A Funeral For Ice

“A Funeral For Ice” began as a way to capture the stories of a planet undergoing profound change. I wanted to document the stories of glaciers- their disappearance- and the human beings who, in both geographical and emotional proximity, were witnessing and experiencing these shifts firsthand. The project is, in essence, a eulogy for these once-powerful natural monuments, highlighting the loss we face. Through the documentary, I aimed to explore the complex relationship between humans and the environment, especially in the face of climate change. The film weaves together three parallel journeys: to the Ayolocco glacier in Mexico, to Okjokull in Iceland, and to Clark in Oregon, following those who have been closest to these glaciers as they face their death. The documentary’s heart lies in the people. We meet Bessi, an Icelandic mountain guide who hikes the glaciers with his pet dog, Kami. We encounter the farmers of Husafell, who, despite the evidence before them, refuse to believe that Okjokull is truly gone. We hear from young activists who, every Friday, stand outside the Icelandic parliament, fighting for the future of their land. There are the glaciologists who signed the death certificates for these glaciers, as well as the Mexican poet who, in tears, speaks of the loss of Ayolocco. An Icelandic presidential candidate adds his voice, as do the Grancieros and mountain guides of Amecameca, whose spiritual ties to the glaciers run deep. Mexico’s first female drone pilot, who grew up hiking on glaciers worldwide, also offers her reflections. Each person brings their own perspective on what these glaciers meant to them, and the film captures their grief, their memories, and their hope for the future. In the documentary, I chose to structure the story in acts, inspired by Elisabeth Kübler- Ross’s five stages of grief as laid out in her 1969 book, On Death and Dying. The stages- denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance- are reflected in the film's progression, offering a framework to understand how communities react to loss. This approach allowed the film to move beyond the simple presentation of facts, offering a more nuanced exploration of the emotional landscapes tied to climate change. Stylistically, I sought to create something artistic, almost an experimental documentary that pushes boundaries. We took liberties with multimedia editing, enhancing reverb, experimenting with typography, using cool tones, and incorporating archival material in creative ways. I didn’t want the film to follow a traditional documentary structure; instead, I wanted it to be a sensory experience that reflects the emotional depth of the subject matter. It’s a piece meant to be felt as much as understood. One of the most powerful aspects of this project has been its ability to transcend borders. I knew I wanted to find a common thread- something universal- that could link these stories from different parts of the world. Iceland, Mexico, and Oregon couldn’t be more different, yet the core emotions we uncovered were the same: love for the land, deep grief over its transformation, and the desire to protect what remains. Most people we met, though living in different cultures and facing varying challenges, all shared a profound respect for their natural surroundings. Their grief, while expressed in diverse ways, ultimately showed how connected we are across the world. On a personal level, the film has been a manifestation of ambition. It’s been a project that pushed me to connect with others in ways I had never done before. As both the Producer and Director, I was responsible for reaching out to people, following threads, and weaving together their stories. Even though I had never visited many of these communities before, I managed to reach out to almost forty people, each with their own unique perspective. These stories were empowering, and the connections we built were humbling. As we were departing, we were told: “Know that in Mexico you have your home.”