The creation of my film The Monument, was the result of nearly 1,200 miles of driving down washboard roads, 80 miles of hiking (more like bushwhacking), innumerable hours editing footage, and one heck of an adventure.
On my very first day of filming, it was a hot, late spring day. I headed to a remote location in the dry chaparral region of the Cascade-Siskiyou National Monument that, according to a spot on the map, was home to a waterfall. Being an independent filmmaker, I became accustomed to tackling adventures solo. This solo approach has its perks, further connection with the place, solitude, and so on. But, on that day, I wished I had a buddy, or at least had mentioned to someone where I was headed.
As I crowned a steep hill after crawl-hiking up a loose talus slope I scared a jackrabbit out of the buckbrush and it bounded into the hills and out of sight. I began descending into a gulch, using what little bit of service I was using Google Maps to guide me to where I could imagine a waterfall existing. I was so focused on the filming and observing I had not even taken a break to have a snack or sip of water, so I thought I was simply a little delusional when I heard a deep growl sound behind me.
I whipped around just in time to see a couple of bear butts, loping up a fallen tree and out of sight. My heartbeat was deafening and my adrenaline was pumping. This was on the many memorable wildlife encounters that occurred over the two-year period of filming The Monument.
There were a few times I found myself on the polar opposite (literally) of a hot day in the chaparral complete with chance bear encounters. I set out with a goal to capture all of the seasons, and each of their unique impacts on the natural community. Sometimes reaching that goal resulted in frozen fingers and toes—even in the editing lab.
Producing a wildlife film is just not spending time walking around beautiful places filming incredible organisms. Cut to me sitting in an editing lab for the 200+ hours of editing it took to create the film. And for whatever reason, the editing lab had the seasonal variation of the most extreme places on the planet. One day I was greeted with cold gale-force winds and the next day I would find myself in the Sahara Desert. This made the already challenging task of editing that much more challenging.
My videography advisor once told me, “you find the story in the edit.” As a novice filmmaker, I was perplexed at this statement. I was spending so much time painstakingly writing and re-writing the narration, I wondered how I could possibly find the story anywhere else. However, early into the 200+ hours of film editing, I finally came to understand what he meant. The whole process of producing a film revolves around planning—where to shoot, when to shoot, what narration to include, etc.
But there comes a point when the footage just begins to come together like the pieces of a puzzle. This is not something you can really plan for, it just kind of happens—and it was amazing. I got to know every clip of footage that I had taken so well. In turn, I began to get to know the place and all its creatures so well. It was a transformative way to interact with a place and its ecosystems.
I frequently get asked what I hope the viewers “take away” from the film. That has been a question that has stumped me since I began this project over two years ago. I think at the crux, my hope was to create a documentary that ignites an appreciation and sense of wonder for the Monument, and the variety of life it represents.
My hope was to open the eyes of those who watch the film, to help them see, and maybe learn a bit more about, the other creatures with whom we share the air we breathe and the planet on which we live. These creatures, and their roles in our global ecosystem, are so diverse and important, and we depend upon them more than we could ever know.
– Crystal Nichols
