Netflix, John River, and the Thames

I originally associated John River of the Netflix/UK series River with the Thames because it highlighted the only natural element in the show. But after watching the first season, I believe the evolution of John River parallels that of the River Thames, moving from polluted muddiness to the possibility of renewal.

We view the Thames for the first time at night from John River’s point of view, highlighting the source of its name. Derived from the Celtic name for the river, Tamesas (from *tamēssa) it probably originally meant "dark." Others suggest the root of the title Thames is Indo-European and pre-Celtic with a root indicating "muddiness," like the first sighting in the series. But this meaning also connects with John River’s search both for self and for his partner Stevie’s murderer—both of which are muddy in the first episode.  

The Thames was indeed “dark” and “muddy” from at least the middle ages forward, first from raw human and animal waste, and then from unregulated industry. In 1957, the pollution levels became so bad that the River Thames was declared biologically dead. The amount of oxygen in the water fell so low that no life could survive and the mud reeked of rotten eggs. 

Like the Thames, John River seems almost lifeless, perhaps more dead than Stevie, who appears to John periodically, singing pop songs and cracking jokes that sometimes offer clues to her killer. By episode two, though, John has adopted Stevie’s cat, bringing life into his sterile apartment. The episode includes several scenes highlighting the bond John forms with the cat. Because it belonged to Stevie, John’s connection with the cat certainly represents the close relationship he shared with Stevie. But it also demonstrates an evolution for John River. He cannot be “biologically dead” like the Thames because he can sustain another life, even if it is only a cat.

Although the cat does not serve as an integral part of the show after episode two, it serves as the foundation for more complex living relationships for John. By episode six, the final episode of season one, John has built friendships with several characters in the show: Rosa (Georgina Rich) the therapist who clears him for work, his boss Chrissie (Leslie Manville), and his new partner Ira (Adeel Akhtar) and wife Marianne (Lydia Leonard).

Like the Thames, John River “teems with life.” According to a 13 October 2010 Telegraph article, “125 species of fish swim beneath its surface while more than 400 species of invertebrates live in the mud, water and river banks. Waterfowl, waders and sea birds feed off the rich pickings in the water while seals, dolphins and even otters are regularly spotted between the riverbanks where it meanders through London.”

After his strategic wanderings through the city, John River and partner Ira solve Stevie’s murder. But they also form a bond that translates River’s isolated schizophrenic life into a loving family. In the season’s last episode, River, Ira, and Marianne share a picnic near their desk, but when River hugs Marianne’s child and says “hello” with a smile, he finds a home. In River, this family teaches John River to believe his alter ego Thomas Cream’s claim: “I have always thought a country should be judged on how it treats its insane, rather than its sane; the stranger on our shores rather than those already home.” John’s “country” earns an “A.”

iZombie and Going Viral

Most Sundays lately, I take lunch to a friend's house and relax while eating by watching an episode of  iZombie (2015-16). As another loosely adapted D.C. Comics series, iZombie ties together zombie horror with comedy and the police procedural to enliven the genre. Its sassy goth protagonist Liv (Rose McIver) and her two allies, police officer Clive (Malcolm Goodwin) and chief pathologist Ravi (Rahul Kohli) help maintain its high interest level. But the show also highlights at least a few environmental issues that move it beyond the obvious.

Sure the cause of the zombie virus is linked to energy drinks and the tainted drug Utopium and evolves into a virus contracted through the usual zombie bites. Sure the usual period of rigor mortis is shortened or eliminated altogether, so the undead can awaken in an ambulatory state.  But the connection between food and zombies our weekly lunch represents is translated in two interesting ways in the series that showcase the transformation of food into economic power.

 

As Michael Newbury’s “Fast Zombie, Slow Zombie: Food Writing, Horror Movies, and Agribusiness Apocalypse suggests,” in zombie films such as 28 Days Later the “yearning for the pastoral, for the local, for slow food tend[s] to be crushed” (91). Whereas contemporary critics of agribusiness “fashion to varying degrees an idealized return to the ‘natural’ as a solution to the corporate remaking of food, zombie films insist in their imagery of the apocalypse on the problematic provisionality of any such reference to the ‘natural,’ offering instead a world and food that are always and inescapably made by culture and economic power” (91). 

In iZombie too food moves beyond the natural and is instead constructed by culture and economic power, this time as brains acquired either legitimately or through the usual criminal violence. For once zombie and Meat Cute owner and now funeral director Blaine (David Anders), brains are a commodity, so to increase his market, more zombies must be created and forced into serving as paying customers. For pathologist and police consultant Liv, brains acquired from murder victims sustain her, but they also provide a way for her to give back, helping to solve these victims' murders. In both cases, though, brains become aestheticized, transformed into culinary delights either for sale or for Liv's criminal cases. 

