‘Space Explorers: Taking Flight’ and ‘Beethoven’s Fifth’ (VR Review)

The ups and downs of documentary virtual reality

A 50-second clip of a train arriving at La Ciotat Station was first shown by the Lumière brothers in 1896. For the generations to follow, this train signified the arrival of not only a  new medium, but also the field of cinematography and the genre of documentary film. Indigenous to modernity is the desire to document the highest achievement of technological progress with the state of the art equipment.

‘Space Explorers: Taking Flight’

So a I sink into a chair with a virtual reality headset on, I think of the audience of the first Lumière films. There is a persistent myth that people fled in fear from the train approaching onscreen. After some 123 years, I now am about to witness a space shuttle launch in VR, completely surrounded by the environment in my headset. But technological novelty aside, how efficient is VR when it comes to documentaries? This question is top of mind as I take in Space Explorers: Taking Flight and Beethoven’s Fifth, both of which use 360-degree documentary footage; the former to bring its audiences to places not usually available for the general public, the latter one to show a familiar situation in a new and exciting way.       

Space Explorers: Taking Flight is the second of two parts of Space Explorers, a documentary by Montreal-based Felix & Paul Studios. It is currently a part of the Phi Centre’s exhibition Echo: The Sound of Space. Space Explorers: Taking Flight invites the viewer to travel to the US and Russian astronauts’ training bases, launch pad, and to the International Space Station, all without leaving the comfort of one’s chair. This 20-minute film gives a glimpse into what it takes to be a space explorer, while conveying an important political message: when nations collaborate instead of competing and when the state works hand in hand with the private sector, humanity is able to accomplish so much more.

It feels grand to be confronted with the scale of the operations. As I watch a NASA rocket slowly rolled out on a track, my heart is filled with excitement. When the camera is placed inside Soyuz Spacecraft alongside two cosmonauts preparing for the launch, I can almost physically feel the tightness of the space. I am there! And like a schoolgirl on a class trip to a cool facility, I am only listening to the “tour guide” half-heartedly, devouring the surroundings with wide eyes.

With every VR piece, I ask myself, does this have to be a 360-degree experience? What would it lose if translated to a flat screen? And although the medium of VR doesn’t seem essential to Taking Flight on the first glance, I find myself enjoying the film more because it is in VR. Firstly, the specifics of this technology affect the way Taking Flight is shot and composed. Each scene is a long static shot fading to black in the beginning and end, which minimizes any distraction from the film’s editing.

Editing in live action VR doesn’t abide by the same rules as a two-dimensional film. Unfortunately,  Beethoven’s Fifth (directed by Jessica Brillhart) presented at the same program at Phi Centre, ignores this. This nine-minute “contemplative work” (as described by the exhibit curators) is a tribute to 1977 Voyager launches, twin spacecraft carrying records with music and imagery, intended to represent the pinnacle of human culture. The piece features the footage of London Philharmonia Orchestra playing First Movement of the Fifth Symphony. Shots of the orchestra are filmed from several angles of the rehearsal room and are intercut with signals received from Voyager, visualized as moving blue, plasma-like matter.

In Beethoven’s Fifth, the cuts are made in sync to music, presumably to create a plausible rhythm of documentary footage and video art, but, in actuality, the editing feels like a helpless attempt to make the experience more entertaining. The effect is sometimes annoying, when there is a jump cut from a wide shot to a medium shot through cross-dissolve. With the hands of the conductor and the musicians moving, this kind of transition looks messy and takes the viewer out of the immersed state. Sometime the transition even creates an unintended comical effect. One of the cuts came as I was looking towards the back of the orchestra while standing in the middle of it. One moment I was looking at the musicians, and the next, I was staring at a wall with some microphones stored in the corner—a less than flattering part of the rehearsal room. I was clearly meant to face the other direction, but viewer agency does not seem to have been taken into account.

Facing the “wrong” way is one of the biggest pleasures in Taking Flight. I feel like an explorer in environments and situations where I wouldn’t normally be present. The slow “reveal” of a scene as I look around can be satisfying and give you new visual information. For example, as a  cosmonaut, Alexander Misurkin, narrates about the importance of protecting the crewmembers from viruses before launching into space, I turn my head and notice that he is actually sitting behind glass. It is natural to look at a person during a sit-down interview but occasionally my gaze is prompted to “wander” during the experience, like during an “establishing shot” prior to the interview with cosmonaut Misurkin. All of a sudden I found myself amidst camels munching on a prairie and helplessly looking around for clues. Only the caption “Baikonur, Kazakhstan” appearing a few moments later, clarified the location.

Viewer curiosity is rewarded in Taking Flight. The events, faces, and interior details on the periphery of the main action contain layers of information. Theoretically, you are at risk to find yourself facing a blank wall when transitioning into the next shot, like in Beethoven’s Fifth. But since Taking Flight is narrated, you are unlikely to get lost. Your gaze can follow the voice, which is a less intrusive form of guidance than abrupt unmotivated cuts. I was even tempted to close my eyes during Beethoven’s Fifth and give in to the music, enhanced by a vibrating backpack.

As VR technology develops, it must devise its own language, utilizing advances in theatre, film, animation, and games. Will it become a new world in documentary storytelling? It’s hard to tell. The effect of the presence has leapt forward since the debut of The Arrival of a Train at La Ciotat Station. But funnily enough, the operational method of documentary VR seems

borrowed from Lumière brothers: simply place your 360-degree camera rig in the middle of the action and hit “record.” I am excited to see the visual language of live action VR evolve. Just as space exploration sparks the imagination, the development of this kind of emerging media promises  new modes of perception and interaction. VR has a unique capability of literally putting a viewer in the middle of the action. It would be great to see it used for putting her inside somebody else’s shoes by making her a character, actively interacting or even symply observing. The viewer already has some degree of agency through just being able to look in the direction that she wishes. It is up to the creators of these experiences to collaborate artfully and efficiently with a new creative force: the audience.

(This review was published on NoProscenium.com)