Last Breath: Real-life
drama of the North Sea diver who cheated death
Stephen Applebaum tells the story of Chris Lemons, left trapped without oxygen for half an hour on the seabed, and the rescue bid mounted by his colleagues in what is diving’s most dangerous industry
Last Breath (Image Courtesy of Dogwoof)
Imagine being stuck at
the bottom of the North Sea, with an emergency supply of air that is
quickly running out, and no immediate help available. Such was the
predicament that diver Chris Lemons was plunged into on 18 September
2012, when the umbilical cord that connected him to a diving bell,
providing him with gas for breathing, hot water, communications and
electricity, snapped, during routine work on a drilling structure at
the Huntington oil field, 115 miles east of Peterhead, Aberdeenshire.
What happened next
became a sensation inside the global diving community. People were
keen to know how Lemons’s employer, Bibby Offshore (now renamed
Rever Offshore), had dealt with the situation, so the company
commissioned a short industry film, Lifeline, from Floating
Harbour Films, in 2013, to, says the production company’s website,
“highlight the potentially extreme consequences of an incident in
the workplace”.
This has now been
developed into Last Breath, a feature-length documentary which
uses convincing reconstructions, original footage (there was a wealth
of it, captured by different devices in the water and on board the
Diving Support Vessel Bibby Topaz), and gripping interviews with
some of the key people involved, including Lemons’s team mates,
Dave Yuasa and Duncan Allcock, and dive supervisor Craig
Frederick, to create a nailbiting tale of survival against the odds.
Ethan Hawke gives the performance of his life as a priest in crisis in Paul Schrader's masterpiece, First Reformed. I met him at the Venice Film Festival in 2017. Ethan, Paul Schrader said he chose you because you look haunted from the very beginning and therefore fit the character. Do you recognise that about yourself?
"No you never know what people see in you. I remember, years ago, a director telling me I look like I believe in God, and that there;'s some people that look like they believe in God and some people that don't. So I thought about that when Paul asked me to play this part." Do you believe?
"I don't think it's a simple question. I think the short answer would be yes." There is a lot in the film about the end of civilisation. How do you feel about having kids the way the world is today?
"I'm grateful to be alive. I don't care what shape the world's in; I'm happy my parents had me. I don't think there's a parent in the history of mankind that doesn't feel fear for their children a little bit. We fear everything. It's our great resource to make ourselves sharper. Got to protect the species. And that fear extends to a larger place right now because our technological advances have gotten to such a point that we can do real harm to each other and to our world. Other generations didn't have the possibility of deforesting South America. These are new problems. But that's what's so wonderful to be part of a movie like this, because it, hopefully, will sponsor conversations like this as it gets seen throughout the world. That's the hope of making it."
Are there parts of you in the character?
"I love my character. I am so grateful for it. Have a character that even mentions some of the ideas and thoughts and themes. Paul Schrader's not the only person that's looking to the religious community for guidance and leadership, and what to do with an ever-changing world. We've gotten very little leadership from the religious community about where to place our fears and anxiety about the environment. We have a Pope right now that's really trying to do a good job with it. He's really preaching this a lot. And if the religious community could take up the baton of the environment concern, it would have a major, major impact. And so I think it's a serious question that Paul's pitching." You seem to like playing characters that write stories as the film is unfolding. Why is that? Obviously you've written books.
"You know, I think we all get cast in ways the directors see us. You know? We don't really control that. I'm always just trying to take the best part I can. I'm not looking for parts that people write anything. I wish I would be cast as a gladiator, but people don't see me that way." And how did you find doing the levitation scene?
"It somehow connects to the end of the movie. The movie's asking you to - there is an essay that Paul wrote about transcendental cinema, and we're all trying to transcend our environment, right? As human beings we're having difficulty pitching ourselves against the world. There's something about it that totally doesn't make any sense and it's crazy, and at the same time it makes perfect sense to me. You know? I remember when I first read it I thought, 'Well how's that going to work?' But the movie is strange. There is now doubt that the movie is strange.
"David Lynch has this great quote where he says the only place that's left, the uncharted territory for cinema, is things that don't make literal sense. And all our brains are always trying to make literal sense of everything, even though we can't do it with our own life. Lynch has done that to great effect and I think Paul is doing that a little too." When did you become aware of Paul's work and what was your initial reaction?
