Exploring the Mother of Waters

Steps to Revelation.

Exploring the Mother of Waters is Australian documentary filmmaker/extreme kayaker Mick O’Shea’s entry in this year’s Banff Film Festival, which plays a selection of short films exploring outdoor sports and mountaineering (sponsored by National Geographic). Chatting with fellow attendees after the festival, the unanimous consensus was that O’Shea’s work was by far the most important of all the films—indeed, one of the most important films to come out in years, if its documentation is correct. Filmed throughout 2004, it begins as a compelling travelogue of O’Shea’s own life-affirming trek along the Mekong River and ends, quite unintentionally, with a terrifying revelation that genocide of Rwandian proportions is looming in an area of the world that you’ve probably never heard of. It is a discovery of colossal importance, and O’Shea rightfully transforms his documentary from a celebration of extreme sports into an investigation of pending mass-murder.

The documentary follows O’Shea, an instantly likable, freshly-scrubbed young man, as he kayaks along the Mekong River from its initial source in Tibet to the South China Sea—a trek many hundred miles long. O’Shea’s opening narration informs us that this is first time anyone had ever attempted to kayak this journey, which was a good enough reason for him to attempt it; the dogged determination perpetually set in his eyes as he narrates along the way is certainly an indication that he is the man for the job. Only later, as he keenly observes his surroundings, does the film turn from an account of his adventure into something of far greater measure.

Waters starts as any such typical film playing at Banff would (and did), by introducing O’Shea, explaining his credentials, and setting him off in his kayak along the river (set to a slightly generic, Asian soundtrack). The 44-minute documentary is primarily O’Shea’s video diary, but a several shots of him kayaking taken on river banks betrays his assumed isolation on this journey. The first half or so details his often dangerous voyage: He crosses wild rapids, survives freezing weather, and stops along the way in tiny fishing villages, the citizens of which welcome his presence but seem a little mystified that any person would attempt to do what he’s doing unless they were subsistence fishing.

Because O’Shea is such a congenial fellow, and because he periodically takes the time to place his own perils aside to explore the fascinating people and cultures within these villages, the film’s set-up works to create a compelling documentation of this land and its inhabitants. But it is clear from the first scene that O’Shea is embarking on this trip primarily for his own curiosity and fierce defiance of Mother Nature; he wants to explore a region in a way that it has never been explored before. Thus, the film focuses chiefly on the perils of his method of travel, making it clear that anyone but the most expert of kayakers couldn’t survive this trip. These scenes are clearly trying to convince us that he’s “got what it takes,” and they make a case that we should be impressed by O’Shea’s courage.

If this was a film by any other such adventurer, I would speculate that ego was the chief motivation for its creation, as it reveals O’Shea’s brilliantly maneuvering through dangerous waters and expects us to be in awe of his skill. I find such awe a little problematic myself: I enjoy a good outdoors adventure as much as anyone else who lives in a landscape as beautiful as Juneau, Alaska (as I write these words, I’m fresh from crawling around in glacier caves and am feeling a little sore), but I’ve always wondered why anyone would want to place themselves in a scenario so dangerous for no other reason except that they can. Such folks, I speculate, are simply waiting for a great adventure that will finally conquer them. My mountain climbing friends, God save ‘em, usually agree with my assessment, right before they explain in detail their next grueling expedition.

But O’Shea wisely makes directorial choices that reveal a deep compassion for the people and the land that he explores, clearly beyond his own urge to showcase himself. Midway through the documentary, O’Shea is nearly killed by a particularly nasty spot in the river. He washes up to shore, literally freezing to death, and is saved by an elderly woman who immediately takes him in. A friendship develops between them as she nurses him back to health, and after a few days, O’Shea successfully tries this spot in the river again. But instead of focusing on his skills as a kayaker, the camera rests on this dear old woman, who fearfully watches him succeed and mumbles prayers for him along the way. “Seven days ago, this woman didn’t know I existed,” O’Shea narrates. “Now she’s sobbing and praying for my safety.” It is a loving portrait, completely devoid of ego.

Exploring the Mother of Waters continues in this pattern—combining O’Shea’s stunts with his exploration—until the midway mark, when O’Shea stumbles upon a discovery that dramatically and instantly shifts the film’s course into a human rights effort so chilling in its implications that it absolutely cannot be ignored. The Chinese government’s damming of key locations along the river means that literally hundreds of thousands of subsistence farmers and fishermen who depend on the water to survive will eventually die of starvation and hunger, as the river continues to disappear around them. These villages, so disconnected from civilization, are largely unaware of their impending doom, even though it is inevitable and inescapable. Suddenly, an area virtually ignored by the rest of the world has become the sight for the next major holocaust. What started as an escapade for O’Shea has literally become a nightmare.

O’Shea instinctually understands that the depth of his discovery—practically unknown to the Western world, as he is the first person to ever embark on this journey—merits a focus away from his own adventure. His film therefore becomes a plea to his viewers to be aware of this unforgivable outrage, and to take action against it. Suddenly, he has found a cause greater than his own curiosity, and he rises to the occasion, spending the remainder of the film detailing exactly what is happening here. We can only hope and pray that the right people get the message before it is too late.

It’s appropriate that the film begins with O’Shea’s feats and ends with this disheartening development. This narrative structure allows his breakthrough to startle us as it startled him—to force us out of the film’s original context and see O’Shea’s new crusade, which exists beyond what could initially have been perceived as ego. It also, I suspect, opens up a venue to get this message out to an audience as quickly as possible. The Banff Film Festival makes an annual North American tour that attracts thousands and thousands of sports enthusiasts; a film that otherwise simply focused on this pending holocaust instead of allowing the filmmaker to discover it along his way would probably be doomed to the late-night PBS. And if we are to follow the precedence of such events, such a topic probably wouldn’t surface on networks until it was too late to anything at all, in which case pundits would argue endlessly over whether or not it was an actual genocide. By placing the discovery in the context of an extreme sports adventure, O’Shea brings the masses to his appeal, instead of having to take it to them.

I’m awarding O’Shea’s film three stars for its technical achievement—it is a competently made account of his journey that allows his discoveries, both small and monumental, to speak for themselves. But the purpose of this write-up is larger than the grading system under which Film as Art is limited: People must be informed of what is happening right now on the Mekong River, and we must do something to stop the senseless deaths of thousands of innocent people before it is too late. O’Shea has taken responsibility by turning his would-be adventure into a powerful appeal against injustice. Banff and National Geographic wisely agreed to promote and show the film, even though its theme eventually strayed from its general design. Now, this viewer is utilizing his resources to make my readers aware.

Even if you are powerless to do anything but read these words, the awareness of this situation will suffice: It is more than most people in the Western world have. Now, take what you have read here and spread it to others. Here is the image of that helpless elderly woman, after all, standing by and offering prayers for O’Shea as he plunges into the abyss. Is it too much to ask that we do the same for her?

A film by Exploremore Productions. Directed and produced by Mick O’Shea. No M.P.A.A. rating (no objectionable material). Running time: 44 minutes. Year of release: 2006 (featured selection of the 2006 Banff Film Festival).

Visit Mick O'Shea's Metkong Descent Foundation website here.