Words Paul Tierney Photography Ian Derry

Published in No 17

On a bright spring English morning all appears well in Ian Derry’s world. Amber sunshine filters through the windows of his south London home, warming a dog flaked-out from an early morning walk. News came through yesterday that his directorial debut, Hold Your Breath: The Ice Dive, has been nominated for both a BAFTA and an Emmy. Obviously, the newly celebrated filmmaker rose at dawn, unable to sleep with excitement. “You might say things are going smoothly,” he deadpans, clearly delighted.

The film is all kinds of wonderful but somewhat difficult to define. In essence, Derry follows the Finnish freediver Johanna Nordblad in her quest to break the world record for swimming under ice — something that requires her to hold her breath for an incomprehensible 228 ft /103 meters. In an intellectual sense, let’s call it a meditative essay on fortitude in the face of physical exertion. So far, so compelling. But what sets the documentary apart — and let’s be clear, this is more than a portrait of stamina — is its sheer unadulterated beauty. Nature is the star here, and it’s ready for its close-up.

“I’ve been to many places in the world,” muses Derry “I’ve filmed in deserts, big cities, all types of landscape, but I don’t think I’ve ever been stunned by something quite as much as I was with that lake in Finland. I wasn’t really prepared for what I was looking at — this most beautiful, beautiful scene; this pristine thing.”

 Lake Öllöri lies in the barren north of Finland, close to the border with Russia, where towns are few and land spreads for miles uninterrupted by urban blight. “It was minus 20°, so everything was beautifully frozen. Even the water on your eyelashes freezes. The thing that struck me most was the sound. When you live in London, it’s never ever quiet. When I arrived at the lake, all I could hear was myself. There was no other ambient noise, nothing. Absolute silence.”

To capture such serenity, drones were launched high above the dive site. From this oblique birds-eye view, the triangular escape holes hacked into the ice look like ancient symbols of language, the tips of pine trees almost abstract virus cells. “There is a surreal quality to some of the photography,” he agrees. “That shot above the trees — such a beautiful, brilliant perspective — has been copied many times since we did it. It got ripped off by Chris Hemsworth’s Limitless, and also at the beginning of the last Bond movie too, much to my frustration. I think it was the year The Revenant had come out. I love that film. I remember thinking — and not in a big-headed way — that it looked equally as cinematic. As a visual observation, it simply took my breath away.”

Without irony, the term ‘breathtaking’ takes many forms in this most compelling of stories. Nature aside, the narrative focus is of course on Johanna Nordblad, a former dirt bike racer and all-round thrill seeker who captivates the audience with the audacity of her goal. In 2010, after breaking a leg in a riding accident, the unbearable pain from nerve damage drove her to explore therapeutic cold treatment. This ultimately led to the improbable act of diving beneath ice, something which not only dissipated the pain but opened up another world entirely. “The ice hole is a bit like a gateway to a beautiful, quiet place,” she says in the film. “Time stands still.” For Nordblad, being underwater is the opposite of emptiness. “For her, underwater is the ultimate fulfilment,” says Derry. “It’s where she feels at home. That’s her happy place.”

The director has described Nordblad as an artist. “She definitely has artistic elegance. The way she moves under the water is just a very poetic gesture. Without over-egging it, it’s almost a mammalian thing, like a dolphin. I’ve only been underwater with one other person like that, a French freediver called Guillaume Néry. Something in the way he moves goes beyond human life form. There’s something aquatic about it, which is hard to explain. You need to see it with your own eyes, and I’ve never seen anybody move underwater like those two.”

Beyond the languid ballet of movement, what’s most striking about this film is the translucent energy of the underwater shots — the way the light looks through the ice, the clarity of the water. “I’ve been under there a few times myself and it’s so incredibly pure. But to my mind, I think the most beautiful shot is the one where she just slips into the water in her swimsuit. There’s no hesitation, just a commitment to the act.”

Derry cites The Big Blue as one of his favourite cinematic moments, and there’s a similar immersive beauty to Hold Your Breath. What did he want the audience to take away with them? "I never consciously thought about it, but I knew I wanted to inspire people. We’d all been through a lot of shit with Covid, we’d all suffered. It’s a film about hope. If you want to try something, try it. It might be possible, it might not. But If you don’t try you’ll never know.”

Hope springs eternal, but nonetheless remains a concept. The physical act of holding your breath for so long, and in such desperately severe conditions, is a mystery most of us will never unravel. It begs the question: how on earth is this possible? In her typically Finnish, matter-of-fact manner, Nordblad brushes off suggestions she is somehow beyond human. The inference is, you’re never cold, you’re just not dressed properly. In reality, plunged into the icy abyss, her all too human metabolism reacts to this vicious extremity by hitting the panic button. The heart beats at a torpid pace, the brain explodes with neurological trauma. Cardiac arrest is a very real prospect. Yet something divine and intangible drives her to victory.

For all its visual punch and themes of limitless human endeavour, there’s a philosophical undertow at play to this tale which speaks to us all. “I think Johanna says at one point, ‘If you push your boundaries they become your new reality.’ Which pretty much sums it up. She’s swimming against the tide. And winning.”

Photographs courtesy of Ian Derry. ianderry.com

Paul Tierney is an arts, culture and travel journalist, writing for W Magazine, The Guardian, El Pais and The Independent. @paultierneysees & paultierneywrites.com