"I saw a double feature, there was a thing called Theatre 80 in New York that doesn't exist anymore, it was kind of a cinema club, and once a year they would show Taxi Driver and Raging Bull. So I watched that as a double feature when I was about 21 or something, and I have been following. I have worked with Richard Linklater a lot and Richard talks about Paul Schrader, about his mind and his contribution to cinema. I think Mishima: A Life In Four Chapters is Rick's favourite film. So I've been aware of him for a long time now." Do you come to work with a lot of questions? Do you question the director a lot?
"Some of them more than others, you know? Paul, at our first read-through of it, it was clear that you were meeting somebody that this film is coming out of them and in the best sense that people like to talk about art. But it was clear that this thing had been gestating in him and it was ours just to execute. Sometimes you show up on set and the directors need a lot of help or that's part of their game plan is to you create it for them. But you really could publish this screenplay. There wasn't anybody at that first read through that didn't feel like they didn't just witness a work of art."
Were you interested in the way that the film explored how a religious text can be used to justify extreme actions?
"Well religious texts have been used to justify extreme behaviour throughout mankind. I mean part of the wonderful thing about the forefathers of America is the separation of Church and State is based on that principle alone, that any religious dogma, no matter how beatific or well meaning, can be interpreted for murderous, greedy causes. Mankind has never stopped to do that. And so that's why you need laws." I think it's interesting that at a time when there is such a focus on Islamic terrorism, here we have a Christian character who is becoming radicalised.It is just not seen as much.
"Yeah but you've had Christian terrorists throughout history, too. The script very beautifully lays in the Abolitionist movement, which were Christian terrorists. John Brown was killing slave owners and citing the words of Jesus Christ as he did so." But that isn't so much part of the discourse.
"Well it is. You see me teaching these other kids." I mean generally. Outside the film.
"Oh yeah. It's part of the discourse of the film but not of our culture. And people find that very threatening. There's a case to be made that John Brown helped start the Civil War and helped end slavery. That's a scary discourse because the idea that there is a right kind of terrorism is scary to people. And it's something I find very interesting fodder for a dialogue in a movie. But people should be thinking because they're interesting questions." Are you religious?
Path of Blood: New
documentary explores jihadi extremism, radicalisation and al-Qaeda's
target, Saudi Arabia
Aimen Dean was
just 19 when he pledged allegiance to Osama bin Laden – until the
brutal reality of mass murder led him to be flipped by the Qataris,
and return to Afghanistan as a spy for MI6
In the years following
9/11, documentaries such as Restrepo and Armadillo gave
us intimate and unflinching accounts of the daily lives of troops
fighting the war in Afghanistan.
Jonathan Hacker’s Path
of Blood now offers a similar kind of insider’s eye – only
this time we’re taken behind the scenes of al-Qaeda in the Arabian
Peninsula, during their bid to topple the Saudi government in 2003.
Raw, uneditorialised
footage, shot by the jihadis themselves, captures the young men at
play and in action, complicating the popular image of fanatical
“death to the West” extremists. The overall effect is harrowing
and fitfully hopeful.
By showing how the
Saudis quashed the insurgency using tough counter-terrorism measures,
and then offered a rehabilitation programme to jihadis capable of
changing, the film offers a valuable lesson about how to address the
frightening phenomenon of radicalisation and terrorism.
Path of Blood is in cinemas now, and available on demand on iTunes on 16th July
Raised in Michigan by a Calvinist family, Paul Schrader has often written films in which a tormented central character descends into a personal hell.
In his latest film, the religious thriller First Reformed, which many consider to be the writer-director's late-career masterpiece, Ethan Hawke's boozy, diary-writing priest, experiences a crisis of faith which threatens to have catastrophic consequences.
I met Schrader, whose back catalogue includes the Martin Scorsese collaborations Taxi Driver and Raging Bulling, at the Venice Film Festival in 2017.
You have said something like this
is a film you have been making for a lifetime.
"No, actually only
a little more than two years. But it is the culmination of a
lifetime. Before I became a screenwriter I was a critic, and I wrote
a book on spirituality in films [Transcendental Style in Film: Ozu,
Bresson, Dreyer], which has just been reissued. So it was always the
kind of film I was interested in. Never thought I would actually make
one."
