Joshua Zeman

Digital download from 4 April

IN 1989, the Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution in Massachusetts detected an unknown sonic presence at 52 hertz. It was initially thought to be from a submarine, but marine biologist William Watkins later determined that it was the sonar signature of a whale, which he gave the nickname 鈥�52鈥�.

It is an unusually high frequency for whale vocalisations, and Watkins was intrigued enough to search for 52 until his death in 2004. But despite picking up 52鈥檚 call every year, Watkins never found the mysterious whale.

In The Loneliest Whale: The Search for 52, US film-maker Joshua Zeman picks up the search where Watkins left off, and sets out to find a whale that has since taken on almost mythical proportions.

Why 52 calls at this frequency is also a mystery 鈥� the whale鈥檚 species hasn鈥檛 been confirmed, and it is possible that it is the only one of its kind in the ocean. The one thing we do know is that 52 is almost certainly a he: male whales do the singing.

The reason for 52鈥檚 presumed loneliness has nothing to do with the fact that he has always been detected swimming alone. Instead, it is because the unique frequency of his call means that other whales can鈥檛 understand to respond. With 52鈥檚 unique call as the only lead, Zeman launches a seven-day search mission with bioacoustics specialist John Hildebrand and research biologist John Calambokidis.

They begin in the waters off California, at the Port of Los Angeles 鈥� the busiest container port in the western hemisphere. Their initial hopes aren鈥檛 high: the Pacific Ocean is deep and wide and the chances of finding 52 seem roughly the same as those of 52 finding a mate.

Zeman鈥檚 documentary has a strong sense of exploration and ambition: he believes he can locate 52, who has become the Moby Dick to Zeman鈥檚 Ahab. Although there is an underlying sense of excitement as to whether 52 can finally be found, there is a human aspect to the search and a personal story behind Zeman鈥檚 fascination.

In our increasingly connected world where contact and interaction is only the click of a button away, the fact that so many people still report feeling lonely makes it easy to identify with 52鈥檚 situation. There is something deeply affecting about a creature as intelligent and social as we know whales to be, swimming the vast ocean, year after year, never having any proper contact with another of its kind.

This, combined with a growing awareness of the harm that human activity has caused whales, has made 52 something of a focal point for whale conservation, with articles, poems and even a song by the K-pop band BTS about his plight.

Yet this is a story that goes deeper than just one whale. Whale populations are still under threat from hunting, pollution, climate change and collisions with ships. Even if they avoid these perils, the noise of shipping can drown out a whale鈥檚 calls, regardless of the frequency it may use. Arguably, Zeman鈥檚 quest says more about our collective guilt about this state of affairs than it does about our desire to solve the scientific mysteries surrounding 52.

Finding him is never a foregone conclusion. In fact, as 52 has never been seen or even definitively proven to exist, some within the scientific community are sceptical there is even a 52 to find.

Zeman鈥檚 attempt to create a sense of thrill and adventure as he embarks on his quest is hit-and-miss. Exciting footage of the search is punctuated with evocative images of the oceans, which makes the documentary鈥檚 tone feel inconsistent. At times, there isn鈥檛 enough to elevate the film above being a group of people spending time in a boat. At least not until the closing moments, when it appears that the team鈥檚 efforts may not have been in vain.

Overall, The Loneliest Whale: The Search for 52 offers a moving insight into a legendary whale and Zeman鈥檚 curiosity is infectious. Frustratingly, though, there isn鈥檛 enough discussion and explanation of the science behind whale communication, which leaves viewers, much like Zeman, wondering if they might have missed something important along the way.

Fire of Love

Sara Dosa

CPH:DOX film festival

ON 3 June 1991, Mount Unzen, an active volcano near Nagasaki in Japan, erupted and sent a deadly pyroclastic surge of hot gas and ash down the mountain. In its path with their cameras rolling were Katia and Maurice Krafft, a married team of French volcanologists and film-makers, renowned for their incredible close-up footage of eruptions. They were killed, along with 41 others.

The Kraffts鈥� careers and relationship, both personal and professional, are the focus of Fire of Love, a documentary that premiered at this year鈥檚 Sundance Film Festival in Utah and will be shown this month at the , Denmark.

Directed by Sara Dosa and narrated by the actor and director Miranda July, the film explores the parallels between the love the Kraffts had for each other and their joint passion for capturing Earth鈥檚 fury on film.

Dosa delivers a romanticised vision of the Kraffts鈥� work as they capture stunning images of eruptions and collect data from the edge of volcanoes, while seemingly embracing the dangers of being so close to the action.

For Dosa, their personal relationship is key to making the whole enterprise work. In archive footage, each openly admits that they can鈥檛 function without the other. Katia meticulously examines rocks and takes samples with a careful eye, while Maurice鈥檚 bold nature pushes them to seek out bigger and better pictures and to get closer to the action.