The series takes the time to show Liv turning organ meat into a foodie's delight in overhead shots that emphasize the beauty of brain pastas, burritos, and even Sushi. This beautification of food is amplified in a recent episode in which Liv ingests the brains of a social media addict. In iZombie food is both commodity and cultural artifact--at least if human brains are food. 

Jiro Dreams of Sushi (2011): Preserving A Way of Life

Jiro Dreams of Sushi (2011) chronicles the day-to-day work life of 85-year-old Jiro Ono, a world-renowned sushi chef and owner of Sukiyabashi Jiro, a prestigious ten-seat sushi restaurant in Tokyo, the only restaurant of its kind with a three star Michelin rating. Although this prestige attracts sushi lovers from around the world to make reservations months in advance for one of the few seats at Jiro’s sushi bar, it is Jiro and his sons, rather than the restaurant, that provide focus for this revealing documentary.

Although the film’s production notes suggest the film “is a thoughtful and elegant meditation on work, family, and the art of perfection,” however, the relationship between Jiro and his eldest son moves beyond revealing the complexity of Jiro’s multiple roles as culinary success and loving but demanding father. The relationship also reveals the changing attitudes toward the environment that must be embraced for the dream of sushi to continue. In order to continue the traditions Jiro establishes as a sushi master, his eldest son Yoshikazu must encourage an aquatic conservation missing from Jiro’s experience. The drive to maintain his father’s reputation as a sushi master, then, parallels the desire to preserve the sea life that sustains it.

Despite any weaknesses they note, reviewers laud the film’s presentation of Jiro and his goals to create the perfect sushi. Noel Murray of the A.V. Club notes that the film “argues persuasively that it’s that constant pursuit of improvement—even to the best sushi in the world—that gives us all a reason to wake up and punch in.” Nicolas Rapold of The New York Times declares Jiro is “a god among men.” Roger Ebert calls the film “a documentary about a man whose relationship with sushi wavers between love and madness. He is a perfectionist, never satisfied, and if you go to work for him as an apprentice, you will have to spend weeks learning how to squeeze out a towel properly before moving on to learn how to slice a hard-boiled eggs.”

What they don’t note is the different focus Jiro’s son Yoshikazu brings to the film during his trip to the fish market. The scene is the market is reminiscent of segments in anti-fishing documentaries such as The End of the Line (2009) and We Feed the World (2005). Huge tuna and other ocean fish lie in rows on a massive concrete floor ready for bidding. After Yoshikazu purchases tuna, shrimp, and other seafood for the day at the restaurant, he speaks reflectively into the camera, mourning the loss of rare ocean life and promoting the need to conserve the fish that remain for future generations. The film shows us plates of sushi items no longer available because of the overfishing Yoshikazu laments. Although the film leaves this scene quickly to return to Jiro and his amazing restaurant, it portends a possible change when the now 85 year-old Jiro passes the restaurant onto his son. This brief scene offers hope that preserving the excellence of Jiro’s restaurant may also help save the sea.

UK and Netflix's *River* and the Urban Environments

In one of the early episodes of the UK series River (available on Netflix), the series' flawed protagonist John River (Stellan Skarsgård) exclaims, "There are no trees," as he walks out of his police precinct building into the lifeless city surrounding it.

As he and the new partner and watchdog assigned to him, Ira King (Adeel Akhtar) walk by a concrete wall, River declares, "There is no oxygen."

River's claims line up well with the way the series' setting is presented so far. The urban setting presented in River is violent and constructed. The city is a dangerous place here, and the only sign of nature seems to be the River Thames.

As the least controlled character in the series, John River may parallel the Thames in the series, connecting more closely with the natural world than the lifeless urban setting around him. As I watch further, I'll see how this parallel develops.

Dark Days (2000): A Narrative of Environmental Adaptation

Marc Singer’s documentary Dark Days (2000) reveals much about homeless living in Amtrak tunnels beneath New York City. To construct its narrative, Singer and his subjects create a world where the city is a dangerous place, a wilderness, and the homeless seek shelter where no one else will go. Singer and his subjects also work together to alter the underground landscape to accommodate filmmaking and follow a three act structure: 1. Going underground (with introductions to each character), 2. living like a family in the relative domestic bliss below, and, 3. after a forced removal by Amtrak officials overseeing the tunnels near Penn Station, climbing back up above ground to begin living isolated lives in single-person apartments.

Act one begins with a representative of the homeless, Greg, descending out of a dark urban landscape into the relative domestic comfort below. The normalcy of living in shanties built in subway tunnels is emphasized by portrayals of each of the “main characters” waking up in their shanties and getting ready to go to work, providing a glimpse of the ordinary lives Greg, Ralph and Tito lead. The focus of this first act seems to instead be on the individual tales the homeless tell that explain not only how they ended up homeless and why they moved under ground, but also on the hell above they escaped by entering this underground world. The introductions to the characters also highlight their immersion in the middle class values exemplified by focus on work and, especially, on workin’ on the house—civilizing the underground.

