THE STORY – Director Victor Kossakovsky and botanist Stefano Mancuso take us on a unprecedented journey into the life of trees. What happens to a stump the second after a tree is cut down? What does that tree think and feel at that very moment?
THE CAST – Stefano Mancusoa
THE TEAM – Victor Kossakovsky (Director/Writer) & Stefano Mancuso (Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 105 Minutes
In 2020, the New York Times published “The Social Life of Forests,” an in-depth article which looked at Suzanne Simard’s seminal study of forests and how trees communicate within them. Her groundbreaking research unearthed the remarkable discovery of a communication network created both above and below ground between neighboring trees. Filmmaker Viktor Kossakovsky is something of a communicator himself, via documentaries such as “Gunda” about a coterie of farmyard animals, the concrete-themed “Architecton” and now “Holy Wood Dust”, which takes a look at the forests of the Dolomites and the trials and tribulations of the trees therein. As Kermit once sang: “It’s not easy being green”. The first image is that of a huge red spruce being sawn and extracted from its habitat, the crane grappling the tree as if it were in a giant arcade claw machine. The tree dances in the sky above its erstwhile neighbors, which are also swaying on the ground. Considering trees are supposed to be static, they certainly move about a lot in this film.
The film moves onto one of the major themes: that of the 2019 Vaia storm that saw 200 kph winds cutting a devastating swathe in the Dolomites, eliminating more than eight million cubic meters of forest in one night. The news footage is some of the only dialogue to be heard for the first 20-odd minutes of the film. In fact, there is little narration here; no talking heads spewing facts and opinions, no earnest actor giving us an account of what is on the screen. Instead, the trees do most of the talking.
One human who is allowed some voice time is Italian botanist Stefano Mancuso (credited with co-writing the film with Kossakovsy). This charming man is seen taking a group of schoolchildren on a walk in the forest, showing them firsthand the wonders of the life around them. He informs them – and us – that trees have over 20 senses and that they are extremely clever. He talks about their problem- solving skills – a sure sign of high intelligence. He talks about the bark beetle, a creature that before Vaia was just part of the ecosystem, cleaning out the older trees and chomping away on their bark. Now those insects have become the bad guys: their more limited diet means that they are targeting the surviving trees, leaving beautiful, terrible arabesques etched into the bark, like murderous primeval artists. Mancuso explains all this to the kids but with a lightness of touch and a wonderful sense of humor. He makes poo jokes and even manages to fall over, much to the delight of his charges. Yet for all his joking around, this man is a serious and passionate defender of the trees, dedicating himself to their protection and regeneration.
One of the staggering things about this film is just how mechanized the industry of tree-planting, tree-felling, tree-mulching and tree-selling has become. As “Christmas” trees go on their journeys, they are tied, bagged and stripped. Yet they are also frequently manhandled (there aren’t many women in the forestry business in the Dolomites, apparently), the scenes often reminiscent of the way animals are treated in industrial farming. By the end of this film, you might be considering them in much the same way as those poor creatures on their way to the abattoir. Mancuso points out that wood is the rarest material in the universe, yet our consumption of it and disregard for it is limitless. Humans don’t come across all that well in this film. Not even the Vatican is spared: by the time the anointed tree has been sent to Rome, it is tarted up like a country girl who has to dance in a dodgy bar in Vegas to make ends meet. There are no limits to the humiliation wrought on trees. Yet, despite being toyed with by tigers (wait and see) and discarded by humans, these trees retain their majesty and beauty – even those little Christmas spruces. Suffice to say, if you are considering buying a real tree this Christmas, this film might make you change your mind.
The footage of the Vaia storm mentions that these Dolomite spruces are the trees that provide the wood for Stradivarius instruments. Kossakovsky has tasked Spanish composer and musician Adrian Berenguer with providing a suitable score, which he has done to great effect. For a film with so little dialogue, the music’s importance is significant. Berenguer never gets maudlin and instead provides music that is as soaring and beautiful as the film’s subjects. As with “Gunda”, sound is an essential component and Alexander Dudarev once again performs his magic.
Without subjecting his audience to a lecture, Kossakovsky has brilliantly and effectively communicated everything he wanted to say and he has done so through the silent eloquence of those trees. All we need to do is listen.
