PowderPeople | Chris Benchetler

December 11th 2025, 6 p.m. I arrive at the cinema in Paris, two hours before the Arc’teryx Film Tour. Julia from Arc’teryx introduces me to Chris Benchetler. For a brief moment, I feel nervous - then it fades immediately.

It quickly becomes clear that Benchetler is exactly how his work feels: thoughtful, calm, attentive. Not distant or elevated, but present. Someone who listens. From this first exchange, a longer conversation unfolds about Mountains of the Moon, about creative processes, community, nature, and balance. Not as a classic promo interview, but as an honest conversation on equal footing.

The following interview is an attempt to capture that atmosphere.

SECTION 1 - Roots & Values

Hannes:
Thank you for taking the time, Chris. I’m coming into this conversation with a lot of gratitude. I spent the last five years living in Innsbruck, recently time on Salt Spring Island connecting with community and land, and before that in Nelson, where I experienced how tight-knit the ski-creative world really is. Your path - blending skiing, design, and storytelling - means a lot to me personally. My intention today is to create a grounded space and explore the values and creativity behind Mountains of the Moon.

If young Chris - skiing Mammoth in his teens - could see you now, creating films and art with complete freedom inside that same community… what do you think he’d feel?

Chris:
That’s a very good question. The short answer is that I think I would feel proud.

I’m a very hard worker, but I’m not a big planner. I don’t write down goals or map out what the next year, five years, or ten years of my life will look like. I’m good at pulling on different threads and following where life takes me.

As a younger version of myself, I clearly loved skiing, art, and music. I loved all of those things. But if you had told me I was going to be making films, working with the Grateful Dead, skiing, surfing, and doing all of these things with some of the best athletes in the world, I never would have imagined it. I would feel proud of that.

That’s really inspiring to hear. I feel like there’s something important in how you didn’t rush it - just taking things as they came and letting them evolve. What values carried over from childhood to now, and which ones evolved as you became the creator you are today?

My biggest values are gratitude, humility, and work ethic. I don’t know if work ethic is technically a value, but it’s how my parents raised me - to be humble, to be grateful, and to work hard.

Those are still the biggest ones I practice every day.

SECTION 2 - The Film: Mountains of the Moon

How much of Mountains of the Moon was written out versus discovered spontaneously along the way?

I think this film was very experimental. We learned a lot along the way. We failed a lot. We had to fix things in real time - out in nature -or adapt and change constantly.Even just the development of this took much longer than I ever anticipated. I had really intelligent people helping me, which was nice, because it wasn’t just my mind conceptualizing things and fixing problems.

In terms of how much I actually wrote out versus how much I discovered spontaneously, I’m really bad at writing. But I communicated a lot. We had so many phone calls. Tyler, my director of photography, and I have worked together for a long time. He actually went to high school with Pep. We filmed Poor Boys way back, and he’s often referred to as my creative translator.

So we speak the same language. The amount of phone calls we had -and then Shane, who developed the suits, and all the different people - it was more about sharing the concept, the thirty-thousand-foot view, than writing out a shot list. It was about bringing a collective of people and artists together to create something bigger than ourselves.

I hear the line “not one meeting without a surprise.” It feels similar to prototype skiing - build, test, adapt. How fluid was your creative model in practice?

It was very fluid. We were fixing things in real time, adapting, changing, constantly responding to what was happening.The development alone took much longer than I expected. It was helpful to have more than just my own mind working on it—really intelligent people helping conceptualize and solve problems.

It’s like a band. You need each instrument to make the music. You need rhythm, space, composition. All of those elements have to come together to create something cohesive. You’re composing a bigger idea

Which part of the movie was the hardest to craft or took the most attempts?

The suits were definitely the hardest.

Shane’s holographic suit took about a year. What did that level of detail enable for the shoot possibilities?

Shane is a perfectionist, which was really helpful. He wanted to make sure he could do exactly what he said he was going to do. That mentality is similar to my own follow-through. At the risk of his mental and physical health, he put in an incredible amount of effort. He could have simplified things and said, “This is good enough,” but he wanted it to be the best possible version.

He plans for worst-case scenarios. I’m more optimistic, but you need someone like him thinking through everything. At one point, someone literally had to jump into the water wearing the suit to test it and make sure it was safe and functional.

That balance was important - optimism paired with realism. A lot of this comes down to trust and long-term relationships. When people know that if I say I’m going to do something, it’s going to happen, they’re willing to back it.

You move between skiing, film, art, and brand worlds. How do you navigate all the shifting expectations and finances in this industry?

I get asked this a lot, and I don’t really have a clean answer. It has to do with twenty years of working on things I believed in, even when they didn’t make sense at the time.

