Many of the shots presented in the eight short films shown at the Banff Mountain Film Festival screening last week really were something. The shot of skiers sliding down the fearsome peaks of Svalbard in front of a total solar eclipse was simply fantastical. And yet I felt somewhat estranged from the festival in general.

This may have been because of the style of the films. Too often they felt like advertisements. Although there was a good deal of sponsorship, the festival didn’t seem to be selling a product as much as it was promoting an adventurous approach to life. This is typically all fine and good, but the intensity of confident support for this lifestyle seemed to be preaching to the choir. If a person who is predisposed to view nature as a hostile, uncaring, and awful (in the archaic sense) sees such films, they will not register the sense of inspiration and wonder and beauty that is intended.

The structure of the films also felt too ad-like for personal preference as well. Well, there was one parody of pharmaceutical ads and a trailer for a soon-to-be-released documentary, but it seemed unintentional in the others. Most of the films felt like diluted versions of larger stories. A river expedition through the Yukon covers all the major events that happened, but the film jumps too quickly from one episode to the next. It would show the team members goofing around or passing an impressive cliff formation, but these moments did not feel properly woven together. Instead of a careful fluid progression of one event to the next, I felt a scattershot melange of memories visually uttered to wow a like-minded friend.

While I am quite glad that I went to the film festival, I also recognize that I could not enjoy it as much as the intended audience. Some prefer contemplative terror while others prefer exhilarating majesty.