'Blackcountry Journal' Ski Film Short Explores Racial Equity

Watch enough ski films and it becomes easy to see the formula behind them. The same arc, similar cast of characters, and style of cinematography. The high fives, gnarly lines, talking heads, and heli shots. Stoke, fear, anticipation, success. While this isn’t necessarily a bad thing, it’s become so ubiquitous that the industry feels like a vacuum. The Blackcountry Journal, a new film by 4FRNT, flips the script.

Instead of pushing the boundaries of big mountain skiing on an epic mission—farther into the Chugach, steeper in the Himalaya, or deeper in Japan—the film does the opposite, weaving together the pillars of backcountry skier Mallory Duncan’s life in artistic and abstract fashion. This is Duncan telling his own story of balancing identities as a pro skier, a Black man from Oakland, and his lifelong connection to jazz.

We sat down with Duncan at a local coffee shop near his home in Bend, OR, to learn more about the film and the story behind it. 

This interview has been edited for clarity.

Men’s Journal: Take us back to the beginning, where did the idea come from?

Mallory Duncan: The original idea was back in the fall of 2020. It was mid-pandemic and I was feeling the impact of the murder of Goerge Floyd and was conflicted and confused about my role in the BLM movement, especially in Bend, a super white city. It was tough times for all of us. I wrote the poem that starts the film in just 45 minutes. It just came out of me and, honestly, it’s one of my favorite things I’ve ever written. At the time, I felt very spotlighted as one of the few Black people in Bend. A few months later I decided to make a film about the poem, but it evolved a lot throughout the process.

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How did you get started and who did you reach out to to collaborate with?

I knew I wanted to push boundaries for what a ski film could be. Less about sending gnarly lines and interviews with voiceovers—[more a] short, impactful film that could be interpreted in many ways. I hit up Pat Elmore, who got into filmmaking through snowboarding, then took a hard right turn to music videos and weird narrative-driven shorts. I wanted to bring his influence to the film. We shot a lot on 16mm film and an old DSLR. It wasn’t the highest quality stuff, but that gave it a new aesthetic we wanted.

As your first film, what were your expectations going in?

I used to rap in college and once made a music video, but let's forget that. I knew almost nothing about the process, but just went for it. I learned a lot about planning, scheduling, and equipment from the process, but I’m glad we did it this way. The best way to figure it out is to just throw yourself in the fire. I never thought the film would get this big, getting into major festivals and with sponsors. Luckily, working with 4FRNT felt natural. Everyone was so supportive of the idea from the start.

It’s very cerebral. How did it evolve while you were shooting and editing?

Initially the film focused on race, because that’s what the poem was. It’s shot in black and white because of that. While race still plays a part, the idea evolved over the years, because I've evolved. I wanted the film to follow my journey as a Black man growing up in the ski industry, trying to connect these identities. At this point, it’s been three years since I wrote the poem. At that time, I was in a period of struggle, now I have a solution. The story follows the arc of my feelings over the last three years, finding my role in skiing and confronting things that have been in the back of my head since I was a kid.

As filming encouraged you to confront these struggles, what revelations did you have?

We wanted to incorporate improvisation into the film. We didn’t script much. When we interviewed Chazz, the jazz musician in the film, we just riffed with him. He told us a story about a young girl learning sheet music before learning to play from the soul, to just jam. He called this, “learning music backwards.” That's a perfect parallel to my relationships with skiing. Ski racing was my whole life. That’s all I did for a decade. Ski racing is sheet music. You become technically good in a very crafted framework. When I stopped racing, I started to learn how to ski from the soul. So, I learned to ski backwards. Today, I see backcountry skiing as a white canvas—a way to express myself.

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As I understand it, you also have a relationship to jazz?  

It’s been a part of me for a long time. I started playing sax in third grade, and since then jazz has been my favorite music to play and listen to. As a kid, every Sunday we’d go to my granddad’s house, have dinner, and he would put on jazz. He passed away when I was in college and I inherited his record collection and record player. While we were shooting the film last winter, we’d go a full week only listening to jazz, so it would passively influence what we shot and how we shot it.

What's the importance of the shooting locations: LA, Bend, and Alaska?

I grew up in Oakland and always need a little city in my life. Both my parents grew up in LA and we spent a lot of time there. LA is diverse and artistically rich, and close to my heart, so shooting there felt important. I also spent a lot of time in the mountains as a kid and was equally influenced by it. I like the juxtaposition between one of the most wild places in the country versus one of the most urban.

What did you learn about your place in the mostly white ski industry?

I’ve always been one of the few Black folks who skis. In high school I struggled with my identity, being one of the few Black people in ski racing. I did all this white shit. I was too white for the Black folks and too Black for the white folks. Just caught in the middle.

I used to not talk about it much because I didn’t want people to think it was the only reason I was sponsored, but I’m over that now. I want to use my platform to benefit other people. I want to invite other Black people into the sport and show them they have a place in this industry, too. I’m taking ownership of this spot instead of acting like it isn’t a thing. A big reason for making this film was to show an expression of skiing that is Black and letting others run with it—a new type of aesthetic, a new way to shoot, and an open door to get in the sport.