Why not?
"I was more interested in some
of the aggressive qualities of film: action, empathy, stuff like
that. I just never thought I would make a film like I wrote about.
And then a couple of years ago, I was having dinner with Pawel
Pawlikowski, who had done Ida, and he was talking about that film. And
then I left that dinner, I was walking, and I thought to myself,
'Time for you to write one of these movies.' Once I sort of
acknowledged that, it became easy.
"And also it had to do with the
financial realities. It's now possible for me to make this film
financially in a way it wasn't 10 years ago, just because the budgets
have come down so much. So, you know, 20 years ago this film would
have taken 40 days. Now it took just 20 days. That's a whole
different financial reality. And it applies across the board to all
films. So the upside is it's very to make a film now; the
downside is it's almost impossible to get it seen."
It's funny you mention Pawlikowski
because the film is reminiscent of The Woman in the Fifth, which also
has Ethan Hawke in, where he's also a writer and he writes the story.
"Yeah. No, the format is from
Ida, which is the traditional 1:33. In fact I wanted to do it in 1:33
black and white, but the financier blocked that with delivery
requirements for colour. So I made it in colour, but not
colourful."
Can you talk more about the
spirituality in this work and what it means in the state of America
today, people hiding behind religion, etc?
"Well, ah, I mean I was raised
in the Church. I still go to church. So you don't escape that kind of
programming. But you have to be careful when you
talk about The Church, because it's not a monolithic thing, and we
tend to describe the bigoted and bombastic evangelicals as if they
were The Church. They are not. They are a very vocal part of it, but
there is a mainstream liberal humanistic Christianity as well. And
so you have to be careful not to tar Catholicism or Protestantism,
whatever, with a brush of the fanatics. Just like you have to be
careful not to tar Islam with a brush of the fanatics."
Picking that up, First Reformed is about radicalisation, isn't it?
"In a way. I mean this guy has a
sickness. A sickness Kierkegaard called 'the sickness unto
death'. Lack of hope. Despair. Angst. And this sickness has
manifestations. The cloth of the clergy is one manifestation. The
diary is another. The alcohol is another. And finally the environment [Environmentalism] is a manifestation of his soul's sickness. He grafts this cause onto
himself, in fact picks it up like a virus from another person; but if
it wasn't the environment it would be another thing."
Why did you choose the
environment?
"Well,you know, theologians and
philosophers have beeen having discussions for four or five thousand
years and all those discussions are now in boldface because we are
actually at the point in human history where there may be some end to
those discussions. I mean you start talking about what is the purpose
of life? What is the purpose of humanity? What does it mean to be
human? What does it mean to have consciousness? You know, if you
stand on your tippy-toes and look, you can start to see the end of
that conversation. And therefore it's a very exciting time to be
alive, and a frightening one as well. So the environment takes these
classical religious and philosophical debates, and puts them in neon
flashing at you."
Do you share any of the views of
the character concerning the world?
"Well I don't think we, as a
species, will outlive this century. You know, the world is going to
be fine; we're not."
So what do we do then?
"Oh no, we'll be evolved. There
will be a post-human species. Which we already seem in bits and
pieces already. Carbon-based intelligence is now giving way to
silicon-based intelligence, and eventually carbon-based intelligence
will be seen as a period of history on the Earth."
Will these films survive? Will
your work survive?
"[Laughs] Well I tell ya, our
antecedents, they're going to have one hell of a museum. A museum to
humanity [laughs]. That'll be a great museum. And hopefully movies
will have a room in there."
Speaking of conservation, this
movie is extremely cinephilic. It's full of references to your
passions.
"Well, I mean, for me it's kind
of easy. I'm probably part of the most privileged generation in the
history of the planet. The baby boom generation. We have lived in the
cone of affluence and ease, leisure time. No one in the history of
planet Earth had it easier than we have. And we responded by fucking
it up. So the harder choice is for our children and the children
after them, which is what this one character says. What do you say to
your child when your child looks at you and says, 'You knew this was
happening and you did nothing about it'? What do you say? You say,
'Well, too bad for you. We had a good time.' So yeah, it is kind of
bleak in that way."
How did you choose the actors?
