“That rare film which offers a roadmap to our survival but also finds a way to burrow itself deep into the crevices of our subconscious, changing the way we do things in our daily lives.”
Danish filmmaker and artist Robin Petré has dedicated her work to exploring human-animal relations and what our coexistence means, and will mean more and more, for our mutual survival. In her latest documentary Only on Earth she takes us deep into the dry bush of Galicia in Spain, one of the most fire-prone terrains on earth, through the eyes of those who call it home. Among them are San the firefighter, 10-year-old Pedro the aspiring cowboy, Cristina the farmer and firefighter, and Eva, a vet but also a badass who can ride as well as the male cowboys and who has dedicated her life to horses, both wild and tame.
Only on Earth takes place during a hot, dry summer in the mountainous, wine-rich lands of O Rosal and it proves a haunting look into our own future on earth. With Los Angeles still reeling from the fires that razed two antique and historical communities – Altadena and Pacific Palisades – to the ground, and the recent fire in London which shut down indefinitely the venue where one of the BAFTA afterparties was to take place, we should now know what fires represent for the human condition. And yet we create more and more opportunities for our world to go up in smoke.
Perhaps it’s because, as Petré’s doc so wisely allows us to realize, man is born with an insatiable desire to destroy nature. During an unsettling scene between little Pedro and his buddy, the two peel the bark off trees, as one declares “I bent a tree!” with pride. Then they run off on their way to more boyish games, yelling intermittently “run!” at each other. Even as a young Galician, battling for survival every day of his existence, Pedro is a regular human – unable to help himself.
The film’s title credits play at the start over a black screen, as we hear what we believe to be the ticking of nails typing on a keyboard. As a writer myself, it was no surprise that’s what I figured it to be. Instead, once the black screen is done away with, we witness where the sound came from, another unsettling reminder of our existence on earth. The flickering embers of a fire burning bright light up the screen. Another manmade sound which turns out to be not what we expect is the droning of mechanical windmills, harvesting power at the cost of wildlife. The doc tells us that animals often get into trouble trying to avoid the intrusive presence of these mills. US President Trump recently proved that old American saying that even a broken clock is right twice a day, when he vowed to stop the use of windmill farms due to their unsustainability.
Only on Earth is full of wisdoms that we need to witness for ourselves to really allow them to sink in. Like what San says over the phone, that “wild animals would rather go back into the flames than come near humans.” But also the strange dance that Pedro and his horse perform, as the young cowboy is trying to brush him down. It’s love and trust, but also distrust between the human and his animal, and the horse keeps looking for Pedro’s eyes, to understand if what he’s going to do next is going to hurt or feel fine. It’s like a line in the film’s press kit which lingers on in my thoughts: “…the animals, especially the horses, who are always returning our gaze when we look at them.” When instead, we humans will do our evil hiding behind policies and announcements without ever catching their gaze, or even being in their presence.
Through the masterful cinematography of María Goya Barquet, Only on Earth becomes that rare film which offers a roadmap to our survival but also finds a way to burrow itself deep into the crevices of our subconscious, changing the way we do things in our daily lives. Give it a try, if it plays on a streaming platform you’re subscribed to, because although the film would be best viewed on a big screen, watching it – by any means necessary – is a must.