Before van life was popular, I wanted to live in a van and build it out. GoPro thought I was crazy. I left traditional filming, hired my own filmer, built my own van, and that project ended up being one of their most viewed films. You keep building things together, and people know what to expect. They know that if I say I’m going to do something, it’s going to happen.

That also comes with finances. People have to leave their normal jobs or dedicate years of their lives. I’m paying salaries, managing budgets, forecasting—and I underestimated the scope. It was much more challenging and expensive than I thought.

I had help. My producer handled permits, First Nations relationships, land acknowledgments, and working with the Forest Service. We tried to take every step necessary to respect the land and everyone involved. And I have a very supportive wife who holds down the fort at home while I dream big.

What’s your perspective on old-growth logging? Have you ever thought of illustrating something like an “old man log” or a character rooted in that issue?

I think it’s heartbreaking. When you spend time in those places and understand how interconnected everything is, it’s hard not to feel that way.

I don’t always approach those topics directly or literally in my work, but the influence is always there. Those environments shape how I think and create, whether it’s obvious or not.

When it comes to mycelium and ecosystem intelligence - what can people expect to discover in the film around that topic?

There’s definitely a whole science element that will be missed by a lot of people unless they really listen. Mycelium is the thread that connects everything. In the film, the avalanche sequence represents the Big Bang - the creation of all living things. In Paul Stamets’ mind, and in science, mycelium is responsible for all life.

We go on a journey - from darkness, to sunrise, into river systems. We move through the cycle of life, the seasons, the runoff into the rivers. There’s fly fishing for salmon, and then there’s the eagle and the bear. Paul talks about bears dragging salmon into the forest, which feeds the old growth. That nutrient cycle sustains everything.

My brother is the angler in the film. He’s an environmental engineer who does river restoration in Canada. When old growth is cut, sediment fills the rivers and destroys their natural structure - it turns them into highways instead of living ecosystems.

So he works with First Nations and with Redfish, rebuilding rivers using only natural materials. No cement - just wood, logs, and natural dams. That allows salmon and steelhead to return. There’s a lot of depth there. It’s not always obvious, but it’s very intentional.

It feels deeply thought through, but also intuitive at the same time.

That’s accurate. My art isn’t intentional in a linear way - it comes through me in moments. I move colors, composition, paint, and then step back to see what emerges. My relationships, the natural world, Paul - those things always show up because they’re what shaped me.

It’s all an experiment. I don’t want to get stuck in one way of creating. I’m constantly testing new mediums and diving deeper into my own consciousness.

SECTION 4 - Feelings & Reflection

Where are you honestly right now - personally, creatively? Was there a pure fulfillment moment?

It’s honestly incredible. It’s a really proud moment. I don’t celebrate very often, for anything really. Maybe that goes back to humility, or always wanting to keep creating and evolving. But I do feel proud.

If I take it back to the beginning of this conversation, I’d say I’m proud that we got to the finish line. There were many reasons to give up. Many reasons to turn back and stop. I’m impressed by the team and the collaborative effort everyone put in. I’m really proud of everyone involved - and that includes myself.

At the same time, it’s my family, my children, and the natural world that shape me. Being with all of that is what drives my work. The reason I create is because it’s coming from something bigger than me. I feel drawn to create, and I get pulled into this world in my head that I can’t really live inside. So it’s nice to have a way to translate that - to bring it into the world.

What fuels you these days - family, powder, love, art, community?

All of it.

My family, my children, the natural world - it all feeds into why I create. I’ve been creating since I was a child. I’ve been drawing on every piece of paper since the moment I could. It’s something that’s flowing through me all the time.

I heard you have a bit of a pact with Nico Zacek from The Nines. Any sneak peek? Lighting the course at night? Just bringing people together to ski and creating the most beautiful video around it?

We’ve texted a little bit, but nothing’s planned. I like knowing that I can give Nico a little text, see what he’s thinking. I haven’t seen him in a while. It would be fun to catch up and see what happens.

I want to close with three reflections:

Rose: What was the most beautiful thing that happened throughout this project?
Thorn: What was the most difficult or challenging part?
Bud: What inspired you the most—what potential for growth do you see ahead?

That’s funny - we actually do this at the dinner table with my family.

My rose is that we made it to the finish line. My thorn is that people and personalities got hurt along the way. And my bud is curiosity - seeing where this project goes now that it’s out in the world. It’s not really mine anymore.

It’s like having a child. You set it free and see what kind of life it builds. I’m curious to see what it becomes.

Thank you for your time, Chris! It was such a pleasure.

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The conversation with Chris Benchetler doesn’t end with a punchline, but with an open thought. Mountains of the Moon is out in the world now, no longer just his. Like a child finding its own path.

Perhaps that is the constant in his work: creating things with care - and then letting them go. Without a master plan. But connected.

PS: I highly recommend watching Chris’s 32-part Ship of Fools behind-the-scenes series on his YouTube channel.