspices of Harvard's Sensory Ethnographic Lab, filmmakers Lucian Castaing-Taylor and Verena Paravel's Leviathan is a non-narrative documentary set in the controlled chaos of a fishing trawler at work in the roiling seas off New Bedford, MA. Not that the viewer is cued to the location, ship's name, or much of anything about the crew; rather, the filmmakers deployed automated digital cameras on deck, with some passed from crewman to crewman, others floating in the surf, and more affixed to the hull, etc., in order to capture churning imagery that borders on pure abstraction. Sans narration, subtitles, or mood music, one plunges into a tempestuous universe of anchor chains and ill-glimpsed men in rain slickers shouting orders, as the ocean harvest is dredged and netted from the deeps. We literally don't know day from night or which end is topside, as the cameras show ever-present seagulls—which accompany the big boat looking for handouts—from every angle; birds that are practically indistinguishable from the fractal roilings of Atlantic sea foam. Nets dump numerous fish and marine organisms, dead and dying, into a hold where men stoically sort, gut, and fillet (one stereotype is confirmed: today's sailors still have mermaid tattoos). Audiences may find that a little of this goes a long way, but it's the next best thing to being there without risking an epic case of seasickness and might be interesting to fans of cinema vérité…or The Deadliest Catch. A strong optional purchase. Aud: C, P. (C. Cassady)