Only
the eagle-eyed will spot a fake... (Filed: 28/01/2004 Daily Telegraph
UK)
Natural
history filmmakers should be allowed to manipulate images but not distort
the truth, says David Attenborough
Do natural history programmes on television distort reality? Of course
they do. Go for a walk in a tropical rainforest after watching a programme
about one and you will be in no doubt of that. On television, all kinds
of animals appeared continuously all over the place. In reality, you
may be lucky to see a single bird or monkey.
But are there distortions that are more serious than that? Does it matter
that a programme about the life of a polar bear, filmed for the most
part in the Arctic, includes shots of a mother bear giving birth that
were taken in a zoo - and that the commentary did not say so?
That depends on the programme. If the programme claimed to be recording
the actual adventures of an Arctic explorer then that would clearly
be wrong. But if its aim was to document the life history of the polar
bear then I believe that could be acceptable. Filming a polar bear birth
in the wild is virtually impossible. Trying to do so might well endanger
the lives of both the cameraman and the cub, were the mother to be disturbed.
So the only way to include shots of that crucial event in a bear's life
is to film it in captivity.
Is it acceptable - on occasion - to use film to suggest that something
happened which did not? Sometimes it is. That swoop by a peregrine falcon
did not, in fact, result in the death of a grouse. The puff of feathers
rising into the sky was thrown into the air by one of the film crew.
With such a shot at his disposal the skillful film editor was able to
create a sequence representing a successful peregrine hunt - without
it costing the life of a bird.
But such stagings must be done with care. Sometimes, a film shows an
event that not only did not take place on that occasion, but has never
happened - ever. The most notorious example comes not from television
but from the cinema. Producers working for Disney in the years when
the organisation regularly produced natural history documentaries, made
a film about the Arctic. Its highlight was a sequence featuring lemmings.
Every few years, according to a widely-believed story, lemming numbers
increase to such an extent that the animals, swarming over the tundra,
eventually deliberately commit suicide by swimming out to sea and drowning
themselves .
So the Disney film team working in northern Canada paid local children
to collect live lemmings. A few dozen were then taken down to an enclosure
on the banks of a river and filmed in such a way that the few dozen
appeared to be a plague. They were then chivvied until they came to
the edge of a river bank and tumbled over it into the water. And the
filmmakers had their sequence.
But two things were wrong. First the lemmings that gave rise to the
story were not Canadian ones but a quite different species that occurs
in Scandinavia. And second the story is, in any case, a myth. Populations
of Scandinavian lemmings in some years, do vastly increase in numbers.
And then they do indeed start searching for food with such desperation
that they will occasionally swim across rivers. But they don't commit
suicide at sea. None the less, the film gave such a convincing portrayal
of the story that many still believe it - on this evidence alone.
The need for such tricks has, over the years, become less and less.
Lenses have become more powerful. The large film cameras driven by clockwork
that we had to use a few decades ago have been replaced by electronic
cameras, some no bigger than a lipstick that can be strapped to an eagle's
back or lowered down a mouse-hole. We can now, with infrared light,
record what goes on in what appears to both animals and ourselves to
be total darkness.
But, paradoxically, these huge advances in our ability to record reality
have coincided with other developments that enable us to falsify more
convincingly than ever. Just as computer imaging can bring long-extinct
dinosaurs back to life, so the same techniques could also make living
animals appear to do things that a cameraman failed to film in reality
- maybe because he was unlucky or because, in spite of what some book
said, the animal in fact never behaves that way.
We can now combine pictures so perfectly that a natural history presenter
could appear to be crouching within a yard of a ferocious animal that
he has never ever seen. That has not happened yet - as far as I know.
It would be nice to say that if you or I looked closely enough we could
spot it. But electronic techniques are now so ingenious that such deceptions
could be almost undetectable.
In these circumstances, television producers and the organisations which
transmit their work have to guard their reputations for honesty with
greater care than ever. The BBC Natural History Unit already has a code
governing the treatment of animals during filming. The welfare of the
subject is more important than the success of the film.
There should be no lighting that makes it easier for one animal to hunt
another. It also lays down rules about deceptions. Telling the story
of an animal identified as an individual but using shots of several
is now impermissible. Other tricks and techniques we have used in the
past, no matter how well-intentioned, are no longer acceptable.
And quite right too. The natural world contains enough astonishments.
Who would believe that spiders throw silken lassoes at their prey, that
dolphins work in well-drilled teams to drive fish up on to a mud bank,
that baby shrews dance the conga with their mother in the lead to make
sure they don't get lost.
"But we saw that in a programme the other night" some will
say. Let's not get to the stage when someone else can reply, "You
don't want to believe what you see on the telly - even in natural history
programmes."
As filmmakers trying to illuminate the natural world, we must be allowed
to manipulate images and use all the devices that recent technological
advances have given us. But we must also recognise our responsibilities
to scientific truth. The events and the creatures we chronicle are more
than just entertainment that can be jazzed up to taste.