Dec 2

Dec 2 FILM REVIEW: "The Velvet Queen" is a poetic rumination on what humanity has done to the world

One week later, I am still daydreaming about the landscapes and mammalian silhouettes of The Velvet Queen. Directed by Marie Amiguet and Vincent Munier, this stunning documentary follows Munier, a world-renowned wildlife photographer, joined by adventurer and novelist Sylvain Tesson as they venture high up on the Tibetan plateau. They are in search of a sacred, untouched place where they might just catch a glimpse of the mysterious Snow Leopard.

The Velvet Queen is one of the titles screening as part of Perth Festival Lotterywest Films. This documentary is a poetic rumination on what humanity has done to the world, balanced by the awe and love for the earth and its creatures that Munier and Syvain both share and genuinely exude.

The vastness of the landscape is the first and enduring image of the film. Beige in colour scheme, the endless shots of mountains and valleys are a vacation for the eyes, a soothing respite from the ‘real’ world where we rarely gaze out into the distance.

We, the viewer, have joined them on what is called a ‘Blind’. A stakeout, if you will, where one waits out in the elements for hours, days, weeks on end in hope of observing and photographing rare, wild fauna. Tesson’s poetry and diary entries are narrated throughout the film. His own spiritual journey during the blind is poignant and somewhat shared by the viewer, as he begins filled with eagerness, then consumed by stubborn impatience, until he has an epiphany and finally arrives at a loving place of patience. To have patience is a key message embedded in the film.

There are textures and layers in the valleys that are seemingly empty, until Munier educates Tesson on how to spot the dense population of wildlife skillfully camouflaged before their very eyes, always watching them. Wolves, hawks and owls blend seamlessly into the rocky outcrops. There is so much life present where there is seemingly nothing. Both men are French who continually philosophise, blatantly expressing their romantic opinions of nature, which is such a pleasure to hear. They resent what humanity has done to the natural world, and as Tesson so eloquently puts it, ‘we are nature’s numbskulls’.

The score, composed by Nick Cave and Warren Ellis, is rich and haunting. It perfectly overlays the majesty of the imagery before us, whilst simultaneously serving as a grave warning that this awe-inspiring sanctuary is at risk of vanishing. It is not until the halfway point of the film that we finally hear Cave’s voice, perfectly placed at a truly magic moment, serving as a release to a particularly suspenseful build-up. No spoilers!

The Velvet Queen left me feeling truly enamoured. The camaraderie and often child-like curiosity displayed by Munier and Tesson was a pleasure to witness, as was the pristine footage of such an untouched place, perhaps made all the more alluring by the travel restrictions of these strange times. Dare I say it that even a typically ‘non-nature-doco-loving-person’ would appreciate this film.