"Um, normally when you write a
script you don't think about actors because it makes you a lazier
writer. But I did start thinking about Ethan because when you have a
man of the cloth in this way, you like to have a haunted actor - that
way they don't have to play haunted. And Ethan has that haunted look.
So it's easier to do it with Ethan than, say, to do it with Brendan
Gleeson in Calvary, because Brendan had a very hard time looking
haunted. But Ethan looks haunted the moment you see him. So it was an
easier task and he was finally just about the right age. Three actors came to mind, one was Oscar Isaac and another was
Jake Gyllenhaal, and they were both, like, 10 years too young. Ethan
was just the right age."
Plus he reminded me, even
physically, of Gunnar Bjornstrand, in Bergman's Winter Light.
"Yeah, he is also reminiscent of
Monty Cliff in I Confess."
Was Winter Light a big referential
film, because I saw some nods to that?
"Well if you saw some nods you
would probably be right. In fact there are quite a few nods in this
film. I should do a 3D version where the footnotes come out at you
boom, boom, boom, boom. This is from this. This is from this."
Is it difficult for you to
visualise this inner turmoil? We see a lot of different ways of doing
it in your work, in Taxi Driver talking to the mirror, here with the
journal. How do you work around that to be effective in making the
audience feel that turmoil?
"I've done a number of
these films. I call them 'monocular films', because it's like looking
at life this way. You don't see any other life but your character's
life. There is no other life. And in fact if you saw another reality
other than the taxi driver's, you would break the spell. So you lock
into a kind of a person and the goal, hopefully, is to get the viewer
to start to empathise, because we do this naturally. Just like we
form constellations out of stars: the stars don't actually look like
a dog or a lion, we do that. That's how our mind works.
"So we form
these empathetic relationships with performers. And once you do that,
you end up identifying with someone who you realise isn't worthy of
your identification. And that's a very interesting place to put a
viewer because they're too far in to leave, and they're too invested
not to care. But they no longer believe in the rightness of the
character. So that's the kind of fascination."
A character in the film says the
younger generation is more extreme and more polarised. Is that you
talking and why do you think this has happened?
"Despair. I mean we now have the
first generation of people who no longer believe life will be better
than it was for their parents. It was always a premise of humanity
that things would get better. That if I work, sacrifice, I can
improve my lot. Kids today know they're not going to improve their
lot no matter how much they work. Well that's a bleak cloud to live
under and leads to all kinds of extremism, whether it be drugs, or in
behaviour, or in general apathy. I think that the opioid explosion in
the West has to be, somehow, connected to the sense of hopelessness."
Does that make you depressed?
"Well I'm out of here. I'm in
the First Class car. I'm going to be fine. My kids are fucked."
Some of the characters in your
films have already been to where you say young people are now.
They're often in despair. They're apocalyptic, in a way. Is the
younger generation where they have been?
"Well some of them, yeah. There's a lot
of denial going on. And denial festers. I don't know, if I were 20
years old again, 50 years ago, I'm not quite sure how I would react."
Martin Scorsese made Silence,
which was a film dealing with more or less the same issues. Were you
in touch with one another?
"No, no. I knew he was making
it. And in fact I tried to steal that script from him about 20-30
years ago. But, you know, I think he had a very big problem with that
film, because he set it in the past. Because the premise under which
that film was written, that book was written, no longer applies.
There was a premise that the missionary effort was inherently a
positive one. We used to believe that, 50 years ago. No one believes
it anymore. Now everyone thinks of missionaries as the spear-tip of
colonialism. And so the book was predicated on the premise that the
missionary effort was a positive one, and not even Marty believes
that anymore. So he ends up making a film in which Kundun and Last
Temptation of Christ have a debate, and no one wins [laughs]."
First Reformed opens in the UK and Ireland on July 13
Last Breath (Image Courtesy of Dogwoof)
Imagine being stuck at
the bottom of the North Sea, with an emergency supply of air that is
quickly running out, and no immediate help available. Such was the
predicament that diver Chris Lemons was plunged into on 18 September
2012, when the umbilical cord that connected him to a diving bell,
providing him with gas for breathing, hot water, communications and
electricity, snapped, during routine work on a drilling structure at
the Huntington oil field, 115 miles east of Peterhead, Aberdeenshire.
