An unsettling near-future exploration of the climate crisis and a clash of ambition and principle. The grief and guilt of unsympathetic, ice-cold characters is palpable and their choices stand as a harsh ecological and societal warning. This is a light-touch eco-tale written in beautifully descriptive prose, yet still unflinching and thought-provoking.
A wide expanse of sea ice stretches towards the distant peaks.
In the foreground, an icebreaker bears down on it, all bolted metal, smeared and ocean-stained. The line of the camera follows the colossal drill bit at its prow, and just beyond it, as though ready to be speared on its point, is the focus of the image, and the only colour in this monochrome world: a woman in a warning-red parka, kneeling on the ice. With her outstretched arms, she forms a sacrificial barrier between the drill ship and what lies behind her: two mottled grey Weddell seals, a mother and pup.
As the woman blinks the glare from her uncovered eyes, her face dips to her shoulder. The gesture makes her look Christlike: a stained-glass crucifixion against the white, her eyes lowered in grief for all creation. God, she seems to say, forgive them.
