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THE LAST DOGS OF WINTER

‘Making a movie is a bit like climbing a mountain. The view from the bottom can be terribly daunting. It’s not until you get a bit of elevation that the activity becomes more exciting. The higher you go, the more
euphoric the view.’
- Costa Botes (Post Production Blog)

Costa Botes shares his unique arctic experience on the acclaimed documentary The Last Dogs of Winter, which recently screened to a standing ovation at the Toronto Film Festival.

From the Filmmaker:
In October/November last year I went to the tiny town of Churchill, in Manitoba, Canada, to shoot a new documentary called The Last Dogs of Winter. I knew I’d be well outside my comfort zone, but I could not resist such a compelling story.
For almost 40 years, Brian Ladoon has struggled to breed and maintain a colony of Canadian Eskimo dogs in an environment suited to the dogs’ unique evolution. Once, these extraordinary animals were the packhorses or tractors of the arctic. Now, they apparently serve no useful function.

Technology and cultural shifts made them redundant. They almost died out following the introduction of petrol-powered skidoos. Disease, neglect, and organised culling saw numbers reduced from tens of thousands to just a few hundred by the 1970s. Brian Ladoon was one of only a handful of people whose sentimental attachment to the dogs was such that he took on the responsibility of trying to keep the breed going, at great personal sacrifice.

At this point I want to make it clear, I absolutely acknowledge Brian Ladoon is not some kind of sole savior of these endangered animals. There are now, and have been many other passionate people committed to the cause of preserving Canadian Eskimo/Inuit Dogs. People like Bill Carpenter were critical to their survival from the early 1970s. He bred and supplied dogs to Inuit in the North, reseeding small populations, and enabling today the small-scale continuation of traditional practices, and sustainable adventure tourism ventures. That is an interesting topic for a well-resourced TV documentary, or perhaps for Inuit themselves to make. It’s not the film I have made. I am attracted to charismatic, passionate protagonists who are facing high levels of conflict in their lives, and who have battled for a long time to maintain commitment to their goals. I don’t have to agree with them to admire such characters. Ladoon is such a character. He’s a fascinating and complex man, with great strengths, and certainly flaws as well.

} There is little support for making documentaries that aren’t home grown... and even then it is a struggle. What made you feel this was a story you needed to tell?

I’d like to see more support given to filmmakers who have something to say, regardless of parochial concerns or the commercial needs of broadcasters. All these interests can coincide happily if everyone puts the needs of an audience first. Audiences crave diversion, or amusement, but deeper down they crave meaning, validation, and a sense that life really does add up to something. Those are the things that I want too. Many years ago when I was a little kid, I was very impressed by a Howard Hawks picture set in Africa called Hatari, where John Wayne charges round in a jeep capturing wild rhinos. Terribly politically incorrect by today’s
standards, but very exciting in the way it depicted the collision of man and nature. Years later, I was enchanted by Carroll Ballard’s poetic rendering of Farley Mowatt’s memoir of life amongst wolves, Never Cry Wolf. That film had a haunting, elegiac quality. It really made me think and ‘feel’ about the issues of man’s impact on the natural order, of the heart-rending loss of our wild places and the animals who never asked to be part of our plans. So here I was, years later, given a chance to make a movie that combined all the things I felt and remembered about those two films. You can bet I took the opportunity with both hands.

} What were the logistics of the shoot?
Everything had to be ‘contained’. The total crew was me – doing pretty much everything, and my wife, who acted as driver and bodyguard (she’s better with guns than me). All the gear – camera, mics, hard drives, and lap top computer had to fit inside an airline-cabin-sized bag.

} Describe a challenging day... you mention ‘cold toes’?
The cold was not a major problem. Though it made operating camera gear much more difficult. It’s hard to push little buttons or fiddle with focusing rings while wearing mittens. So cold fingers were a given. Fogged viewfinders and weeping eyes made focusing tricky too. Being trapped inside a truck a lot made shooting frustrating at times. The more we observed the animals, the better I got at anticipating what they’d do. I worried most about slippery icy roads. We almost came to grief one day. There was a terrifying endless skid on a corner with iced up ponds either side. But you know, frankly, the toughest thing of all was getting people to commit to appointments for interviews. This is a town full of non-conformists. Their daily lives are adventures in ad hoc improvisation. The concept of someone shooting a film with a fixed production time frame didn’t seem to penetrate some skulls!

