STRIPPED TO ITS CORE,

“Is it possible to have a good life without wasting so much?”

Well, depending on your own nature (plus irritability factor), you may want to either scream “YES, YOU MORON, ARE YOU KIDDING?!” or more calmly intone, “Absolutely, Mr. Beavan, I already get it and am doing what I can, but how do we efficaciously spread the gospel far and wide?”

Well, with response two lies the big question, which No Impact Man, the blog, the book and the movie, grapples with to varying degrees of success. As we’re already deep in cliche-ville when it comes to constant reminders of “it’s not easy being green,” do we need another reminder of how our modern world of 24/7 conveniences and heedless mass consumption clash head-on with getting back to planet-preserving simplicity, if not to the non-subsidized, people-powerd farm, preferably off the grid, where the vast majority of GDP-boosting consumer practices are eschewed or pilloried?

I believe the answer’s yes, especially if it sparks dialogue and debate, and seeps, burbles or boils further into the mainstream.

In No Impact Man, the movie, wider viewership (now that it’s on DVD) can be stimulated by its simple “reality TV factor,” which draws the trendy gaze by its train-wreck premise—How is Beavan’s family going to actually do this for a whole year without going batty? Can they survive without—gasp!—toilet paper, disposable diapers for the baby, a fridge, packaged foods, etc.? It becomes as much an intimate character study (there’s a bit of cabin fever on display here, too) as stick-by-your-guns eco-pledge, and it works quite effectively well in this potentially wobbly and at-odds context. It certainly shows the everyday challenges of attempting to live a no/low-impact life (the ice-cooler “cheat,” when it occurs, is entirely understandable and easy to commiserate with).

So if you’re not entirely put off by the book and blog gimmick tie in (Julie and Julia, anybody?), take a gander at No Impact Man while sitting in the dark, and why not? spread the gospel of wasting little and living more.

—Allen

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

Hit the lights, pop the corn and buckle up: it’s time for some first-rate eco-horror, indeed!

IF THIS ISN’T FRIGHTENING ENOUGH, just wait for the thundering herd of ghost caribou to show up (actually a lot more eerie and effective than it sounds), a circling murder of crows (a bird that figures largely in Native American mythology, and an arresting black-on-white visual for the film), a horrifying plane crash (the mechanical world of man breaks down throughout the film, and always at the most inopportune moments) and what might or might not be the appearance of a Wendigo (an ice-hearted, fast-as-the-wind Native American spirit monster that hungers after human flesh; seek out Margaret Atwood’s essay “Eyes of Blood, Heart of Ice,” which compiles all sorts of chilling Wendigo lore, including how a human can “go Wendigo,” if you desire more about this beastie).

Director, editor and cowriter Fessenden is an indie filmmaker with a penchant for taking horror tropes and turning them on themselves. He’s fiddled with Dr. Frankenstein (No Telling), vampire (Habit) and monster (Wendigo—yes, that critter again) themes and gone places you wouldn’t expect—primarily by mixing intelligent social commentary with complex, interesting characters and then plopping them down in settings unremarkable and commonplace (always sharp contrasts with the goings-on about to ensue); The Last Winter in ANWR (actually lensed in Iceland) perhaps not as much, although a good part of the film takes place in the dull utilitarian camp quarters of North Industries. Thankfully, we’ve got Ron Perlman (“God wants us to drill this stuff!”), a long-suffering Connie Britton (Friday Night Lights), a haunted Zach Gilford (also from TV’s Friday Night Lights), heroic greenie (and indie-film stalwart) James LeGros and always-reliable character actor Kevin Corrigan to keep things lively, that is, before things start getting deadly—remember, this is a horror flick.

I don’t want to give any more away, but I will say there’s an ominous sequence rather reminiscent of, to me, one from Andrei Tarkovsky’s Sacrifice—hey, this global warming/climate change thing needs to be taken seriously; you don’t just shrug your shoulders, walk away and everything’s okay, hunky dory, wheh! it’s only a movie. Can a tiny indie eco-horror flick from a couple years ago help raise a rallying cry, even if only in some small way? I think there’s an audience out there—I’m sure I’m not the only one who’s seen this little gem—and they’re listening, and they’re not entirely passive.

As Gilford’s lost and haunted character, Maxwell McKinder, shares after decrying how fossil fuels are siphoned/ripped from deep beneath the earth, how they’re the ancient remains of plants and animals, that is, ghosts or perhaps vengeful spirits: “WE’RE GRAVE-ROBBERS.” Boy, message received; now there’s a horror-filled thought for you. See The Last Winter, it doesn’t have to be Halloween, and pass it on.

—Allen