As the house lights dim, silenced chairlifts and turning leaves draw us into a story that doesn’t start with a scripted skit. Eric Pollard checks the NOAA forecast for Government Camp, Oregon, Andy Mahre slides rockered twin tips into his Dodge Dakota, and Pep Fujas packs a roller bag. Interstate scenery soon ticks past in a geometric drone, hinting hard that the season is on and we are rolling with Idea. We follow this crew as they exit the Meadows lot and queue the lift line. After an unload, Pollard drops a misty local’s line, Fujas stalls a handplant and skis a tight glade backward. Action leaves the area in favor of the Mack Dawg step-down as Mahre lands a huge zero spin and Pep sticks a switch underflip tail grab. We transition in time to sculpted features during spring conditions and, still, the vibe sustains at an octave more real.
As this scene resonates in Montreal’s Cinema Imperial, a flat-brim crowd is engaged with awe, but uncertain of the right reaction. We are one continental flight distant from Hood at the International Freeski Film Festival for the world premiere of Idea in September, an event founded not to spotlight athletes, but to judge filmmakers. Sixteen entries will show, but Idea is one title expected to break the mold.
The jury is still out on the switch ups and spin tricks, but the cinematic perspective of Idea transports us to a different time and place. At the present moment, newschool reaction is trending whisper over shout, underscoring the point that this film is not simply one degree different from the stock format of the last decade. And that distinction was exactly the goal.
It’s not just chairlift theory that suggests the ski movie is stale. Each season, we gather in bars, condos and rec rooms to watch new titles that play the same. The cinematography is impressive and the riding otherworldly, but three initials—TGR, MSP or PBP—tell us what to expect.
Longevity, success and the ability to put out a quality product that people will wait in line to see and put money down to buy is at least partly to blame for the formulaic state of ski movies. But after over a decade of hardcore action set to commercial music, we are left wanting more from our sport.
Autograph heroes, inaccessible locations and bottomless budgets have removed the personal connection we once had to ski films. Framing the sport as endless heli lines and professionally sculpted features set against an eternally bluebird backdrop removes any pretense of reality. Real ski culture rarely gets even an onscreen cameo, and we are now given porn stars to idolize instead of a story to follow.
Yet skiing is rich with narrative and dripping with characters, scenes and subplots resonating from within. Capturing elements of style, subtlety of place and nuances of character is what enables us to connect with the experience. And that feeling of dropping in on what is familiar but exceptional transports our soul to that mystical place.
This unconventional faction found a hub in a nondescript rental under the Brightwood, Oregon canopy. In this temporary location the tight crew—Andy, Pep and Pollard, as well as Justin Wiegand, Matt Schwagler and Iberg—transformed a season of footage into a finished film between frozen pizzas and MacBook diversions.
Visionaries should be celebrated, yet it is easier to criticize than create. Rather than generating constructive solutions, posted rants about what is whack, stale or wrong have become a common thread in ski culture. Yet the creative process is not an armchair task. In a sport still undercut by resisters, those who seek a new line show us skiing in a new light. Their influence is our evolution, and without their risk the future would take longer to reach.
There have been other worthy attempts at an unpredictable result, like Bill Heath’s Sinners, Gaffney’s Immersion, Tanner’s Believe, and a collection of smaller, independent crews who lack the budget and/or talent to get noticed. Yet Idea stands alone since an evocative focus tells a season’s story without a single scripted line. And unlike these single shots, Idea is simply a first stanza since the film will sequel into a more ambitious format, taking advantage of new media such as streaming web video and podcasts, next season. The product is not perfect—the story line is told subtly without key elements like narration, natural conversation or interviews, and the film contains a few shots that probably would have been cut out by a more established editor—but predictability was never the point, and raw edges easily trump met expectations. Validated or vilified, Idea is our time stamp and is one that will endure.
Amidst this mixed reaction Idea proved only that this film will take time to sink in. Early response is not muted, with simultaneous ire and praise proving the state of the format is a heated topic. IF3 brewed with ideas at 1 a.m. but Red Bull attitude is only one ingredient in an equation of change. Making a 42-minute stand, however, illustrates the difference between inspiration and execution. The definitive ski movie of the next generation has yet to be made, but regardless, one assertion is irrefutable. No matter ski shape or brim shape, this crew deserves respect for one reason: style is moving unstoppably on and changing our medium is the message skiing needs to hear.
