From their birth in mountain glaciers to their death at the mouth of the sea, River is in a way a biopic, just one about the life of bodies of water. Directed by Jennifer Peedom (and co-directed by Joseph Nizeti), whose previous film Mountain was a similarly striking expedition into global geography, River positions its subject as more than a setting — rather an inspiring, tragic lead character. Flowing with creativity and thematic depth, the film is guided by the poetic writing of nature author Robert Macfarlane, whose words are brought to life by a resonant (and self-described “juicy”) voice-over from Willem Dafoe. Those deep, unmistakable tones splash alongside a lush score from the Australian Chamber Orchestra, and combine with some astonishing cinematography, as the film winds between soothing meditative drift and crashing environmentalist wake-up call.
The rivers themselves appear as alien landscapes, liquid galaxies and dry, open wounds.
The film’s visuals are extraordinary, darting from ambient satellite views to microscopic close-ups to gripping drone footage that barrels around so much it should come with a height restriction and a seatbelt. The rivers themselves appear as alien landscapes, liquid galaxies and dry, open wounds, the voice-over guiding the water from its frozen origins to its potential demise. Peedom’s subject becomes a mercurial, beleaguered folk-tale hero, giving life, agriculture and transport to billions, only to be wickedly transformed from a living being into an exploited resource.
Unfortunately our hero’s plight does eventually start to plod, as repetitive editing, followed by crescendo-ing montages, become formulaic and result in some ebbs in engagement. However, a rousing finale slows any waves of boredom. A collage of magnificent imagery, fluidly match-cut together and complemented by a lush, anti-war lament from Radiohead, signals the brutal human damage to the environment, reminding viewers that for these rivers, plundered and exploited, there’s an apocalypse, now.