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ARTICLE
INTERNATIONAL
journal of
CULTURAL studies
Picturizing science
The science documentary as multimedia spectacle
Introduction
After its initial launch in 1999, the BBC’s Walking with Dinosaurs became
an immediate hit with television audiences around the world, even if this
reinvigorated genre of the natural history documentary drew profound
nor does it imply a victory of form over content or aesthetics over science.
To support my claim, this article proposes a framework for analysing
science documentaries and natural history documentaries in terms of visual
and narrative rhetoric.1 The model typifies the science documentary as a
mixture of narrative modes and (tele)visual styles, the various combinations
of which help construct and sustain a particular claim to knowledge –
propositions of how things are, were, or could be. After applying this model
to Walking with Dinosaurs, a series intended to present a reconstruction of
prehistory, we will turn to another recent documentary series, The Elegant
Universe, and extend the analytical model to the representation of an
abstract and speculative branch of science: theoretical physics. It will be
argued that these documentaries’ truly remarkable feature is less their heavy
use of visual aesthetics and animatronics than their prolonged reliance on
conventional realist effects. Moreover, these analyses aim at disclosing how
visual styles and narrative modes are constitutive, rather than illustrative,
elements in the production of scientific claims to knowledge.
engineers to create moving images out of pixels that look like analogue
video footage. In other words, digital videographics takes analogue video
footage as its benchmark for reality, whereas the truth-claim for video
footage was rooted in its verisimilitude. For producers of science documen-
taries, the use of digital video animations appears to be particularly fruitful
in areas that conventionally resist visualization, such as the very abstract,
remote, or inaccessible. In combination with the speculative mode, pictur-
ization allows visual substantiation of conditional, hypothetical, or even
speculative scientific claims stating ‘this could have happened in the past’
or ‘this is what could happen, if . . .’. This new visual style, in connection
to the speculative mode, again expands the potential of rhetorical strategies
for science documentary producers.
The pictorial effect, though, should be viewed in the context of its
ubiquitous implementation in visual culture; its smooth incorporation into
the science documentary cannot be seen apart from the abundant use of
videographics and digital animation in all sorts of audiovisual genres. The
immense quantity of digitally generated images in Hollywood productions,
from Batman to Jurassic Park, as well as in video games like Lara Croft,
have undoubtedly whetted the appetite and facilitated the acceptance of
videographic embalming in science documentaries. Images are becoming
more artefactual objects and pictures, not replications of the real, and their
accumulation in audio-visual productions has an overwhelming aesthetic
connotation, rather than a truthful or illusionist one (Cubitt, 2004). As digi-
tization enables near-perfect imitation of video footage, the pictorial effect’s
prominence is augmented in relation to the reality effect, the metaphorical
effect, or the fiction effect.
Let me reiterate in a schematic fashion the various styles and narrative
modes we have identified so far.
The upper and lower blocks in the diagram may seemingly ground the
televisual mediation of science in a realist vis-à-vis a fictionalist paradigm
(or, for that matter, the assumed modernist versus postmodernist scheme).
However, none of the visual styles or narrative modes distinguished in this
diagram is intrinsic to one specific type of documentary. Within the realist
paradigm, re-enactments and digital animations are commonly used to back
up specific explanations. Even before the implementation of digital tech-
nologies in science documentaries, producers regularly deployed pictorial
effects and speculative modes to embellish scientific claims. Now that the
speculative mode is taking prominence, science programs effectively incor-
porate elements of the realist paradigm to affirm their documentary status.
In other words, the two halves of this diagram are mutually dependent: it
is the actual combination of styles and modes that helps build powerful
rhetorical claims to knowledge in television documentaries.
The following will illustrate the intricate interweaving of visual styles and
narrative modes when analyzing two examples of recent science documen-
taries. Walking with Dinosaurs takes the reconstructive mode as a point of
departure as it re-animates extinct species from prehistory; The Elegant
Universe assumes the speculative mode to explore the highly abstract and
hypothetical subject matter of ‘string theory’. This layered model is not
aimed at identifying distinctive technical and aesthetic features of these
documentaries as if they intrinsically defined the genre; instead, it offers a
framework for analyzing how these documentaries’ respective claims to
knowledge are constructed through various combinations of narrative
modes and visual styles, thereby using innovative fictional techniques while
heavily relying upon realist conventions.
