Once a year, beneath a Tanzanian volcano, most of the world’s flamingos congregate with the express purpose of getting it on. The pinkest birds, coloured by algae unique to this breeding ground, get first pick. But not before all two million specimens bump and grind against one another as part of the planet’s biggest orgiastic dance.

Good grief. Can this spectacle really be part of a Disney film?
“To be fair,” laughs co-director, Leander Ward, “the actual sex is very, very brief. We were already developing the film before Disney came along, but they were great. We were free to film the birds with no interference. It was a fantastic opportunity.”
“We had enormous freedom,” adds his partner in crime, Matthew Aeberhand. “They actually encouraged a personal take on nature. They didn’t want something that looked exactly like a David Attenborough film. They wanted something that was all our own work.”
The results of their labours are plain to see in Crimson Wing, a gorgeous ornithological epic that charts the scarcely believable mating habits of the most flamboyant looking creatures in the entire animal kingdom.
“It seems extraordinary,” says director, Matthew Aeberhand. “But there is no base data for the flamingos and their breeding behaviour at Lake Natron. We have no way of determining if the population is dropping. It seemed to us that it was very important to call attention to the flamingos and this amazing otherworldly place. More people have visited the moon than have been here. Even though this is also the spot where humanity comes from.”  
The project has more than tail feathers riding on it. As the noughties got into full swing, it became increasingly apparent that Disney needed a shot in the arm. Hollywood’s most recognisable brand promptly swung into action, buying up Pixar and assorted competitors, and getting back to basics. Proper line animation and nature films were once again priorities for the House of Mouse. Walt Disney, you may recall, scored multiple Oscars for his True Life Adventure series over 17 films and three decades. Now, Disney Nature, a smart new independent unit, is out to add to the silverware tally.
You might say that the imprint’s overture, Crimson Wing, has a lot of history to shoulder.
“There was a lot of pressure,” admits Mr. Ward. “We had to deliver the film in quite a short amount of time. 14 months sounds like an age but it’s the bare minimum for this kind of project. On the plus side, the timeframe meant we didn’t have time to consider what the formal response to the movie might be. We just had to get on with it.”
“It was never going to be a new True Life Adventure film,” adds Mr. Aeberhand. “We just wanted to tell a story that would help people to engage with nature and the subject matter. The True Life Adventure series was great for that time, but wildlife programming and cinematography has developed massively since then. We wanted it to mean more to people than a bunch of pretty birds.”
Despite their less than menacing subjects, the shoot was fraught with danger. The area’s sodium and sulphur concentration was enough to produce chemical burns. And just to add to the drama, the volcano erupted for the first time in 30 years.
“At times it was downright dangerous,” admits Mr. Aeberhand. “I do remember hanging onto a ledge for half an hour which certainly pushed the envelope in term of personal safety. It was a beautiful dramatic place but the salt got everywhere.”
“We wore snowshoes to walk around,” says Mr. Ward. “One guy, an ornithologist called Leslie Brown, tried to go out on the flats without them and ended up with chemical burns. He almost lost his life. At the best of times, it stings like hell.”
Commendably, the film studiously avoids the cutesy-pie anthropomorphising that has characterised recent nature documentaries. Just as the audience is cooing over the flamingo chicks, along comes a Marabou Stork to gobble them up. Just as the chicks are about to reach the relative safety of the marshlands, salt deposits form shackles around their ankles and render them unable to move.
“Our film often gets compared to March of the Penguins which can be frustrating,” says Mr. Aeberhand. “We set out to do an entirely honest portrayal. This is a very different project.  Also, we’ve been developing the film since 2002. That said, March of the Penguins did open doors for us. It made it easier to get the film financed.”  
In the harsh acrid environs of Crimson Wing, Death gets his biggest role since The Seventh Seal. Weren’t the filmmakers even tempted to lend a salt-bound chick a hand?
“Would you ask David Blaine how he does his tricks?” laughs Mr. Ward. “It was very important that we observe the birds in their natural environment and to not interfere. But maybe, just maybe, when it wasn’t going to mess up the grand scheme of things, we might have helped the odd chick out.”
“Death was always going to be a big part of this film,” adds Mr. Aeberhand. “We all know that bad things happen to good people. Shit happens in the natural world, too.”
Mr. Aeberhand, whose cinematography has enlivened the National Geographic channel for many years, has stayed on in the region with his wife, Melanie. Their efforts have not been in vain. Recently, the area avoided a potential eco-catastrophe when Tata, an Indian petrochemical company withdrew plans to build a sodium mine right on the lake.
“This was a campaigning film for us,” says Mr. Ward. “Tata pulled out having been surprised by the negative attention they received from the film. It’s a very difficult situation. The Tanzanian government are charged with looking after a poor country and a growing population. On the other hand, Lake Natron and the flamingos are a global resource. We’re hoping people see the film and want to check out all the options. Go online look up RSPB or similar organisations.”
“These birds are a total mystery,” says Mr. Aeberhand. “To us they’ve awkward gangly pink things. But they are individuals. Each parent can recognise their chick’s unique cry. And how do they all know to fly off to a lake anyway? They require further study. We’ve only just scratched the surface.”