how I had come across a group of Native Americans taking on a large energy corporation in Scotland. The tribes fight for their river, for their culture, against four hydroelectric dams. It really is an
not just for the salmon that the tribes rely on.
Back in 2005, we made a first visit to their homelands in far Northern California. Like most Europeans, I had never visited an ?Indian reservation?. We were invited to attend the annual World Renewal Ceremonies of the Karuk and Hoopa tribes, and on our arrival, we suddenly became aware that access to the tribes wasn?t as easy as it first had seemed. The tribal members are very careful not to have their culture ?exploited?, and any recording of the ceremonies is strictly prohibited. Apparently, National Geographic always gets turned down when they enquire about filming the dances. One of the Karuk ceremonial leaders pointed to our camera: ?Last time a camera this big showed up here, it ended up in the river.?

We soon realized that we had to find a rather difficult balance between making a film and protecting what?s so precious to the tribes. Attending the sacred dances without a camera helped us gain trust from the tribal communities, but more importantly, it gave us an idea of the spiritual power that makes these ceremonies so unique. We learned to understand the need for the ceremonies to be protected. Still, we wanted to give our audience an idea of the incredible atmosphere and an understanding why this culture needs to be protected. Thankfully, one year later, Ron Reed (pictured right) and his brothers invited us to film their War Dance, a rather informal but still impressive family event, fragments of which can be seen in
Upstream Battle.
There are many more stakeholders around the Klamath River. Commercial fishermen fight for their share of the salmon, irrigators fight for water, and the energy utility fights for cheap, reliable electricity. But how could we possibly convince the managers to come on board?
I recalled a Dutch documentary I saw back in 1999 at IDFA in Amsterdam. I was very impressed with the way
Een Geschenk uit de Hemel told the story of the Brent Spar controversy from the perspectives of both Greenpeace and Shell Oil, mainly in retrospect. Now, if we could do something similar, but actually be there when things are happening on both sides...

Yet, why should any corporation agree to be part of a film which, in the managers' eyes, is likely to portray them as ?the bad guys?? PacifiCorp, operators of the Klamath Hydroelectric Project and at the time a U.S. subsidiary of ScottishPower, started to realize that it was better for them to participate than to remain an anonymous facade. So we met with the managers, they requested previous films as well as contact details for former protagonists as a reference. I hadn't come across such a request before, but I happily referred PacifiCorp to a
U.K. Member of Parliament, to an
"Alternative Nobel Prize" laureate, and to a
former double agent.
Finally, we got permission to shoot inside the company's headquarters in Portland, Oregon, as well as at all the dams and powerhouses. It has to be noted that there is a strange similarity between utility managers and tribal members: they both knew exactly what they would say or do in front of a camera -- and what they wouldn?t.
There was a period of silence following the sale of PacifiCorp from ScottishPower to Warren Buffett, but eventually, the corporation opened up again. Finally, in 2007, we followed Hoopa tribal member Merv George who towed his redwood dugout canoe across America, on a mission to confront the new owner of the dams: the second-richest man in the United States back then, now the richest in the world. Buffett's investment company gave us limited access to their annual ?Woodstock for Capitalists?. In a way, they had to. One of their shareholders had given us a spare pass to the meeting.