Are we there yet? Wallace and Gromit creators join Greenpeace to tackle the climate crisis
Green Sea Turtle in the Sargasso Sea
Sam Vladimirsky reviews Turtle Journey, a new animated film to highlight the global ocean crisis.
“It started out like any other trip home,” echoes the baritone of Stranger Things’ David Harbour, who assumes glorious sea turtle form in Aardman Animations’ latest short, Turtle Journey: the crisis in our oceans, released today. The studio that introduced us to the green-vested, puppy-eyed, cheese-filled claymation universe of Wallace and Gromit in 1989 have teamed up with Greenpeace UK to tackle the growing ocean crisis, an issue side-stepped by Disney’s Finding Nemo and The Little Mermaid (then again, it wasn’t coral Ariel was brushing her hair with).
What begins as the tale of a turtle family heading home from grandma and grandpa’s - set to a generic but heartwarming piano score that comforts you in the same way the pitter patter of rain might - quickly becomes a gut-wrenching, soul-seizing warning bell that will knock you off your feet, or, more likely, leave you slack-jawed at your screen. Aardman pull it off in under 90 seconds.
The story is largely told through the lens of the family’s daughter: “It’s a video, mum!” rings the voice of Game of Thrones’ Lyanna Mormont (Bella Ramsey). As Father Turtle (Harbour) helms the car - an upturned clamshell that comfortably seats five - he endures familiar family road trip frustrations: a crying baby flinging toys about; his wife’s attempts to calm him down with a game of I Spy; a technology-loving teen experiencing the moment through her screen; and a snapback-clad teenage boy turtle moaning the infamous four-words: are we there yet?
They soon run into traffic - two unyielding blue whales - and Harbour’s turtle takes what his daughter protests is yet another “Dad Detour” (“I’m taking the scenic route!”) It was anything but. As the car and our camera feed start shaking (“It’s probably just road work!”), a towering oil drill emerges in the background, spilling thick, black petrol before a patch of coral. Driving on, our turtles are caught in a current of sea critters and human garbage. Plastic bags, cutlery, discarded jeans, and water bottles swim in a murky marriage between oil and seawater. Finding joy in bubbles of petrol floating past, Baby Turtle sticks his tongue out, and begins to choke. “Don’t do that!” intervenes Mom, as if he should have known better. As if this was a regular occurrence.
In the second most tear-jerking episode of the short, a pink starfish gets swept into the current, and smacks against Father Turtle’s face. Petrol covers her skin in growth-like patches, as she cries “I’m sorry, I can’t see!” before being whisked away by a torrent of water. This is not the current where Finding Nemo’s Marlin met the infamous sea turtle, Crush (dude.) Then again, this isn’t 2003.
Finally, the group arrives at their destination. Light illuminates the symphony of pink and purple coral surrounding their green-doored stone dwelling that could easily pass for a Hobbit Hole. Something is wrong. It’s too quiet, points out the son, to Mom’s reassurances that the neighbours are probably just out. As they exit the car, a piercing blue light slowly creeps in from stage left, then overwhelms the scene, as a hulking piece of machinery sweeps in, destroying all in its path. The last thing we see is Mother Turtle rushing to her loved ones, as her husband reassures the children that “It’s all gonna be okay.” The camera shakes. All goes black.
Cut to: the near future. The camera shows Father Turtle and his children weeping before a blurry gray nothing where once stood their home. Mother Turtle is nowhere to be seen.
Cut again: a smiling Father Turtle leading a mass of shelled protesters waving colourful banners that read “Like the Oceans We Rise,” “Save Our Home,” and “Ocean Sanctuaries NOW!” as the voices of Harbour and Ramsey remind us “We can’t change the past, but we can demand a better future.”
Greenpeace’s campaign comes at a time when young people have been some of the most vocal, believing that older generations’ empty promises result only in half-hearted attempts at change, and a quick return to business as usual. A corporate logo stamped on activist paraphernalia, or a focus on liberal-minded merchandise over actual progress. The issue of gun control in America has the students of Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School as their champions. Those working to combat the climate crisis have unofficially selected sixteen-year-old Greta Thunberg as their most vocal champion. “This is all wrong. I shouldn’t be up here,” she pressed in a fiery speech at the U.N. last September, “You are failing us. But the young people are starting to understand your betrayal. The eyes of all future generations are upon you.”
“The growing threats and concern over ineffective and fragmented governance have paved the way for a once-in-a-generation opportunity to safeguard life in international waters,” reads 30x30: A Blueprint For Ocean Protection, Greenpeace’s plan for the protection of oceanic species and habitats. Crafting legislation to protect global waters has always been challenging, due to the transboundary nature of oceans themselves. Yet more than 190 countries met at the UN last year to negotiate a historic Global Ocean Treaty, with hope of a 2020 ratification and 2030 completion. Its primary purpose would be to create a perimeter of ocean sanctuaries, no-go zones for destructive human activity. As we find ourselves at the precipice of irreversible damage to our planet, I say to those in doubt, to those who share Teen Turtle’s question are we there yet?, the answer remains the same: if we do nothing, we are about to be.
To sound the alarm in the medium of clay, Turtle Journey’s director Gavin Strange wanted to “tell a personal yet universal story of family, loss and hope to best connect with audiences around the world.” Recruiting the vocal talents of Harbour and Ramsey, alongside Oscar winners Olivia Colman and Dame Helen Mirren, Downton Abbey’s Jim Carter, and comedian Ahir Shah, Strange makes his pitch.
With six out of seven sea turtles facing extinction, they made a painfully appropriate choice to carry the film’s message and bridge generational gaps with their universal appeal. “Aardman’s global popularity and distinctive blend of humour and emotion can bring this message to people around the world,” says Greenpeace oceans campaigner Louisa Casson, “spurring bold action to protect the oceans.”
In the final season of Game of Thrones, Bella Ramsey’s Lyanna Mormont, a fiercely outspoken female leader, not unlike Thunberg herself, rises bloodied from battle, and screams as she runs toward the giant blocking her way. As she is crushed to death, Mormont pierces his eye, killing a beast thought unkillable with a short sword no one thought would inflict much change.
Bella Ramsey faced her giant. It’s time we faced ours.