The Five Year old Darwin & March of the Penguins

I took the kids to see March of the Penguins yesterday. I have no freakin’ idea why I didn’t realize Bad Things were going to happen in a Nature Documentary, and I’ve scarred another five year old for life. (The 4yo was more freaked out by the trailer for Corpse Bride, and I cannot for the life of me think why the MPAA thinks that trailer is “approved for all audiences”.)

The movie moves at a glacial pace. The penguins trek to their mating spot 70 miles from the sea, often staying awake for two weeks to make the hike. I felt like I had stayed awake watching for two weeks. Of course, all drama is provided by mother nature. Freeman’s voice is soothing, but not comforting enough that the kids aren’t scared when the preditors do their thing. My niece was traumatized when the “bad seagull” ate a chick. But, she reasoned, the chick wasn’t strong enough to get away. See what 6 months of living with Pete will do? Turns you right into a Victorian Thinker. Of course, the seal that eats the mother penguin was dealt with in its own way, eliciting despair that seals and penguins are not friends, as she thought.

I wish I could have stayed for the credits where they show how the documentary was made–which I think would be a more interesting movie. (Alexa ran from the theater when the credits started to roll, however, and I was freaked out with my own scenarios of “bad seagulls” and chicks who might not be strong enough to fend them off. I had to scoop up the small one and run after her.) The cinematography was good, of course having such stunning scenery makes it a bit too easy. Sometimes the film had a grainy quality (too cold?) and the scene where the seal eats the penguin was particularly degraded. The seal looked cartoonish.

In the end, I imagine it was the incredible expense of shooting that landed this in the theater rather than on Animal Planet where it belongs. The Emporer Penguins have an interesting story, but not for 85 minutes. And you know me, 85 minutes is just under my favorite movie running time of 90 minutes.

If you have a friend who is a movie talker, this is a great film to see with them. Everyone talked through the whole movie, and it wasn’t really disruptive since there’s so little to listen to.

14 thoughts on “The Five Year old Darwin & March of the Penguins”

  1. There is an interesting process where things are sold as nature documentaries, but seem designed to scare kids. “Walking with dinosaurs” and its progeny seem to revel in the bloody side of nature. A recent documentary on the so-called “super volcano” under Yellowstone was deliberately alarmist. So they are targeted at kids who like science, or their parents, and they always imagine the worst case scenario. It is not so much the violence, or the fact that my kids get nightmares, as the bad science, or the deliberate distortion of science to pull audiences.

    And didn’t the preview for “Corpses Bride” seem like a straight sequel to “Nightmare before Christmas”? I thought Tim Burton would be more adventurous.

  2. The folks who put this together did Winged Migration, which was shot using cameras attached to silly little gliders (Nelson: “ha ha!”). They also did Microcosmos (I love the French title: le Peuple de l’herbe). This one was shot using the “Macro” range of a 35mm and time lapse photography (for Nikki’s sake, they should have used time lapse photography in March of the Penguins). I heard their next project is “Snotsville.” A tiny medical camera lives in a man’s nose for eight weeks. It’s coming to IMAX. Should be good.

  3. I hear you, Nikki. I foolishly took my son to a “family” film. Halfway through, as the sadistic torture dwarf began a new round of electrocuting exercises with his charges, I realized that Bloodsucking Freaks was not the right film for Max.

    2 more serious responses, though:
    1. Isn’t nature kind of conventionally–as you implied, since the Victorians?–imagined as red in tooth and claw, as a site of brutal warfare… and hasn’t it been marketed to kids that way for at least that long? I recall my own infatuation with ‘true-nature’ stuff as a kid–dinos, sharks, but also chimps, crocodiles, etc.–and it was kind of my generic expectation that drama would involve animals eating one another.

    (The other kiddie kind of nature film I remember was “zany” nature: goony birds crashlanding to exaggerated sound effects on Disney, lovable baboons–baboons!–with funny butts, etc.)

    2. One of my favorite things about The Life Aquatic, which I really need to re-see, was how the film’s narrative itself seemed kind of like a nature doc, of that old form: see the animals in their habitats (that amazing boat shot as much an antfarm or aquarium view), see their interactions, see them attacked by predators, watch the mating rituals, see the death of a loved one….

    What’s the scientific reason for your trip?
    Revenge.

