‘Antarctica’ documentary pays homage to ice-dwelling crews

There’s a saying, we learn, among the few women who venture to spend the winter months on scientific research bases in Antarctica, of the possibility of romance there. “The odds are good … but the goods are odd.”

It’s one of many quirky, fascinating observations in Anthony Powell’s “Antarctica: A Year on Ice,” a documentary that’s essentially a tribute to a hardy group of people who’ve made a life on the ice. Powell, a communications technician who’s spent many years working at New Zealand’s Scott Base and the United States’ McMurdo Station in Antarctica, tells us in voice-over that the film was 10 years in the making, and that part of its challenge was modifying cameras to survive the extreme cold.

The outdoor photography, much of it time-lapse, is stunning: vast white oceans of snow; yellow-blue skies whose chill is palpable; charmingly waddling penguins. “There are still places here,” Powell tells us, “where no human has ever set foot,” and where you can experience absolute silence.

But what’s even more interesting is the group of people who populate the region. Powell tells us that there are two seasons in Antarctica: a busy summer, during which most of the scientific research happens, with about 5,000 people in residence – and a “wild, long winter that few people experience,” when the population dwindles to about 700 (whose job is to maintain and repair scientific equipment in preparation for summer). For four months during the winter, the sun does not rise; two months are spent in almost total darkness. No one can come or go after the last plane leaves at summer’s end – “you’re stuck for six months, no way out.”

What happens during those dark days is that a community is formed: We meet some of the cheerful year-rounders, see their stocks of jigsaw puzzles and DVDs, hear them as they dreamily reminisce about fresh produce and hot baths, watch touching footage of Powell’s Antarctica wedding to a fellow year-rounder. And we’re shown the pleasures of being part of a like-minded group who band together to bring light to dark days. The joy of winter in Antarctica, says one, is “being able to work with people who are taking a slightly different path in life.” “Everyone who comes here,” another notes, “has a spirit of adventure.”