“The way I approach multimedia is to think about each project as a storyteller and then to think about what tools I will need to best tell the story,” says Mary Lynn Price, who since retiring from practicing trial law in 2003 has dedicated herself to video journalism, with specific interest in natural history stories that support conservation efforts. Just as Ralph Clevenger told me, Price explained to me than nothing matters more than thinking about story when putting together “music videos” — her name for multimedia projects that tell stories without narration or even graphics, but just smart use of images and music.
Price proves her music-video storytelling prowess in “C-17 Flight to McMurdo Antarctica.” In less than two minutes, she takes us from baggage security scanning and flight boarding to landing on “The Ice,” having shown us tons of interesting close-ups during this famous, windowless flight.
“Famous” is, um, definitely too strong a word for this particular flight that takes scientists and support staff to the McMurdo Station. But I’m an Antarctic exploration junkie so I’ve sure heard about it plenty, although I could never really imagine what it would be like — until I got taken for a ride with Price’s great documentary vision.
What does it mean that I’m an Antarctic (and Arctic) exploration junkie? It means that I’ve read Alfred Lansing’s “Endurance” three times, twice read “Shackleton’s Forgotten Men” (by the brilliant Lennard Bickel) and at least once just about all of the other classic books about frostbite and suffering in pursuit of knowledge at the southernmost (and northernmost) tip of the world.
I’m kidding about the pursuit of knowledge. It seems that back during the Heroic Age of Antarctic Exploration, only Douglas Mawson was really interested in science. He sure got a bad case of frostbite anyway, which you can learn about in “Mawson’s Will,” a riveting tale of survival (also by the incredible Bickel), which is better than “Endurance,” if you can believe that.
The kick-ass, ugly-nosed Norwegian Roald Amundsen is my favorite cold-zone explorer, and not because he won the race to the South Pole (arriving on December 14, 1911), but rather because he was the only explorer who seemed to consistently avoid the heroics of misery by using his noodle. That’s right. Amundsen was no dummy. He didn’t bring useless Shetland ponies to the Antarctic, but rather powerful sled dogs, which as planned all along, he and his team ate as their loads got lighter on their return from the pole. (Talk about an all-purpose form of transportation.)
Eating dogs with premeditated intent is something that would have horrified the English sensibilities of Robert Falcon Scott, who was the one who brought the useless Shetland ponies south, and who secured for himself an exalted spot in the annals of heroic adventure by dying on his return from the South Pole, and (just as critical) making sure to record the details of his suffering in a stoic manner that proved that he had died with a stiff upper lip the Brits could be proud of, and which no doubt immediately froze in that position.
For the record, Scott’s last days, trapped in a tent battered by a horrific blizzard, not far from his supply depot, was really not that bad for the poor chap. By then he was numb from months of cold and near starvation. The worst day of his life was behind him, when he arrived at the Sough Pole a month after Amundsen had left. There Scott found the tent that Amundsen had left erected for him (further lightening his loud), in which Amundsen had left a polite note to his English rival — creating what surely must be one of history’s greatest Ha Ha moments.
Not only did Scott learn that he lost the race to Amundsen, but he was pretty well aware that he and his men were not going to make it back to their little comfy base hut, which, by the way, although far, far from them was not at all far away from where the C-17 landed that was carrying the video-camera-wielding Price.
For the record, Amundsen got so dang smart about arctic survival — and this is why I really love the guy — not by reading books or thinking that he knew better than others (that was Scott’s specialty), but simply by “going native” with the Inuit on one of his early expeditions in the Arctic. Not only did he learn how to stay toasty and not lose all his toes-ees but, presumably, he also avoided suffering a dreaded case of (non-cold-related) blue balls when he followed local customs and got inside those cozy, co-ed group sleeping bags.
It boggles the mind to consider how Scott and Amundsen would have reacted to how people, a hundred years down the line, are keeping warm in the Antarctica. To find out, they would only have to watch Price’s snappy, “Antarctica Extreme Cold Weather Clothing” video. Amundsen would certainly be fascinated but, I don’t think, not necessarily impressed with the clothes, although he might like the idea of staying warm in a sleeping bag with Price. Scott, the poor bastard, might be blushing too hard from seeing Price in her undies to learn anything useful.