Written by Andreas Babiolakis

Throughout the awards season, we’ll get around to some much-discussed films that we didn’t previously review.

Werner Herzog’s Grizzly Man followed Timothy Treadwell via his countless hours of footage of him interacting — and ultimately living amongst — the grizzly bears of the north. He unfortunately was killed by a bear in the process when he was forced to go against his usual methods by local park officials (he knew how to deal with grizzlies the best, and going against his better judgment proved to be fatal). Herzog was granted access to the tape containing Treadwell’s death by his next of kin, and Herzog vowed to hang on to the tape to ensure it never saw the light of day. It’s bad enough that his legacy was fabricated: he was sold as some idiot that fucked around with bears and found out the hard way not to, when his life was much more sound than this. Enter Fire of Love: quite a similar film where director Sara Dosa plays the role of Herzog in acting as the cinematic higher power with the capability to exonerate those whose death has been bastardized by hearsay curiosity.

Dosa’s film involves married couple Katia and Maurice Krafft: volcanologists whose extensive video research on volcanoes paved the way for scientists for decades to come. The film details how the two spirits found each other, and how Katia inspired Maurice to follow her passions. In most instances, should your newest partner ask you to get super close to active volcanoes with them, you’d likely run for the hills. Not Maurice, however; and thus, this romance was meant to be. As these two bonded, they discovered more about volcanoes together, and their hobby became somewhat of an obsession: the kind that blazed a trail for any that would follow. In the same way that Treadwell wanted to dispel stigmas surrounding bears, the Kraffts sought to educate the world on volcanoes and volcanic activities whilst proving why they loved these phenomena so much. While Fire of Love is a retelling of a real couple and their unique leisure, it is also incredibly insightful and acts as a learning tool in exactly the kind of way that the Kraffts would have wanted, and Dosa’s documentary makes sure to let their messages be heard first and foremost.

Piecing together what we can see with some fitting narration is Miranda July: a director in her own right who knows exactly what a film calls for. She simply provides context for what we see on screen while never trying to upstage the footage (or sound completely uninterested either). What we can see is simply breathtaking: not only were the Kraffts experts at volcanoes, they were also masters of photography and videography. Every single shot is well captured, stunning, and a vantage point that most of us would never dare to have in our lives. This phenomenal footage makes for easy work for Dosa and company because they have an entire well of cinematographical brilliance to work with. It’s easy to see why National Geographic would get behind this film as well, not just because of the subject matter but because of how enriching it is for global enthusiasts.

As was forewarned, the Kraffts died during the Mount Unzen eruption of 1991, and their surviving footage is included in this film. All of Fire of Love builds up to this moment, preparing us for the devastation of a life sparked by love (between two partners and with nature’s most explosive tendencies) and ends as quickly as it began. Fire of Love is tasteful with how it depicts their passing, particularly because it focuses on their volcanic footage as much as possible (even during the end of their lives); it’s likely what the Kraffts would have wanted. Furthermore, like Herzog and Grizzly Man, Fire of Love sets a backstory to enlighten us how this could have happened, letting us know that there was never an ounce of irresponsibility in this disaster.

Strong documentaries come and go (and 2022 has had its fair share of great ones), and still Fire of Love stands amongst the best in recent memory. Not many documentaries feel this alive, this connected to its subjects, this engaging, or this nostalgic without crumbling from over indulgence in any of these areas. This is a congruent mixture that results in a film that flows like a bed of lava coursing through a bed below. Fire of Love is electrifying because it allows the joys and enthusiasm of its impassioned subjects to lead the way; they knew what they were doing this whole time. Even if you have zero interest in seeing a couple call in love or in the study of geological sciences, Fire of Love is going to pull you in and never let go. It doesn’t even feel like a documentary at times: it resembles the inner speeches of a couple that only ever needed each other, in their favourite environment whose rumbling noise would drown out their sweet nothings. Fire of Love is tenderly assembled, full of purpose, and a radiating experience that has to be seen to be believed.

Andreas Babiolakis has a Masters degree in Film and Photography Preservation and Collections Management from Toronto Metropolitan University, as well as a Bachelors degree in Cinema Studies from York University. His favourite times of year are the Criterion Collection flash sales and the annual Toronto International Film Festival.