There are scenes that really are very good science and there are those which
are more speculative, like mating. How on earth will we ever know how
dinosaurs mated? We’re not always showing people stuff that we know is
right, we’re showing people our best guess. (Tim Haines, producer of
Walking with Dinosaurs)
When Walking with Dinosaurs was first aired in 1999, the six-part series
was advertised by the BBC as ‘a window on the lost world’ allowing viewers
to ‘believe they were watching living creatures in their natural habitat’.
Digital animations of the Tyrannosaurus rex, the Optalmosaurus,
Stegosaurus and a number of other prehistoric animals populating planet
earth 65 million years ago, vivified paleontologists’ research by visualizing
their claims on our television screens. Like its sequel Walking with Beasts
(2001), this series popularized a somewhat dusty academic discipline to an
audience substantially younger than the average science documentary
viewer (Scott and White, 2003). The success of Walking with Dinosaurs
was primarily due to its technological production mode – the use of digital
animations and animatronics – cleverly hooking into a new cinematic
tradition established by Steven Spielberg’s Jurassic Park (1993) and The
Lost World (1997). While the BBC adopted some of the visual styles
wielded in these Hollywood blockbusters, it strategically framed the series
as a natural history documentary. The ‘reality effect’ of Walking with
Dinosaurs lies in its ability to make a hypothetical reconstruction from the
past, produced entirely in fictional and pictorial styles, subservient to the
explanatory and expository narrative modes, anchoring animated fiction in
the realist paradigm of science documentary.
Walking with Dinosaurs utilizes three different types of visuals. First,
there is the footage of landscapes, filmed in Chile, California, and New
Caledonia – not because the prehistoric animals presumably lived there, but
because these sceneries resemble the biotope of dinosaurs at the time:
sparsely vegetated steppe without grass. Secondly, there are scenes in which
specially constructed clay models of creatures serve as props in close-up
shots.4 These models are like puppets set in motion by people and machines;
in the editing stage, these props were digitally manipulated to make them
walk, eat, or move ‘correctly’, that is, according to scientific conjectures.
Finally, there are scenes that are generated entirely by digital animatronics.
Animated creatures and filmed models all seamlessly merge with their
‘natural habitat’, blending into a single visual style: the realist style of a
natural history documentary. Enhancing the realist effect are shots marking
the unobtrusive presence of an ‘actual’ camera crew: the camera lens gets
accidentally clouded by a mating dinosaur’s saliva, or gets speckled by water
drops when two animals are fighting.
Undoubtedly the most notable feature confirming Walking with
Dinosaurs’ genre label is its narrative mode of explanation. A neutral, invis-
ible voice-over comments on every scene as if it is taking place in real time,
explaining in the present tense how dinosaurs go about daily acts like
eating, mating, surviving: ‘A young male tries to attract the attention of a
female by walking next to her, but mating can be a dangerous act for the
female Diplodocus.’ As Scott and White (2003: 321) have noticed, the
voice-over impersonates ‘an authoritative commentary by an omniscient
narrator, combining the “objective” discourse of scientific knowledge (facts
and figures) with touches of anthropomorphism’. The voice-over firmly
anchors the series in the narrative mode of explanation, but more than that,
it articulates the reconstructive mode (‘this is what assumedly happened’)
in the typical linguistic features of real-time exposition (‘this is what
happens’). Reconstruction and speculation hide behind an expository sheen
of realistic visuals authenticated by a mixture of voice-over, ‘real-time’
(fabricated) sounds of animals, and background music to accentuate tense
or romantic moments. It is exactly this mixture of scientific reconstruction
and speculative imagination that turns Walking with Dinosaurs into attrac-
tive television, but this very blend also subverts the contract between maker
and viewer as to what the images actually show.
Part of the series’ claim to authentication (or scientific reconstruction) is
made not in the documentary itself, but in the accompanying The Making
of Walking with Dinosaurs series. The meta-documentary recounts how
100 scientists were involved in this monster production. Indeed, the involve-
ment of scientists in television documentaries is nothing new, as scientists’
participation in Hollywood (science) fiction is now the rule rather than the
exception (Frank, 2003). In line with the conventions of the natural history
documentary, no scientist appears on camera in the documentary proper;
yet in The Making of Walking with Dinosaurs, they have ample opportunity
to show off their authority and validate the program’s claim to scientific
truth. Paleontologists explain head-on what evidence they found to substan-
tiate their claims, before properly instructing computer engineers how to go
about ‘animating’ the models. Sometimes the skeletal structures of living
animals, such as elephants, were used to teach engineers and scientists about
the most likely locomotion of prehistoric beasts. But The Making of
Walking with Dinosaurs also reveals that not just paleontologists served to
guarantee the accuracy and veracity of the series’ scientific claims; media
technicians and animation experts were actively engaged in scientific work.