The ever-present threat of molten lava seemingly did nothing to dampen their enthusiasm. Throughout the documentary, the footage reveals the pair鈥檚 charmingly innocent wonder and fascination with their subject. In one scene, we see Katia at the edge of a volcano with no protective gear as lava spurts out. She stands, looking up in awe, seemingly unconcerned by the molten rock raining down around her.

Yet while this sounds like the work of thrill-seeking adrenaline junkies, the film depicts the Kraffts not as reckless or foolhardy, but as a loving couple consumed by a mutual curiosity and passion for adventure.

But the documentary isn鈥檛 all about romance and excitement. Brief animated segments about the history of volcanoes give Fire of Love a more educational tone, in which we learn about volcanoes and the devastating fallout of their eruptions. Two notable examples are the 1980 eruption of Mount St Helens 鈥� which killed 57 people, including a close friend of the Kraffts鈥�, the volcanologist David Johnston 鈥� and the 1985 eruption of Nevado del Ruiz near Armero, Colombia, which killed at least 23,000 people.

Through these examples, we see that the legacy of the Kraffts鈥� work extends beyond exciting images. Their footage has been instrumental in illustrating the dangers that eruptions pose to those living in the shadows of volcanoes and persuading authorities to put evacuation plans into place to protect them. The heartbreaking shots of the destruction around Armero in particular show what can happen when volcanologists鈥� warnings aren鈥檛 taken seriously and swiftly acted on.

Above all, though, this is a film that celebrates the love story of a brave couple whose dedication changed our understanding of volcanoes, but ultimately cost them their lives.

鈥淭he footage reveals the pair鈥檚 charmingly innocent wonder and fascination for their subject鈥�

Through stills and video beautifully edited by Erin Casper and Jocelyn Chaput, we get to share the Kraffts鈥� experience of eruptions, seeing Earth鈥檚 power with an intimacy that is only possible by standing at the edge of volcanic craters.

A nostalgic score brings a whimsical tone to the footage, and presents their lives as a unique moment in time 鈥� a captivating and endearing tale of two kindred spirits who wanted to understand the world and to share their passion with others.

Film

Jacob Morrison

HOME to more than 39 million people, California is the most populous US state. It is also among the driest. Together, these factors make demand for water a long-standing challenge. River鈥檚 End, a new documentary by Jacob Morrison, dives deep into the water crisis and asks difficult questions about who gets the water and why.

At the centre of the film is the Sacramento-San Joaquin river delta, an estuary in the north of the state. Connecting the Sacramento and San Joaquin rivers, the delta is a key source of fresh water and the battleground for the latest California water war.

In 2015, then-governor Jerry Brown and the California Department of Water Resources proposed a $15 billion plan now known as California WaterFix & EcoRestore that would see two large tunnels built from the Sacramento river under the delta to provide water for California. Inevitably, not everyone agrees with the plan: the tunnels would redirect water towards southern California, reducing freshwater supplies to farmers around the delta.

Narrated by DeLanna Studi, River鈥檚 End combines stock footage of landscapes around the delta and other parts of California, which highlights the fluctuating water supply levels, with simple animation to bring an educational slant and explain the extent and significance of the issue. With interviewees including politicians, corporate officials and local farmers, Morrison delivers a bleak yet brutally honest insight into the battle for water.

The documentary touches briefly on supply disputes in the early 20th century in the Owens valley and its role in the California water wars, which comprised a number of political conflicts between local farmers and the City of Los Angeles over water rights. But its main thrust examines how current supply issues are causing conflict between regional corporations and local farmers.

Both sides say they need water to run their businesses, but it soon becomes clear that the local communities don鈥檛 have nearly as much government support as the corporations. There is testimony from frustrated local farmers who rely on water from the delta to grow their produce and say their livelihoods have been affected, not only by a lack of supply, but also by pumping facilities, which take water away from the area.

The situation in the Westlands Water District in central California proves particularly enlightening. Its connections with ex-President Donald Trump (via former Westlands lobbyist David Bernhardt), a focus on lucrative yet thirsty almond farming and the substantial difference in living conditions between farm owners and workers in the field paint a stark picture of the power and influence of large corporations.

Although the corporation-versus-the-little-person narrative is all too recognisable, the documentary also zooms out further to highlight the consequences on the wider environment and the wildlife that also relies on it for survival. Among the locally endangered species mentioned is the delta smelt, a fish species that is close to extinction due to the ongoing damage to the delta鈥檚 ecosystem.

River鈥檚 End provides a thorough overview of California鈥檚 water issues and the need to achieve a sustainable water supply. It ends with a solemn message. As the state鈥檚 population continues to grow, it remains unclear whether there will be enough water to meet the requirements of all those who need it. In the end, it may come down to who needs, or perhaps who wants, it more.