Living Large

Premier IMAX filmmaker Greg MacGillivray didn’t start out on the really big screen, but he was always destined for it.

 

By Terence Loose

 

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reg MacGillivray has lived in the same Laguna Beach house for 30 years. It fronts the surf spot where he’s ridden waves with friends for over 40 years. Not far away is his Laguna office, which is housed in a decades-old villa where vintage cameras fight for space with nature books and antique furniture. All this, along with MacGillivray’s soft-spoken and relaxed manner, would lead most to believe his passport is stamp-free. Yet MacGillivray, now 56, has spent his entire adult life traveling to the world’s most spectacular places and bringing their spirit back on film – big, 70mm IMAX film – for the wonderment of others.

Clearly the leader in IMAX films, MacGillivray has completed 26, taking his cameras into the eyes of hurricanes, the paths of avalanches, to the summit of Everest and, most recently, for his just-released Coral Reef Adventure, 365 feet below the surface of the sea. MacGillivray’s always made movies that celebrate nature, with strong messages on how to preserve and protect her. But as a life-long surfer and diver, MacGillivray feels a special bond with coral reefs, known as “the rain forests of the oceans,” so this film represents a return to his roots as both a waterman and a filmmaker.

 Greg MacGillivray

Those roots go back to high school, when MacGillivray bought a used 16mm camera, which he saw advertised in the Daily Pilot, for $300 and started shooting footage of his friends surfing. It soon became his passion and when it came time to go to college, in what would become typical MacGillivray style, he chose his location for what it had to offer film-wise. “I went to UC Santa Barbara so I could finish my surf movie,” he says with a laugh. “It was about two-thirds completed, but I needed more footage, so I needed to go somewhere with good surf.” Despite the fact that the university had no film department, Santa Barbara it was.

There, he finished his film and started showing it in high school auditoriums. Because there was no sound, MacGillivray would cue up the Beach Boys and other surf music and narrate his film live, which proved to be as much a creative endeavor as the filming. “It was a performance,” remembers MacGillivray. “You were trying your hardest to be funny and interesting and you didn’t want to look like a fool.” And a lot rode on pulling off a good performance. “Surfers are really good at talking up things that are really cool and down things that are really lame,” he says. So a sold out first performance with boring narration could spell a second performance in front of empty seats, or worse. One filmmaker of the day was thrown out mid-narration by the audience for a less than stellar performance.

MacGillivray did more than survive the sandy critics, however, he thrived. After his first surf film, 1965’s The Performers, shot for $3,000, showed potential for making money, a radical idea struck him: “I thought, ‘Hey, maybe I can do this for a living.’” MacGillivray left Santa Barbara and went into the surf film business full time.

At first it was a family business of sorts. His father – a Corona del Mar lifeguard in the ‘30s and ‘40s and school teacher at the time – his mother, even his grandmother, would work the screenings for him. They’d drive up to Santa Barbara or down to San Diego, take tickets and return home the same night. “They were so supportive; anything I wanted to do they were right behind,” says MacGillivray. “And they worked cheap, so it was perfect.” It all paid off, literally. The Performers earned over $35,000; a filmmaker was born.

Soon, MacGillivray teamed up with best friend and fellow surf filmmaker Jim Freeman. The result was better and better films; they pushed each other to do only the best work possible. In fact, their first film together involved a six-month trek through 12 South American countries filming two surfers discovering new spots and surfing virgin waves. Their goal was not only to capture new and exciting places on film, but to do it in breakthrough ways. And so it was only a matter of time before the surf genre was left behind. This happened after completion of their best-known surf film, Five Summer Stories, now considered a classic. With that film, says MacGillivray, “we thought we’d done pretty much everything creatively we could do.”

MacGillivray worked for legendary filmmakers like Stanley Kubrick and Orson Wells, but it wasn’t until 1976, when he and Freeman made To Fly, an IMAX film chronicling the history of airplane flight, that he would find his niche.

To Fly made more than $150 million, becoming the highest-grossing documentary ever released, and was chosen by the Library of Congress for preservation in the National Film Registry. MacGillivray’s celebration was muted, however. His lifelong friend Freeman was killed in a helicopter crash while scouting locations just two days before To Fly’s debut. In honor of his partner, MacGillivray has kept the MacGillivray Freeman Films name.

Despite the tragedy, To Fly was a turning point for MacGillivray; he had found the film form that seemed to fit him best: IMAX, which uses an image 10 times larger than a standard 35mm movie, and is perfect for blending narrative and documentary in a visual splendor. “For me, the film and the message is the critical thing,” he says. “I try to be a storyteller and I try to affect people emotionally with our films.” In that way, IMAX is no different from his first soundless 16mm surf films that he had to narrate live. “I was trying to engage people on many levels, humorously, intellectually, visually, and to educate them,” says MacGillivray. With IMAX, his goals are the same; he just has better tools.

But ironically, the superior technology of IMAX makes the process even more difficult. Mainly, it’s due to the IMAX camera, which is big, heavy and noisy. “One of our cameras sounds like a lawnmower,” says MacGillivray. As such, it’s rare that the crew gets something as it happens the first time; almost always things are shot twice or three times. “So we try to combine the documentary with the feature film,” says MacGillivray. Which isn’t always easy. “There’ll be times when I say things like ‘Don’t forget to stumble there again. Remember, you don’t know about that rock.’”

