The Kids Are Alright: An Interview with Damon Gameau

Photo: Luke Hemer

Damon Gameau isn't done addressing the climate crisis.

Six years on from his previous feature, 2040, which saw him investigate our bleak ecological forecast, the actor-turned-documentarian has resumed his fight for nature's safety. He has once more travelled to a plethora of nations to grasp the continual devastation we've inflicted and what is now required to course correct. This time, however, a tiny collective is by his side. Gameau assembled eight adolescent activists from around the world to give them the ability to speak directly with those determining their future. His last piece was made for his child, but this one is seen through a child's eyes, in all its fear and all its hope. 

The film takes its title from the name his team calls themselves — Future Council — and Gameau and I spoke about it prior to its nationwide release. We discussed reawakening his inner child, modifying his direction, and the balance between flourishes and vérité. This conversation has been edited and condensed for clarity. 

This story contains mild spoilers for the film Future Council.

CONNOR DALTON: What were the logistics behind this globe-spanning undertaking? 

DAMON GAMEAU: This was a logistical monster, as you can imagine. You're trying to cast eight children from eight different countries. They've all got different socioeconomic backgrounds, different eating preferences, and all their parents have got their own views, so it was a big mission. I was driving the bus at the front, so I had to get my truck licence. Then there was a coach with all the luggage and the parents behind us. Then there were three camera trucks behind that. We kind of snaked our way across eight countries in Europe, but it was all put together very quickly, actually. Normally, you take a lot of time with these things, but this one happened fast. 

I found out about the job in January, I put out the casting call in March, had 1300 kids apply, whittled that down to a shortlist of 300, then somehow chose the eight. We were all on the road by the end of June, and I was in the edit by August. It was a pretty crazy process, but I think that added to the magic. I think you can feel the connection that the children had in the film because we all signed on for this madcap adventure, and we were all united by a common purpose of telling this bigger story, so a lot of their differences were dropped. People saw the best in each other very quickly. We all shared a big Airbnb — think 15-bedroom houses across Europe. We all cooked together, filmed together, and became a very tight-knit family.

DALTON: Seeing as your core colleagues were of a younger age, did you have to deviate from how you usually work?

GAMEAU: Massively, and I thought I had a good handle on it. We obviously made sure that the kids felt very safe. We'd check in every morning. I'd get them together and see how they were all feeling. We built that trust really quickly, but halfway through the first day, I realised that a couple of the kids were only 10 and they just didn't have the capacity in them. There's only a certain amount of takes before they'd get too tired or restless. They were done four hours in, and I scheduled a five to six-hour shoot, so suddenly, I had to rethink the entire schedule because all the things I wanted to do, I realised we weren't going to be able to do. That took a huge rejig, and I was like, 'We need to get a lot of footage of them interacting and playing because we're not going to get it on set.' Thankfully, because we were all living in the houses together — one of the cameramen included — even though it was downtime, we were able to cover that stuff. 

Also, given the subject matter and that we were dealing with really heightened emotions and fear, I had to have a duty of care and a lot of conversations with the parents. Again, it's building trust, which is what any storyteller does when making a documentary. You have to build a rapport with the interviewees to get the best out of 'em and for them to feel like they can be themselves. That's even more heightened when you're working with children.

DALTON: In the film, the kids meet with companies responsible for environmental damage. Their discussions display the infinite formats of activism, as the facts are treated with confrontation, problem-solving, or a seeking of common humanity, depending on the speaker. Did you intend to examine this?

GAMEAU: An awesome, astute question, mate. No, I think it emerged. I've never been a big kick-the-door-down type of activist, but I have enormous respect for those people. And I do think we need all of those voices, so maybe that informed the casting. For instance, Skye [Neville] from Wales had that fire in the belly, while Ruby [Rodgers] was very gentle. I knew we were casting different people, but to see it in a room in real-time is one of the great strengths of the film. The children all bring their own unique take and superpower to the conversation, and that's what we need in the world if we're going to make change. It isn't about one method, which we sometimes get locked into. We can bring different aspects to this conversation.

When you see their talk with Nestlé, it goes quite hard and aggressive, but then some of the kids are like, 'Well, you know what? I actually don't think that's the way we should go. Let's have more humanity. These people do care, and they have kids.' All that stuff was really rich, and I think a lot of adults are getting a lot out of it because you're right; sometimes we think activism has to be one way, but it really isn't. And if we're going to turn this thing around and solve these mega problems we're facing right now, we're not going to do it just by kicking the door down. We need to find ways to collaborate and work together, and get inside these companies that have lots of good people and try to change them from within.

DALTON: This is a documentary, but several moments are inherently cinematic. Your council reacts to animations throughout, in addition to participating in a daydream sequence.

GAMEAU: That's something I love doing. I had lots of animations in That Sugar Film, and there was a constant jump between real-life observational documentary and flash-forward to the future set pieces in 2040. I like playing with the form of documentary so it doesn't have to feel dry, and these days people need to feel there is novelty, that there's something above the normal, and that there's a magical touch. I love trying to find ways to weave that in, particularly the story of [the creature] Groth, who is a metaphor of the system told through a fairy tale. It was a great way to get the kids to understand that we have to see these things as systemically. These emissions aren't separate from plastics in the ocean. They come from the same flawed architecture of a system that we're all inhabiting. So how do you do that without overwhelming them or freaking them out? 

I like that device and all those other little flourishes to show the magic of nature. When they're in the forest and we see them breathe in the particles, it's a little clue to tell the audience that we take forests for granted. Sometimes we go, 'Oh, it's just trees,' but they're not. They're an incredible, magical, interconnected network that's home to all these animals, and they're sending nutrients to each other, and it's the oxygen that we rely on. I think storytelling can sometimes remind us that we look at the world through a banal lens. Stories get to prod us and remind us of the magic that we're amongst every day. I wanted to bring that to this film to remind people that we have externalised nature, we have outsourced it, we've ignored it in the design of our economic system, but it's right there for us. Our survival depends on it, and unless we start to see the magic of it again and reconnect with it, we're not going to make it.

DALTON: In a teary farewell, you state that this enterprise brought out your inner child. In what non-instantly observable ways did it do so?

GAMEAU: Well, I've been in this space for 10 years, and I read so many climate reports and data and science. The stuff is super heavy. It does overwhelm me sometimes. You can get bogged down. You can get a bit serious and lose hope sometimes, and I think the children really cracked me open and said, 'Yeah, it is tough and we've got to be honest about that and sit with it and be real, but if we don't find ways to have fun, then we can't sustain ourselves. We're actually no good to anyone if we're just morose. There are still enormous opportunities for change.' I've seen nature regenerate very quickly. There is still hope if we know where to look for it, and that's what they reminded me to do — make sure you still find gratitude for the things that are here.

One of the boys, Siva [Tuki Grube], loves birds. We're in a forest in Belgium at one point, and he said, 'Look, I know we're looking at these trees, and there are about five birds in there singing. I know that there would've been a thousand birds in these trees 200 years ago. There are only five now, but listen to how beautiful they are. I'm so glad that they're still here.' That floored me. I thought, 'That's it. There is still so much to be grateful for in the world, even though it's so challenging right now.' If we can find that focus and be grateful, then we've got a chance of bringing more people along for the journey, getting them in their hearts, and realising that we can build a better world out of the mess that we're in right now.

DALTON: I could not conceive a better note to wrap up on. Thank you for your time, sir. 

GAMEAU: Great questions, man. Take care.

This article was originally published by SWITCH.