What legacy do we want to leave for ourselves and those closest to us, even as risk factors rear their ugly head? Some may say it should be profound, others vindicating, and the rest preferably selfless. A personal goal once shared with a loved one and with danger as a bedfellow may be the least selfless concept imaginable. But a unique beauty can still be found in accomplishing it as an affirmation of the self and whom they loved. Jimmy Chin and Elizabeth Chai Vasarhelyi delicately navigate that moral balancing act, wearing guilt goggles to the top of the world in Everest: The Other Side.
The duo, best known for impactful, personal works such as Free Solo, Love + War, and the narrative biopic Nyad, aim for their most personal, narrowly avoiding a conflict of interest with this portrait of Jim Morrison and Hilaree Nelson, ski-mountaineers with a wild history. Jim was finding purpose again after his previous wife and two children died in a freak accident, while Hilaree was mourning her own marriage’s natural end, kicking the tires one more time for any signs of life. Finding each other would refuel their skills as domestic partners, parents, and colleagues in the heights of nature. And inevitably lead to a massive shared goal: scale Everest’s north face and ski it back down.
We first meet them after a massive victory descending Lhotse in 2018, and realize they have the chops to take on the big kahuna. When COVID restrictions settle in Nepal, the couple are ready to start training for an autumnal climb. But tragedy then strikes when an avalanche consumes Hilaree. With Jimmy and Elizabeth lending a sympathetic ear (and camera lens), Jim bravely (or foolishly) decides to make the trek anyway, with Jimmy agreeing to co-pilot and aid in capturing the mechanics, gutsiness, and team-oriented dynamics of what amounts to none more than a singular mission shared among many who can certainly align with a mountaineer’s enthusiasm. They, along with the audience, may not fully distinguish the individual from the depth of his sacrifice, or how extreme it would get.
Chin, with Vasarhelyi’s input from afar, is no fool for trying to stay somewhat impartial to the journey. His level of involvement would make anyone in his position less a discerning director and more a friend, ally, cautious observer living for his own adrenaline high, and finally, a DP/videographer while climbing. That doesn’t make this trek up Everest free of ethical scrutiny, with questions surfacing about why a single parent would be so determined as to risk his children fending for themselves, or why common sense hadn’t entirely taken over in the face of grief.
Those concerns are tough to shake with Morrison, even as Chin downplays that momentary recklessness. It paints a stark picture when his sons share neither the enthusiasm nor the bravery for mountain sports. Thankfully, that isn’t enough to negate what this film gets right. And that is the dizzying visual palette he, alongside fellow lead cinematographers Clair Popkin and Christopher Murphy (and many others on the field), creates and confronts head-on. One might imagine how much deeper those wide shots, heady closeups, and in-your-face avalanche drops would be if shot with IMAX equipment. The rampant drone-cam use might be the most questionable, if only because of physics limitations, but they still earn a fair impact.
Chin’s prowess as a documentarian is as sharp and sympathetic as on Free Solo‘s soul-digging depth. While embracing dangerous conditions like a playground for the strong-willed, it takes a literal turn, narrowly avoiding the topics of cultural divide or social media vanity – one might turn to The Last First: Winter K2 for a more transparent take on the clash between Sherpas and climbers, and why some goals may need to be reshaped. Everest is only as conquerable as it is through Morrison’s eye for closure and a team-first emphasis throughout the rest of his career, putting their own lives on hold, accepting the risk factors themselves. One climber is prepping for a wedding, another with a newborn, and a loyal sherpa with stamina to spare worries his supportive family with every gig. And yet, they believe in the thrill too much to heed any warning, hardly uncaring, trusting their mandate to make it back home and not lose sight of what awaits as a non-negotiable tenet.
This vertical elevation trial stays somewhat grounded, stirringly solemn, never jumping the gun on tempo or structure, with Chin’s editors Bob Eisenhardt and Simona Ferrari stitching the reasoning for Morrison’s anguish and pluck as checkpoints where clarity cracks open with the air thinning and the clock running short, and never all at once. For those who’ll balk at Morrison’s galavanting and perceive it as an impulsive itch to close one chapter and (lightly) foretell the next, it’s not an inaccurate take. A devout optimist, meanwhile, will claim his heart’s still in the right place, despite an absence of sensible forethought. Thank goodness for the lucrative sponsorship supporting every breathtaking move.
Jim Morrison may not inspire many, shirking essential responsibilities for a shared passion. But the things we do for our projects, when shared with a loved one, are likely what allow us those flights of fancy. Strictly within reason (though not always), and especially if it means a blank slate, that we get to enjoy a calm, sensible existence after climbing down. So far, that seems to be true, with the subject currently focusing more on his business portfolio.
The unfinished business around Everest: The Other Side is an admirable sort, teetering between lamentation and climbing as a love-language by which to remember and honor; and when viewed on a large screen (IMAX is preferable), the journey is one to behold right through the easy-to-guess, white-knuckle outcome, hardly flinching through the freezingly bitter pain. It might not be among the year’s finest documentaries, but Chin is not too worried. Owing to its firm construction, steady discipline, and admittedly slanted take on familial hardship, he still justifies the incline, risking life, limb, and mental resolve with every inch. In some indirect way, Warren Miller would nod in approval.