Technicians sometimes refuted accepted knowledge in paleontology because
their models showed a specific locomotion to be impossible. As one scien-
tist comments in the programme, paleontologists actually learned from
animation programmers because they helped them ‘prove’ how the
Diplodocus walked, how it moved its legs and arms, how the animals grazed
and fought. The Making of Walking with Dinosaurs, in addition to illus-
trating how the series was made, also shows how science is made: tech-
nicians help scientists establish their claims by using the very tools that turn
them into attractive spectacle.
What makes this meta-documentary so important, in my view, is the
observation that its prominent visual style (animation) is no longer used as
an illustration, but that computer graphics are an integral part of construct-
ing science – an observation made earlier by social constructivists and
philosophers of science (Latour, 1990; Lynch and Woolgar, 1990). Models
and representations visually melting into a seamless whole demonstrate how
scientific claims are intrinsically dependent upon their visualizations.
Computer animations are concurrently instruments of mediating and
constructing science. The pictorial effect, serving to ‘authenticate’ the real-
istic effect, is part of the scientific process, which is at the same time and
by the same means a creative process to turn science into television. Visu-
alization and scientific argumentation are mutually contingent. As this series
seems to sustain, digital ‘picturization’ is not just an effect but a constitu-
tive tool of science. Meanwhile, the series Walking with Dinosaurs derives
The decision to use animation, to use a lot of it, was completely essential to
the process, because when you’re doing that project about string theory, when
you’re talking about things that really cannot be seen, that can only be
imagined, I don’t know any other way to do it than through metaphor and
animation. (Paula S. Apseil, senior executive producer of The Elegant
Universe)
A similar blend of realist claims to scientific truth and animated visual
aesthetics can be traced in a science programme that is primarily informed
by the speculative mode. The Elegant Universe, a three-part documentary
series aired by PBS in 2003, manages to make a very difficult, highly
abstract and hypothetical subject from the field of theoretical physics imag-
inable to laypersons. The world of string theory – ‘a world stranger than
science fiction’ according to the PBS announcement – conjectures a
reconciliation of Isaac Newton’s laws of gravity, Albert Einstein’s discover-
ies on relativity, Niels Bohr’s findings in quantum mechanics, and James
Maxwell’s mathematical equations describing electro-magnetism into a
unified ‘theory of everything’. String physicists assume the existence of a
subatomic level where ‘strings’, entities smaller than particles or quarks,
generate a variety of shapes, from black holes to membranes. An import-
ant tenet of string theory is the existence of not 4, but 11 dimensions –
dimensions that we cannot see or even make visible – and a possible infinite
number of parallel universes. It claims to bring together the divergent sets
of laws formulated by famous physicists, and also prophesies a coherent
explanation for all manifestations of matter now and in the future. As Brian
Greene, physicist at Columbia University and host of The Elegant Universe
suggests, questions of philosophy or religion may soon become questions of
physics. String theorists’ hypotheses are, not surprisingly, fiercely disputed
amongst scientists, but how does this television documentary render their
claims plausible and even likely?
The overwhelming use of digital animation and videographics in this
series is partly responsible for a persuasive presentation of a contentious
theory, but its scientific claims are ultimately validated by the explanatory
After recapturing Einstein’s discovery of how space can stretch and warp,
host Brian Greene explains how string theory can also account for space
being ‘ripped apart’ so that an extra dimension becomes feasible. A proven
theory is thus equated with a current hypothesis, and subsequently stitched
onto a prediction of future implications. ‘Can you walk on the Mount
Everest, eat a baguette in Paris, and still be back in New York on time for
your morning meeting?’ Greene ponders, while his movements are smoothly
sealed onto morphing backdrops. Past, present, and future – proven
theories, hypothetical claims, and speculation – all blend into the visual style
of an animated universe, where the differences between realism, fiction, and
science fiction appear virtually obsolete.
