FIPADOC 2025: Rave On for the Avon (dir. Charlotte Sawyer) | Review
In Rave On for the Avon, Charlotte Sawyer follows activists and river lovers through their ups and downs, joys and sorrows. Borrowing a charming lightness, the film succeeds in raising awareness of the issues surrounding clean rivers.
Selected in the Impact section of FIPADOC 2025, Rave On for the Avon tells the story of a community of whitewater swimmers in Bristol (UK), affected by the pollution of the River Avon from untreated sewage.
Through the seasons, British director Charlotte Sawyer portrays the central and unifying role of the River Avon. For the community, going there is a social, entertaining, therapeutic, and sporting experience—in summer and winter alike. As shown by the humorous reappropriation of the no-swimming sign, the gentle and comic acts of vandalism reveal the importance of the river in the daily life of the community.
Moreover, the documentary brings together a wide range of testimonials, demonstrating the varied motivations of the river’s visitors. Among them: moved to tears by the healing effect of the river, a swimmer suffering from anxiety disorders and PTSD testifies; some speak of the positive impact the river had on mental health during the Covid-19 crisis; others mention the invigorating side of swimming in winter.
Even today, England is one of only two countries in the world to have a fully privatized water supply and wastewater disposal system. With only 14% of English rivers in good ecological health, the mission of keeping rivers clean is not going well.
Therefore, the film highlights the importance of cleaning them up. While the water in the River Avon is not ecologically dangerous, it is harmful to human health. Even today, river users take the risk of getting sick in order to enjoy it, as one young woman confides when her boyfriend was frighteningly ill; and yet, that doesn’t stop her from enjoying the river.
Charlotte Sawyer never shows what’s going on underwater, as if it were a restricted and inaccessible zone. In a touching sequence showing a mother and daughter, the young child recounts how she loves swimming in the Avon but hates the bad things she feels at the bottom of the water but cannot see. The underwater is only unveiled once, when Lindsey, the mermaid who works with children to raise awareness of the river’s protection, takes a dip in it. To avoid the risks, the group of young activists regularly test pollutant levels, alerting river users and public authorities alike.
Although everyone has their own motivations, we feel the sense of community that the river generates. In the case of the River Avon, the community is mobilizing en masse to improve its access. A bench and steps have been installed by users on their own. All that is missing is the legal backing of the authorities to clean up the river. Unfortunately, as the film shows, the town is unwilling to act as guarantor. The activists’ long struggle seems in vain.
Despite the seriousness of the issue addressed by the documentary, Charlotte Sawyer manages to wrap it in a certain lightness. Yet the message retains its powerful impact; the film is funny, joyful, not miserabilistic.
Furthermore, the documentary’s photography serves the film’s purpose. On several occasions, a drone details the region’s verdant wilderness. These magnificent filmed images accentuate the desire to protect it. Moreover, with their deadpan humor, the touching characters’ laudable battle immediately wins the viewer’s support.
In spite of a few lengthy plot holes felt halfway through, the film makes up for it later on, thanks to the character of Lindsey. Jovial and cheerful, the young woman takes on an extreme challenge to raise awareness of water pollution in Bristol. Followed by a giant inflatable poo and wearing a mermaid costume, Lindsey swims for seven hours across the Bristol Channel. Charlotte Sawyer revitalizes the spectator’s interest by having us watch Lindsey with the same interest as a breathless sporting event.
Numerous eccentricities promoting the cause are invoked in the film—whether it’s Lindsey and her challenge; the municipal debate initiated by the activist group; the swimsuit rave; or a user’s marriage with the river—each individual acts in their own way to assert their right to clean swimming. The film, with its unifying scope, is proof that everyone can take action on their own scale.
With a magnificent scene enhanced by melodious music, the final scene offers a splendid cultural reference loaded with symbolism.
The river’s bride is staged in the manner of Shakespeare’s Ophelia in her dying moments. Zooming out, the character recalls Kirsten Dunst in Melancholia or the painting by John Everett Millais (Ophelia), as we discover the river and the verdant nature that surrounds her. This homage heightens the beauty and poetry of the residents’ struggle.