Singer shows us what these homeless do to survive in the second phase of his documentary, which climaxes with a view of how they cope with a transition from their underground community to a life above ground. Here we see each subject leaving home and reentering the city streets to earn a living. Tommy collects plastic, proud that he collects enough from selling bottles to take the weekend off. And Greg sells anything he doesn’t keep himself. But they all return to their self-built homes for comfort. The world these subjects have created has become so civilized that they can own and nurture others, including pets. Yet subjects must also contend with rats and must fight to maintain a civilized life in the underground where the city hides not only the source of its progress, but also the real consumer products—human and animal waste. Hygiene and waste center this final scene before the film’s climax.

The climax of this narrative occurs when an Amtrak order to leave within thirty days breaks up the family and domestic world subjects have built for themselves below ground. A homeless advocate, Mike Harris, however, provides the story’s resolution. He works with Amtrak officials and promises that no one will be left in the tunnel if all the homeless get housing above ground. Amtrak agrees, and the underground pioneers are elated. Dee, Tommy, Brian, Ralph and Greg all jubilantly destroy their underground homes. But Dark Days does not suggest that the only solutions to such urban problems are institutional—gained through public organizations’ interventions. Instead, the film (and Singer, its creator) foregrounds how well the homeless subjects adapt their environment and themselves to not only survive but prosper in their, perhaps, savage underground world. Individuated through their stories and their uniquely furnished homes, especially Ralph (with friends Tito and Dee) and Tommy (with friend Brian) prove the resilience of humankind and suggest that the best way to solve environmental problems, both rural and urban, is to construct narratives that intertwine humans with each other and with their environments. And the best ethnographic films seem to be those constructed by both the filmmakers and their subjects.      

More Green Planet Films: Solutions to Environmental Problems

Monde Films, Abundance on a Dry Land documents solutions to drought issues in California.  In California,  the agriculture industry is suffering from a lack of water, and farms are being abandoned at an alarming rate.  But some people seem to have found  a  solution.  In California and in many other dry regions around the world, land restoration is facilitating water infiltration to help increase the yields. In addition, even in dry  areas, a lot of water can be potentially harvested and stored in tanks, ponds and swales.  By using  swale systems, gabions, biodiversity, mulching, pioneer  trees, animals both wild and domestic, check dams, fruit forests, keyline plows, compost teas and many other methods, it is possible to turn the soil into a large sponge,  and design new productive landscapes. Abundance on a Dry Land showcases these solutions

The Greenhouse of the Future is an innovative and strategic design, built of recycled and natural materials, that interacts with the natural phenomena of the planet in order to create the ideal environment for growth and abundance.

The technologies and concepts that have inspired the design of this greenhouse have been proven by over 40 years of research and development by Michael Reynolds’ Earthship homes as well as the many studies on passive solar greenhouses.

The MOVIE

• A 70 minute, full resolution documentary that reveals and explains every step you’ll need to build your own greenhouse.
• 3D animations that will allow you to visualize and understand every single aspect of the structure.
• A window into a world of resilient, green, and sustainable technologies, and the community that’s growing with it.

Green Planet Films: Responses to Climate Change

Directed by Ruth Chao, Red Ice (2014) argues that the sudden melting of the Greenland ice sheet triggered "a red alert on the Poles" and provided evidence for the escalating threats of climate change.  And the repercussions for the rest of the world could be dire.

According to the film's description, the Polar regions are being affected by global warming much more intensely than any other part of the world. The global mean temperature has risen around 1.1 ºC since 1990; however, in the Arctic it has risen more than twice that amount. Global warming threatens to change that whole fragile ecosystem even faster than in the rest of the world. The situation is becoming more and more dramatic each year and we are approaching a point of no return, the film claims. Cities and even entire islands could end up under sea water. And Europe and the U.S. could suffer extreme weather outbreaks and colder weather more frequently.

Directed by Fran X. Rodriguez and Ruth Chao, The Climate Footprint (2014) explores the history of the COP climate change summit and the fight against our most challenging and powerful enemy. Under the framework of the United Nations, 194 countries meet once a year during two extremely hectic weeks at the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC).

According to Green Planet Films, Surviving Earth is an independent Australian documentary featuring Prof. Tim Flannery, Prof. Ian Lowe, Dr. Ian Dunlop, Prof. Paul Ehrlich,  Bindi Irwin, and Uncle Bob Randall among others on the topics of resource depletion, climate change adaptation / mitigation and over population. An epic, ominous and perhaps life saving radio interview occurs with director, Peter Charles Downey on a small-town country radio station about his new documentary movie, Surviving Earth.  The film questions “are we slowly committing mass ecocide by killing our host, Mother Earth?”

These documentaries begin to address the repercussions of Anthroprocentric climate change.