    Ok, 3: I am interested in how these things get ‘scienced’ up, or how they are sold as science–and what else gets the pop-sci treatment. And why such olde school narratives (family life, struggle against environment, etc.) need to be retooled as “nature” to be appealing to parents. Or how the things we are anxious about (like violence, sex) are made downright educational when done by four-legged usually non-animated things. (I can imagine my own caution about showing my kid Looney Tunes, but Dinos tearing one another to shreds? Bring ’em on.)

  4. A great anti-nature doc film is Greenaway’s A Zed and Two Noughts. Like other Greenaway, it is arch and pretentious, but this time effectively and dramatically so.

  5. can i bar michael from the blog for mentioning greenaway and thus reminding me of “the pillow book”?

    michael, congratulations on the move (though i’m very fuzzy on the details). has any other move to bowling green ever received such rave reviews?

  6. arnab–Prospero’s books is even more painful than the Pillow Book I think. thanks for the congrats–yes, it is true I have moved to Bowling Green Ohio for a lecturer position in their writing program. has anyone else ever moved to bowling green? i haven’t seen a single sign of bowling yet, so I’m thinking of suing!

  7. You probably know this but BGSU has one of the oldest, and most respected popular culture departments in the states. And their theatre and film department is also nationally recognized (with a professional theatre attached). I certainly looked into their PhD program for both of these reasons and think it will be a cool place to hang for a while or longer. Cheers!

  8. Is the dislike of Greenaway universal here? I have been accused of being arty and pretentious in my tastes before – but here? By this arty and pretentious crowd?

    I like nearly all of Greenaway’s films. I liked the Pillow Book well enough, and watching Prospero’s Books on the big screen impressed me to no end. Thief and Cook, Zed & Two Naughts, Draughtman’s Contract – I’ve liked all of these movies.

  9. I like Greenaway. The Draughtman’s Contract was my first experience and it stuck. I’m a big fan of Cook/Thief and also enjoyed watching Prospero’s Books and The Baby of Macon. I like them the way I like Derek Jarman and/or Robert Wilson’s work–visually and aurally grandiose.

  10. Have you ever been to a conference with some of these
    “respected” Bowling Green pop culture types, John? They may have been with it when they started, but they’ve been left behind. Here’s hoping there’s been retirements, Michael.

    I only have liked Theif, Cook, Wife, Lover. I think we saw Prospero’s Books as part of the USC English Grad Students Conference Before Everyone’s Time (1991). It made me wonder what the hell I had gotten myself into with graduate school. I also recall watching Zed &c on Scarff Street and being too bored to follow it. Is that what we were watching, Michael?

  11. Don’t know anyone from the Popular Culture department. By the way, you wouldn’t expect the oldest and most respected program in Popular Culture would have such a cruddy web site. Yikes.

    I do, however, know Cynthia Barron, who is in the Film Studies department. I met her at a conference at Kent State years ago. Chances of her remembering me are nil.

    What about the Writing Program? Is it not the oldest, most respected in the country? Is it not where Sheridan Baker, with a generous grant from the Ford Foundation, built his first thesis machine?

    Or was he at the Writing Program at Bowling Green, KY?

    I understand that Bowling Green, KY and Bowling Green, OH are fierce rivals. The KY folks believe the original Bowling Green is in their state, whereas the OH folks say their neighbors to the south are on crack. The KY folks argue that Bowling Green, KY, was immortalized in the W.C. Handy song, “Long Gone John (from Bowling Green)” and therefore they are rightful proprietors of said moniker, whereas the OH folks say “I got your Long Gone John right here.”

  12. Nikki – I was in Philly a few days ago. Had no idea you and Pete were there. What’s up with the punks in your town? There weren’t that many actually INSIDE the Mutter Museum, but all around – for blocks on every side – the place was crawling with hardcore punks. Like hundreds of them. It was one of the most bizarre things I’d ever seen.

  13. more specifically, they say “I got your Long John swingin'” yes, Nikki, I imagine we were watching “Zed…” because I had to write an essay about it for a class on English cinema. that was about a 1,000 years ago. Greenaway often has his moments–certainly he can pull off a stunning visual style and a powerful convergence of formal elements as in The Thief, etc.–but I find many of his films to be “strained seriousness” (apologies to Andrew Sarris). as for bowling green, apparently there are various rivalries between the departments concerned with “culture”–a rivalry, of course, that has very little meaning except for those directly involved. word on the street has it that Bowling Green served as inspiration for the Hitler Studies vs. Elvis Studies rivalry in deLillo’s White Noise. but you didn’t hear it from me.

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