The Great Moose Migration has emerged as a ‘slow TV’ sensation, engrossing audiences globally with its depiction of the majestic moose’s epic journey, despite infrequent on-screen appearances. We delve behind the scenes with its creators.
On a brisk, bright early spring afternoon on a small, uninhabited island in the Ångerman river in northern Sweden, the stars of The Great Moose Migration are proving predictably elusive. This mirrors the experience of viewers of the world’s most prominent slow TV phenomenon – a three-week-long, 450-hour, free-to-view continuous livestream from the Västernorrland wilderness. Millions worldwide are mysteriously captivated each year, even though very little outwardly happens. Dedicated viewers are fortunate to spot an ‘älg’ (as they are known in Swedish) making its annual crossing of the Ångerman en route to richer summer pastures to the north, perhaps more frequently than once every 400 minutes on average. However, within this landscape, which moose have navigated for 6,000 years, signs of these illustrious creatures are omnipresent if one knows where to search. After a brief search amongst some lingonberry bushes, The Great Moose Migration producer and co-creator Stefan Edlund eventually produces a firm, round lump of dried moose dung for me. “It’s a bit gross,” he admits, “but they only eat plants.”
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The Great Moose Migration has become a ‘slow TV’ sensation, keeping audiences worldwide glued to the beasts’ epic trek – even if they’re rarely spotted on screen. We go behind the scenes with its makers.
On a crisp bright early spring afternoon on a small uninhabited island in the Ångerman river in northern Sweden, the stars of The Great Moose Migration are proving suitably elusive. Just as they do, for the most part, to viewers of the world’s biggest slow TV phenomenon – a three-week-long, 450-hour, free-to-view continuous livestream from the Västernorrland wilderness that has a global audience of millions mysteriously captivated every year, despite precious little happening at all. Hardcore watchers will be lucky to spot an älg, as they are called in Swedish, making their annual crossing of the Ångerman en route to richer summer pastures north any more frequently on average than about once every 400 minutes. But among this landscape, which moose have traversed for 6,000 years, traces of the illustrious beasts are everywhere if you know where to look for them. After a bit of raking among some lingonberry bushes, The Great Moose Migration producer and co-creator Stefan Edlund eventually finds a firm round lump of dried moose dung to hand me. “It’s a bit gross,” he acknowledges, “but they only eat plants.”