The IMAX format also dictates what subjects MacGillivray can go after. “We have to look for big spectacles, big things that deserve the big screen. We can’t make everything in IMAX, and we shouldn’t.” Luckily for MacGillivray, nature specializes in spectacular. Enter the hurricanes, the avalanches and, in 1998, the film that would change IMAX forever, Everest. For that film, MacGillivray co-developed the lightest, most reliable large-format film camera to date, the Mark II, which weighs 42 pounds and is weatherized down to -40 degrees. But building a camera that could survive the world’s rooftop proved the least of the expedition’s challenges. The year of filming was 1996, the same year Everest claimed eight lives and recorded the mountain’s greatest tragedy. MacGillivray’s crew provided communications and other support, and when the storm cleared, MacGillivray told his climbers not to go up for the movie; they could return the following year. But in what would be typical dedication and inspiration, they did summit, and brought back unforgettable images.

Everest also represented the first of MacGillivray’s 10-film, 10-year Great Adventure Series, with the goal of making science adventurous (think Indiana Jones) and asking people to take a more active role in preserving nature. Since Everest, MacGillivray has brought audiences Dolphins and Journey Into Amazing Caves, an adventure into the most magnificent, most treacherous mountain, ice and under-water caves in the world. Coral Reef Adventure is the series’ fourth installment. And while Coral Reef represents Mac-Gillivray’s most expensive effort – coming in at $10 million, it doubles most IMAX budgets – the film also represents his most personally important film to date.

In 1998, due to a dramatic increase in water temperature during an El Nińo event, an unprecedented number of reefs died. It was a wake up call to divers around the globe: coral reefs are extremely fragile and were worse off than most thought. MacGillivray was alarmed enough to meet with Howard and Michelle Hall, respected underwater filmmakers who had worked with him on 1995’s Academy Award-nominated The Living Sea. They talked about the plight of coral reefs for six months or so until MacGillivray finally green-lighted a film. “I felt we couldn’t wait,” says MacGillivray. “That if we waited too long the reefs were going to change and we wouldn’t get the beauty I wanted to get on film.”

He didn’t know how right he was. Coral reefs are disappearing today faster than at any time in the last 3,000 years. In the last five years alone, 16 percent of the world’s reefs have been destroyed and many scientists say that unless mankind resolves to save them, coral reefs could vanish within 30 to 40 years. The good news is the reason they are dying is clear: increased global warming, which scientists are now united in attributing to human activities, over-fishing and siltation from land development. The bad news is it will take major and sustained changes to reverse the trend.

But MacGillivray is nothing if not an optimist, and proved it in the shooting of Coral Reef, which proved harder than any of his previous work – and remember, this is the guy who got a 42-pound camera up Everest. “When people understand that they’re making wrong choices and have a clear solution, people do change their behavior,” says MacGillivray. “It’s been proven with the whales and the pelicans and other animals that were previously written off. And that’s what we’re trying to inspire here.” In that vein, Coral Reef represents an attempt at the first stage, understanding, which is the hallmark of all MacGillivray’s films.

Shot during a 10-month journey across the South Pacific – chosen because it is synonymous with “paradise” the world over – Coral Reef includes footage of the Great Barrier Reef (Australia); Gau and Tavarua islands (Fiji); Bora Bora, Moorea, Tahiti and Rangiroa (French Polynesia). But don’t let the beauty on film fool you, filming in remote spots is never easy and filming underwater in IMAX format is downright foolhardy. “Since the camera is 300 pounds (neutrally buoyant underwater), once it starts going one way, it’s hard to turn,” says principal diver and photographer Howard Hall. “Plus, it’s so noisy it scares the fish away.” Also, there’s only three minutes in a roll. This didn’t create major problems in the shallower dives, but MacGillivray and his crew were determined to take IMAX audiences to uncharted territory, which meant going deep.

An entire month was spent diving to 365 feet, with 22 dives in all. On those deep dives, because of the more than three hours of decompression per dive, says MacGillivray, “the divers went down with the camera, shot three minutes and that was the day.” And because the 11 atmospheres of pressure flooded cameras and imploded underwater lights, images were only captured half the time “So you’re looking at a month’s work for four minutes of film, that’s what made it into the final cut,” MacGillivray says with a calm smile.

His smile quickly fades, however, when he tells of the worst part of the filming, which also came during the deep dives. At the end of a particularly arduous day, Howard Hall began noticing signs of every diver’s nightmare: decompression illness. Better known as the bends, DCI is actually a diver’s blood foaming in his veins due to a rapid lessening of pressure (picture champagne after popping the cork). If a bubble forms in the wrong place, such as the spinal chord, paralysis and death can follow. “When you go down that deep, you’ve got to expect bad things,” says Hall, “so we were prepared.” Prepared meant going back to 100 feet in the dark of night for another four hours, then to a Fijian hospital where he spent a week and underwent 17 hours in a recompression chamber. A stressful time for the entire crew, it was especially tough on MacGillivray. He considered insisting that Hall not participate in any further deep dives for the sake of the film, knowing that a greater risk of getting the bends exists after one episode. But Hall made the call to go on and returned to the deep.

That decision is indicative of the commitment and sense of importance that surrounded the making of Coral Reef and for MacGillivray, why he got into filmmaking in the first place. “An underlying thing with every one of our films is that if you follow your heart and your dream, life will be worth living. If you have the courage to do what you totally believe in you’ll be happier and more successful, and when your life is over you’ll feel better about the whole experience,” says MacGillivray. “With Coral Reef I think the biggest change I can probably help make is to inspire kids to become oceanographers. And frankly, being an oceanographer is a joyous thing, so it’s not like I’m leading them down the wrong path.” ţ

 

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