The Elegant Universe presents a multimedia spectacle which magically
turns hypothesis into feasibility, and speculation into proven claim. But does
the science represented in this documentary still pertain to questions of truth
and falsehood or, perhaps more relevant here, to representational criteria of
fact or fiction? Several detractors interviewed for the programme point out
the weakness of string theory: even if this theory will prove to be mathe-
matically sound, it can never be put to a test. Indeed, the programme’s host
Brian Greene admits that ‘testing’ string theory is impossible; even the giant
atom smashers, currently being built by Fermilab in Texas and by CERN
in Switzerland, will at best deliver circumstantial evidence for the existence
of strings, sparticles, or gravitons. And yet, throughout the program, Greene
subjects the laws of physics, along with the assumptions of string theory, to
‘experiments’ in virtual reality, executed in digital architecture. For instance,
when he wants to show how the laws of electromagnetism interfere with
the laws of gravity, Greene is filmed jumping from a tall building but magi-
cally landing on his two feet. This animated scene is, of course, an imita-
tion of a made-in-Hollywood Batman leap, constructed in such a style that
even if you don’t believe in the existence of flying human bats, you have to
admire the reality-effect caused by its visual artifice.
In the two-dimensional world of film and multimedia, the 11 dimensions
of string theory can at least be turned into a visual reality – a universe that
is governed by the rules of animation but subjected to the laws of verisimili-
tude and realism. Ultimately, the answer to the million-dollar question,
posed at the end of the series – ‘Can string theory be wrong?’ – is as simple
as it is revealing. Brian Greene philosophizes that so much of string theory
makes sense, ‘it has got to be right’, and his judgement is supported by
Nobel-prize-winning physicist Steven Weinberg, saying: ‘I find it hard to
believe that that much elegance and mathematical beauty would simply be
wasted.’ Ordinary viewers, overwhelmed by three hours of digital videog-
raphy, may find it hard to believe that the sophistication and elegance of
this multimedia spectacle would be wasted. Qualifications of verification
and trustworthiness are subtly replaced by qualifications of aesthetics and
persuasiveness.
And yet, despite its visual fireworks and aesthetic overload, the documen-
tary astonishingly relies on the authority of voice(-over) and words to
establish the trustworthiness of its claims. Like Walking with Dinosaurs, The
Elegant Universe includes reenactments and animations to ‘picturize’
scientific theory that is otherwise too abstract to be understood by non-
physicists. In addition, the speculative mode accounts for playful visual tricks
borrowed directly from fiction to enhance the documentary’s metaphorical
and pictorial effects. But it is the distinguished commentary and appearance
of physicist Brian Greene (supported by a large number of authorities in the
field) who, at all times, subjects the artificiality of images to the ‘authenticity’
of his words, much like the neutral voice-over in Walking with Dinosaurs
takes command of the animated pictures of conjectured prehistoric beasts.
Even if visual spectacle seems at times to overwhelm the rational content of
the science presented, it is in fact the rhetorical choreography of carefully
intertwined narrative modes and visual styles that ultimately grounds both
documentaries in a conventional realist paradigm. The authority and trust-
worthiness of its proposed scientific claims are ultimately contingent upon
the reality effect created by the documentary’s producers.
In the previous section, I explained how Walking with Dinosaurs, rather
than being a popularized version of paleontology, actually helped construct
its scientific claims – an observation that becomes particularly manifest in
The Making of Walking with Dinosaurs episode. Along similar lines, the
makers of The Elegant Universe, in the bonus material added to the DVD
version, comment on the crucial function of animatronics to the construc-
tion of string theory. Without the possibilities of computer animation there
would have been no documentary, but there also would have been no
theory: computer graphics enable scientists to imagine the possible shapes
the ‘materialist world’ can assume. In The Making of Walking with
Dinosaurs, producer Paula Apseil explains how the scientific claims of
string theory are contingent on new modes of visualization: ‘We could not
have told the story of string theory and we could not have visualized all the
aspects of the universe which string theory says could be true, if we would
not have used animation.’ For instance, the contention of string theorists
that the ‘big bang’ was not the beginning of evolution, and therefore that
history or space has no beginning or ending, is perfectly in tune with the
notion that visual images in this series lack an original in the real world.
Computers and multimedia environments have turned the world of science
into a large database of digital images, a database in which the footage does
not bespeak an original in the empirical world. Past, present, and future
claims are all ‘pictorial input’ ready for morphing: Einstein’s historical life
and ideas evolve into Brian Greene’s projected existence into parallel
universes. In fact, the multimedia representation of string theory does not
illustrate but enables its claims; it not only helps visualize, but to some
extent substantiates its hypotheses.
Conclusion
and representation, between scientific object and active agent, and between
science and culture. Latour’s argument that ‘we have never been modern’
also applies to the science documentary: there has never been a purely
‘realist’ paradigm in science programming.
