Antarctica: A Year on Ice

New Zealand dairy farmer Anthony Powell has spent most of his adult life at the South Pole, and spent the last ten years filming primarily time-lapsed scenes for the gorgeous, 90-minute documentary "Antarctica: A Year on Ice."

He built special gear to function in the extreme cold, to record the Antarctic's two seasons: Summer, which starts in October when about 5,000 people come to do science or support scientists; and winter, when about 700 hardy souls live mostly in darkness.

When residents first arrive, usually via a spartan Air Force transport, "the first breath is like a sledgehammer to the face, the real deal."

The largest of the multinational stations is the US's McMurdo, set by the active volcano Mt. Erebus, where no pets or children are allowed. Many residents seem to fit the nerd stereotype, happy to be alone but, having to interact and work together intensely, also appreciate the human cooperation that works well there, and that nations get along better in the Mars-like dry valleys than anywhere else on the planet.

The summer brings ten million pounds of supplies via ship, some of which are delivered to farther sites via helicopter, as well as Adelie penguins, which live about 18 years and have "chicken intelligence." An interviewee notes that typical nature films don't show the thousands of frozen bird corpses that cover the landscape (a resident says that they are forbidden to assist struggling wildlife, including the birds and seals), nor can video capture the "sewer-like stench of 100,000 penguin droppings").

At the end of February, the sun starts to dip below the horizon, and winter brings winds the speed of a Category 1 hurricane once a week, a Category 3 once a month, and a Category 5 once a season. At April's end, the sun sets permanently for four months, and the workers spent their dark time repairing summer equipment and tools, doing inventory and crafts, getting cabin fever (which they call T3 syndrome, missing "the smells of flowers, rain, green grass, and dirt in this volcanic landscape") yet reveling in the glorious aurora australis, or the mainly green neon southern lights.

Twilight creeps back into the sky in August, the coldest period, and the preponderance of clouds during this time make the sky look like it's on fire. The new arrivals at the end of the month bring an array of emotions (as well as fresh fruit and new germs) to those who weathered the winter: Glee, revulsion, energy, territorialism, plus a lot of orange (their parkas as well as their skin color compared to the pale residents).

Enjoy this unmatched portrait before climate change and oil rights battles besmirch this primarily pristine planetary promontory.

For screening information, visit http://frozensouth.weebly.com