IMAX Reaches Top of the World

by Brian Phillips

Is there a book, if not many, that you can remember, one that affected you so radically that you can still see yourself reading it? The room. The time. The words. Everything about the actual reading of the book is still photographed in your memory? Jon Krakauer’s Into Thin Air (told initially in a gripping story on the pages of Outside magazine and later in a riveting book under the same title) was, for me, such a book. Krakauer’s tale of his ascent to the summit of the world’s tallest mountain was a story with all the emotion, history, locale, and drama of the world’s best fiction. To tell a story so honestly, to include the perfect balance of elation and chagrin, to describe the top of the world without cliché but to the point is a true achievement.

Everest, showing at the IMAX Theatre at Whitaker Center in Harrisburg is a tale about mountain climbing’s darkest month. In the early days of May, 1996, seven people died climbing Everest’s Southeast route. Though the story of these deaths is occurring at the same time as this movie is being filmed, in fact the journeys, both ending during the month of May 1996 at 29,028 feet above sea level, overlap, death and tragedy are not the focus of Everest. It is a tale about success and beauty but, above all that, it is a tale of courage and victory in the face of great tragedy.

The subjects of this 45 minute documentary — Ed Viesturs, Araceli Segarra, Jamling Tenzing Norgay, Sumiyo Tsuzuki, and Paula Viesturs — were on the mountain May 10, when the teams led by Scott Fisher and Rob Hall made their push for the summit. These two stories are inseparable. John Krakauer was with the Fisher team. He watched and listened while members of his team perished. He survived the quirky storm that descended on the mountain and swept away seven lives. Climbing those 29,000 feet has changed everything about his life. His epiphany, carefully documented, was what I wanted to see. I wanted to go to the mountain top and see what he saw. Granted, Krakauer was not a part of the IMAX climbing team, and I would not see what happened to his fellow climbers or witness the storm that swept the lives of his teammates off the mountain, but that was not the important thing; I wanted to gain a visual perspective. I wanted to be a witness. I somehow needed to be there when all of the events happened. This film gave me the perfect opportunity to do that.

And the film delivered. It gave me exactly what I hoped for: perspective.

Everything I was hoping to see I saw. I saw broad sweeping shots of the largest mountain in the world. I saw moving snow, great walls of ice, 700 foot crevices, and I saw frostbitten faces. I saw the beauty of the mountain and I saw human despair. All of this on a six-story screen. Add to that the ingenious and creative camera work, planned and executed by co-director David Breashears, plus a story filled with human drama: nail biting excitement, tears, victory in the face of the personal tragedy, and you will begin to understand what this film has to offer. While watching these 45 minutes, I was transported, if only vicariously to the other side of the world. I experienced life on the mountain. I could feel the bitter cold, the oxygen-deprived insanity, and the fear. I witnessed death. I witnessed the elation of Beck Weathers’ rescue. For 45 minutes I was there. I was a part of Mt Everest in May of 1996.

Unfortunately this film has one gaping problem, and that problem can be seen as a direct result of Hollywood’s need to constantly out-effect itself. Not that this film is a result or product of any sort of Hollywood dealing, though Hollywood’s best promoters couldn’t have come up with a better team than Liam Neeson, who provided the narration, and George Harrison, who provided the music, to use in marketing a film, but the fault is definitely a result of that blockbuster mentality that gauges box office draw by the number of buildings that get blown up. The beginning of Everest is laden with a number of scenes that are quite honestly frivolous. They are the trademark IMAX scenes that give you that light-headed, “oh my god, I am going to lose my lunch” feeling. Typically these scenes are colorful and the camera moves quickly, covering a great distance in a short time. What Macgillivray Freeman does not realize is that this film does not need special effects to be effective or to ensure its success. The story is filled with its own type of special effects. To add a colorful mountain biking scene or a panoramic rock climbing scene reminiscent of something out of Mission Impossible II is silly. Not that I mind a good roller coaster visual effect, but when you are filming the ascent of the Lhotse Face, a 3,700 foot pitch of ice, or the crossing of a gaping abyss with only the help of a less-than-sturdy aluminum ladder, why bother?

Despite this minor flaw, which I am sure will impress some, and though the real tragedy of this expedition is just touched on and the litter problem facing the mountain is never mentioned, this is still a great film, if incomplete. In the end, perhaps the most complete telling of this story will be found by, yes, seeing the movie, and I would by all means recommend it. But after seeing it, take it in, remember it, and then buy, check out, or borrow a copy of Into Thin Air. Read it and then you will know the whole story, from the top of the world to bottom.