Most days are filled with research and preparation on the latest, but in many ways my oldest project, The Great Ape Diaries. One element of that project will be to work with award-winning documentary film-maker Skye Fitzgerald. In our last meeting Skye discussed a film technique he would like to use. One where you, the viewer, will share my perspective as I create images, in the digital diary posts we make. Skye suggested I watch War Photographer, a film by Swiss author, director and producer Christian Frei. 
Frei followed photographer James Nachtwey over the course of two years into the wars in Indonesia, Kosovo, Palestine, and Nachtwey's pursuit of poverty and famine, ostensively as a by-products of war. In addition to an exterior perspective on what Nachtwey was experiencing, Frei used special micro-cameras attached to James Nachtwey’s 35mm still cameras. The approach surrenders a feeling of not just being in his shoes, but in his 'other' eye. I shoot this way, with both eyes open, a technique a taught myself years ago--the better to see the world moving in and around the frame. The documentary is a decade old, but the personal "in-sight" point of view or POV remains fresh and refreshing, even in this iPhone Youtube consumed world.
That POV is what Skye is interested in working out with me as we create The Great Ape Diaries - we'll discuss that more over the coming months on this blog. Our advantage of course is a wealth of new small HD video cameras like the Hero Pro. Still the challenge remains creativity and simplicity of communication, and that was the reward in watching Frei's War Photographer.
After some thought about the Academy Awards nominated documentary, I don't think it can be discussed outside Frei's microcam technique, although most online reviews and discussions are determined. Most of the online debate after the film debuted in 2001 were focused there, negatively and positively, on the age old reportage argument regarding war/tragedy: Is the photographer/journalist a cold and cynical chronicler, or should their humanity step forward and intervene in what they are bearing witness to? Or at the least step away from feasting on the pain and suffering of others? Words like vampirism, vulture, scavenger and leech were peppering the comments. Nachtwey's apparent calm translates as callous, his thoughtfulness as heartlessness, these have always been the leading volleys of critics. Unfortunately, to bolster their objections, there is one elongated scene in the German offices of Stern magazine where editors discuss an upcoming layout of Nachtwey's images in terms that translate into the hands of cynics; describing Nachtwey's horrors of war black and whites with adjectives like, "Fantastic" and "Ya, this great, terrific."
The micr0-cam I think does yield more than just a POV on the images Nachtwey creates, but on Nachtwey himself. As Skye has said to me, "I want to get in your head as you're back creating these photos." And any careful observation of the War Photographer I think does that. We, the viewer, have 96 mins of self-determination about what a war-photographer-kind-of-human James Nachtwey is or isn't. That kind of exposure causes me pause going forward on The Great Ape Diaries. A bit of fear. There is a price for letting the world look through your eye.
One of the last comments Nachtwey gives into the camera, and there are remarkably few, is regarding his role as image-maker in such conditions, "It's something I have to reckon with every day because I know that if I ever allowed genuine compassion to be overtaken by personal ambition, I will have sold my soul."
Again, critics may attack in their belief that "genuine compassion" begets involvement beyond the images, and Nachtwey's words are little more than hollow excuses, his soul was sold. But having met the man in an unflattering state, he is paying a price, and the images are a price to know reality. Nachtwey says earlier in the documentary about the genocide in Rwanda, "It was like taking the express elevator to hell." Never be so naive as to think that ride has no price. Having visited the suburbs of hell myself on another scale - no one else can fully judge the price.
*****
Finally this note. The sound track is as subtle and wonderfully done as anything you may never notice, but should. As someone said, "One of the most profound aspect I found in this documentary, is the use of sound. I think it's one of the best, if not most calculated sound editing ever done, since the film [is] supposed to focus on images."
