There’s a little edge, a little attitude, a little style to Fire of Love that separates it from other documentaries tackling similar subjects. From the crunchy punk guitars that launch the film to Miranda July’s laconic, dangling-cigarette narration, the film—directed by Sara Dosa—takes an oblique approach to tracing the life and careers of married volcanologists Katia and Maurice Krafft. Which makes sense, because the Kraffts appeared to take an oblique angle on everything they did, while still managing to be pioneers in their field. Fire of Love is largely an achievement of editing, as the film primarily consists of archival footage either of the Kraffts or taken by Maurice as the couple crept ever-closer to the volcanoes that so fascinated them. (Immersive and hypnotic, with molten flows cutting across the screen, Maurice’s images function as both scientific data and experimental cinema.) Working with editors Erin Casper and Jocelyne Chapu, Dosa arranges this material (adding witty little animated flourishes) in a way that balances the intimacy of two people in love, doing something they love, and the immensity of natural phenomena that are ages in the making yet can wipe out a civilization in mere minutes. As in the nature documentaries of Werner Herzog, there is grandeur and servility to be found here. Like the Kraffts, Fire of Love demonstrates a brazen humility.
(11/22/2022)
