After a string of great mafia movies, Something Completely Different:

• The great mountain sheep gather.

Originally shown on BBC4 in 2020 (reviewed here), we can now watch it on YouTube:

From their base in the valley of Eskdale, the shepherds tend to their flock on the slopes of Scafell Pike.

I’m generally resistant to nature films, but this is an exquisite meditation in an awe-inspiring landscape, neither sentimental nor weird like One man and his dog. Sounds of nature (bleats, barks, birdsong) largely suffice—no romantic music distorts the grandeur of the landscape, and the human voice is heard only rarely. The shepherd Andrew Harrison occasionally makes thoughtful, instructive interjections in his dry, matter-of-fact tone. Specially-commissioned poetry by Mark Pajak was presumably designed as a contrast, and could probably be evocative, but I felt that Maxine Peake (otherwise wonderful) burdened it with too much thespian pomp.

Anyway, the drone footage is mesmerising, with long slow aerial pans an ideal way to transmit the tranquil majesty of the fells. At ground level, the bodycam on the shepherd enhances the atmosphere, while the only moments at all resembling hurly-burly come from the bodycams on sheep and dog.

One hardly feels a story is being told; the fells, and the sheep, are just there. Most of the time the solitary shepherd is the only human presence. Half-way through, the fellside gather adds a modest sense of drama, as he becomes part of a little team coaxing the sheep down from austere heights. Only towards the end do we reach verdant valleys, with enclosures, sheep pens, and even farmhouses, and the quasi-dénouement of the shearing. The aerial drone, tracing the patterns of the flock, continues to weave its magic.

It’s an enchanting film.

With thanks to Caroline

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Though I’ve never been at all nostalgic for my youth, I’m reminded of annual school holidays in the Lakes with my parents, exploring the fells with the aid of the Wainwright guides (rather before they acquired a wider cult following), with their beautiful hand-drawn maps, drawings, and directions—his project one of the great labours of love. Entering the world of fells, tarns, scree, bracken, and dry stone walls made a welcome diversion from Ancient Greek verbs and Ševčík violin studies in the London suburbs. Only rarely do I realise what a great gift those holidays were.

Still, the goal of outsiders swanning in for some fell-climbing is very different from that of the solitary local shepherd. For the Lakes and Heritage flapdoodle, click here.