} As a character, did Ladoon deliver on film what you had envisaged? What
were the challenges?
Ladoon is a taciturn bloke, more into action than words. And he likes being alone. Not the easiest subject for a tag along ‘fly on the wall’ filmmaker. The challenge was always to pin him down, or wing it and get good stuff on the fly. I’m comfortable doing that, but I had to be quite pushy with Brian in order to get into his world. I think he comes across as both engaging and complex.

} In some ways it sounds like a Werner Herzog project – a person on the outside in an even bleaker terrain... is this a style you are drawn to you and why?
We should not pigeonhole Herzog like that. He’s a versatile artist, and so am I; but yes, of course I am drawn to charismatic characters in conflict on multiple levels – personal, social, and environmental. A bleak terrain makes for a stark and compelling canvas. Film is a visual medium, so the attraction is obvious.

} How did you use this backdrop in telling the story? I wasn’t consciously concerned about the backdrop. Nothing much I could do about that. Except pray for snow, and then when it came, pray that it stopped! I concentrated on getting as much out of the people as I could, wherever they were, and tried to make sure everything I shot was technically usable. Every day the conditions changed. One thing I tried hard to do was get a lot of wide shots, to show the widescreen bleakness of the North, and put the daily lives of the characters into a physical context.

} Documentary often involves different types of footage – what were some of your postproduction challenges?
The usual problem when faced with many hours of material. Drawing a mess into a coherent narrative with some kind of compelling metaphor delivered.

‘I have now nutted out what the start and end of the movie are likely going to be. This is essential to the whole enterprise. All the stuff in the middle can go every which way, but a film has to start somewhere, and eventually it has to go somewhere. Without those points to steer by, the journey is certain to be circular, like tracks in a desert. Or snowstorm. Except in a snowstorm, there would not be any tracks for long.’
(Costa Botes’ Post Production Blog)

Technically, I had some problems. I was plagued with crashes and many minor headaches But I figured most things out with help from some kind and clever people.

} Do you go into a shoot knowing what the start and finish will be, or does it emerge from the edit?
I always know a few vital things – Like ‘who is the story about?’ And ‘what is their problem?’ You have to know that, otherwise there’s no movie. Just an experience that might translate into a movie. I don’t need to know while shooting what the start and finish of the movie are going to be. It’s a documentary, after all. But I often know – as I’m shooting – that certain scenes will be ‘keepers’, and they will go on a mental short list. I’m a big believer in conventional three-act structure. It’s something to hang onto when you’re out there working ad hoc. Moments come up in front of the lens, and I usually know where they’re going to fit. It’s more an intuitive process than not.

‘Dunno about other filmmakers, but I always tend to feel a bit low immediately after shooting. Nothing ever works out quite how I imagined or wanted it to go. So it can be a good idea to let footage sit for a while. Just to let some objectivity creep back in.’ (Costa Botes’ Post Production Blog)

Shooting and editing my own work, it’s obviously a good idea to seek external judgments. I usually have two or three preview screenings, and solicit as much feedback as I can get. I personally find this helps me enormously to get a fresh perspective and revise edits with confidence.

} What was a key moment for you in the edit?
Finding the end. I had it relatively early, actually. Some wise guy once said that ‘movies are their endings’. Very true. I never relax until I’ve got an ending that makes me happy. It’s much easier to focus a movie when you know where it’s headed. Another key moment – very, very late – was hearing Tom McLeod’s soundtrack music all the way through. He totally captured the tone I wanted, and pulled the film into the same emotional space.

} Does it take the same kind of person as you have documented here to make documentary? What are your tips for survival?
I have always believed in a few core principles. Lots of things are interesting, not everything that is interesting is dramatic. I try to pick dramatic ideas. People are interested in people. I try to pick charismatic characters with the potential to drive a movie. A story has to be capable of generating an emotional response. A strong protagonist with goals the audience can empathise with is the best way to do that. It also has to be said that the Indy marketplace is saturated with films, and the market is both fragmented and diverse with highly specialised pigeonholes. There are fewer and fewer options left for filmmakers who want to make serious long form ‘authored’ work. International festivals are becoming lone beacons for this type of thing. They can function as pathways to wider distribution, but the rewards aren’t often obvious.