Arguing from a somewhat different angle, John Corner (2002: 266) has
launched the term ‘postdocumentary’, not to proclaim the end of documen-
tary as a truthful cultural form, but to signal ‘its relocation as a set of prac-
tices, forms, and functions.’ He argues that the legacy of documentary is
still at work in current styles of televisuality, reaffirming the realist contract
between viewers and makers but concurrently subverting it in favour of
innovative claims to knowledge. Since digital technologies are changing our
ontological relationship with the image (Manovich, 2001), we need a more
refined analytical armamentarium to discuss the intrinsically mediated
construction of scientific knowledge. The model proposed in this article
provides such analytical tool, allowing viewers to recognize the construct-
edness of documentary texts. And yet, it is not enough to identify the
construction of documentaries; it is even more important to understand
how science and documentary are mutually contingent and interdependent
constructions of scientific claims.
Science documentaries never served as mere illustrations of what ‘science
is’ or ‘how it works’. The documentary’s status as a ‘popularization’ or an
‘illustration’ was taken for granted, but like any imaging tool used by
scientists, television is equally instrumental to the construction, dissemi-
nation, and (dis)approval of its often hypothetical claims. The popularity
of scientific claims is inevitably defined by the available technology and
preferred aesthetics of contemporary media – media that enabled the
construction of these claims in the first place. From Galileo’s telescope to
Etienne-Jules Marey’s stereoscope, tools of visualization have moved easily
between scientific investigation and entertainment (Hankins and Silverman,
1995; Topper, 1996). Therefore, I propose to consider science documen-
taries as a form of ‘visual thinking’ or of ‘picturizing science’. We do not
illustrate science with images, we construct images and deploy media tech-
nologies to ‘think’ science (Burnett, 2004). Computer graphics and anima-
tronics are to 21st century physicists and paleontologists what the
microscope was to 19th century biologists: new instruments allowing for
new claims, but also for a retooling of the imagination. Animated dinosaurs
and virtual parallel universes are not illustrations of science – they are part
of science in action.
Rather than lament the current effacement of science documentary’s
realism, we need to develop analytic models and tools that help clarify how
science and science documentaries shape our world in tandem. Computers
and digitization are certainly not a radical break with previous scientific
practices which were always also mediated practices: the success of scien-
tific claims often depended on the success of their visualizations. Analysis
Acknowledgement
Notes
1 This article will refer to the natural history documentary as a special subgenre
of the science documentary. Even though many relevant comments can be
made about the distinctions between these two, these differences are beyond
the scope of the main argument here.
2 I use the term ‘narrative mode’ to indicate that every science documentary –
or every television programme for that matter – tells a story about science
using a particular strategy, both in terms of rhetoric and in terms of aesthet-
ics. By ‘(tele)visual styles’ I mean the effects created by using a specific type
of image or image processing in relation to the truth-claim implied by that
choice. For instance, a realist effect is an effect that is implicitly ascribed to
unedited, unaltered video footage. Naturally, moving images of whatever
technological basis are always intrinsically contrived, but visual styles have
gradually come to connote particular effects.
3 In 1988, the ABC Evening News, for instance, used a re-enactment to recon-
struct how an American spy had probably managed to steal secret infor-
mation from a government building. For a detailed analysis of news
documentary, see Beattie (2004), chapter 9.
4 Construction of animated dinosaurs is a painstaking process, as we can read
on the website (http://www.bbc.co.uk/dinosaurs/tv_series/making_of.shtml):
‘Not every dinosaur image was computer-generated; many of the close-up
shots used animated models. This is because whilst computer graphics are
good, they are better for long distance shots. Animatronics are more realis-
tic in close up work, such as when a dinosaur is eating or drinking. Initial
models are made in clay, then a series of inverse moulds are made from which
the final product is produced. Textured skins are stuck on top and painted,
using a “plasticised” paint to allow for movement. Mounts are added for
handholds plus motors to operate the nostrils, eyes or other body parts.’
5 A large number of highly esteemed physicists appear in this programme. First,
there are the ‘grand old men’ of string theory: John Schwarz, Michael Greene,
and Ed Witten. Secondly, a number of authorities in various subdisciplines of
physics comment in this program, including Walter G. Lewin (MIT), Steven
Weinberg (Universty of Texas), Peter Galison (Harvard University), Alan
Guth (MIT), Joseph Polchinski (UC Santa Barbara), S. James Gates
(University of Maryland), and Michael Dugg (University of Chicago).
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