The Great White Silence – review

Part of the thrill watching Herbert Ponting's extraordinary record of Captain Scott's doomed race to the South Pole is knowing that its original audiences must have been watching at least some of these sights on film for the first time: killer whales, their dorsal fins menacing up from the sea; querulous penguins; fearsome crystal cliffs of ice. Ponting was the expedition's official photographer, and the BFI has spent years beautifully restoring his footage – which he edited into this silent feature film in 1924. Today, we are familiar with documentaries from inaccessible places, but here to some extent, is the mystery and majesty of the landscape restored. It's jollied along by Ponting's idiosyncratic commentary on inter-titles. Derek Jarman collaborator Simon Fisher Turner has written a new score, plucking strings and blippy beats that lurch forebodingly as Scott and his four companions prepare their assault on the Pole. We watch them disappear, industrious black beetles against the white snow, never to return. There is surprisingly little of Scott, just a few snatches – they didn't go in for introspection, this lot. That is until the end, as Ponting excerpts hauntingly from his diary: "Great God, this is an awful place!"