Waves of Grace review: prayer as narration

Many short 360 video documentaries break the old “show, don’t tell” principle by deploying extensive voice-over narration. In the case of Waves of Grace, which was co-directed by Gabo Arora and Chris Milk, the voice-over isn’t the “voice of God” style common in documentaries but a voice to God. The narration takes the form of a pathos-filled prayer delivered by its subject, Decontee Davis, which provides backstory information and emotional texture. The narrator’s soft and plaintive voice imbues the experience with religious elements and a profound ruminative quality.

The experience runs for just shy of 10 minutes and was released early in the present era of VR, circa 2015. It’s based in Liberia and follows Davis, who survived what introductory text describes as “currently the largest Ebola epidemic in history,” beginning in West Africa in December 2013.

The first immersion positions us on a large and mostly empty beach. A luminous glowing sun hangs above the ocean, waves rolling gently into the shore while Davis walks along the edge of the water and the narration begins. “Dear Lord, thank you for your healing grace,” she says, asking for assistance to “do the walk you have purposed me to do” and for god to “please, heal this land (and) close these deep wounds.”

The narration is vague, but sets an emotional context. It becomes more specific in the next scene, which draws a direct connection between words spoken and what the tableau around us depicts. We’re positioned in a central space in a colourful food market, with yellow and green vegetables nearby and market vendors to our left and right. The narration continues: “And by your grace things are getting better. It is starting to resemble the old life we live again. The markets are reopening.” We’re then taken to a cheaply built school classroom where dozens of young kids are huddled together (“the children are going back to school,” David declares). 

The remainder of Waves of Grace follows the pattern established in these early immersions, with the narrator communicating aspects of social progress and imparting more information about her personal journey, as somebody diagnosed with Ebola. Other locations include a hospital room, where a sick young boy is lying in bed; a rubbish-strewn beach; a church, where worshippers sing and dance; and a confronting environment with people in chemical protection clothing placing a corpse in a newly dug hole.

The visuals maintain what in cinematic terms is called a verité style, emphasising realism and naturalism, taking us to actual places unadorned by visual embellishments. The narration however isn’t unadorned at all: it’s emotive and literary, presented from a subjective viewpoint and flowing with evocative language.

Timewise this production belongs to a period when filmmakers migrated to VR and brought them with the grammar and syntax of the cinematic medium, porting over expecting filmmaking conventions rather than reinventing the wheel. You would hardly describe Waves of Grace as an outstanding example of traditional filmmaking, or VR content creation—but its unusual narration does resonate, giving the experience a point of difference.