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The Epic of Everest – London film festival review The Epic of Everest – London film festival review
(2 months later)
In June 1924 George Mallory and Andrew Irvine walked to their deaths, disappearing from the view of their fellow explorers on the north-east ridge of Mount Everest. That there was a film-maker, with a customised camera and a telephoto lens, on hand to record any of their final steps is impressive, even when viewed from the age of citizen photojournalism. The documentary that Captain John Noel crafted from his hard-won footage is an astonishing movie, one that pays equal tribute to the ambition of Mallory's team and the inhospitality of the mountain.In June 1924 George Mallory and Andrew Irvine walked to their deaths, disappearing from the view of their fellow explorers on the north-east ridge of Mount Everest. That there was a film-maker, with a customised camera and a telephoto lens, on hand to record any of their final steps is impressive, even when viewed from the age of citizen photojournalism. The documentary that Captain John Noel crafted from his hard-won footage is an astonishing movie, one that pays equal tribute to the ambition of Mallory's team and the inhospitality of the mountain.
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For all its historical significance, The Epic of Everest feels more like an art film than a documentary, thanks to the restoration of the original tinted sequences and a new and richly textured, often sinister score by Simon Fisher Turner. Modern viewers may squirm at the contrast between Noel's reverent approach to the mountain and his condescension toward the Tibetan locals. But it's the chill grandeur of his images, and the mystical note in his rueful conclusion, that will linger in your mind.For all its historical significance, The Epic of Everest feels more like an art film than a documentary, thanks to the restoration of the original tinted sequences and a new and richly textured, often sinister score by Simon Fisher Turner. Modern viewers may squirm at the contrast between Noel's reverent approach to the mountain and his condescension toward the Tibetan locals. But it's the chill grandeur of his images, and the mystical note in his rueful conclusion, that will linger in your mind.
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