This film is certainly poetic, inspiring, poignant. But I believe it crosses the fuzzy line separating a documentary from a fiction. Though I'm sure the story was based on penguin observation and research, the telling of it sounds far more like a "historical drama" which was "based on actual events", but took many liberties.
I'm bothered by the notion that animals experience and express emotions the same way we humans do. The filmmakers chose to create this film in a manner that blatantly plays off our emotional responses, anthropomorphizing everything they pointed their cameras at.
For example, the narration speaks of winter as if it were a god, "doing everything in its power to stop the penguins." The long winter is repeatedly referred to as a time of "darkness", in a very negative way. But I doubt the polar nights are very dark. There's an awful lot of stars, the moon, and those incredible auroras reflecting off an almost entirely white surface. Even to human eyes, it must be spectacularly beautiful. Imagine what penguin eyes, designed to see under water, must see?
The love scene was shot in super slo-mo, edited to convey a sense of tenderness (that yes, actually brought tears to my eyes) not often seen in birds. In fact, when you see animals "doing it" in real time, it's rather abrupt and unromantic, by our standards. Also, in the bit where the mother penguin looses her chick, the narrator describes the loss as "unbearable" while you hear her moan. But how do we know what she is really feeling? Was that sound she made real, or was added to the soundtrack from another, unrelated event? Does that sound actually convey sadness to a penguin?
I know I probably come across as a bit of a pill here, but I really dislike the romantification of Nature. If you're going to create a poetic, impressionistic film about nature, I much prefer the approach of Microcosmos: Leave out the narration altogether and just watch.
And in an odd bit of irony, this film would seem to cater to children through its heavy use of metaphor and simplistic world-view, but it's too slow for (young) kids anyway. My daughter (4 1/2) started asking me if we could leave about half way through. She stuck it out to the end, cried once, but was rather blasé about it afterwords.
You may be wondering why I gave 8 out of 10, after dissing it so much. Well, I have to give them credit for making a beautiful, somewhat informative, movie in what must've been incredibly harsh conditions. Also, I can't help but feel a profound sense of awe and respect for these birds. And relief that I am not one of them.
I'm bothered by the notion that animals experience and express emotions the same way we humans do. The filmmakers chose to create this film in a manner that blatantly plays off our emotional responses, anthropomorphizing everything they pointed their cameras at.
For example, the narration speaks of winter as if it were a god, "doing everything in its power to stop the penguins." The long winter is repeatedly referred to as a time of "darkness", in a very negative way. But I doubt the polar nights are very dark. There's an awful lot of stars, the moon, and those incredible auroras reflecting off an almost entirely white surface. Even to human eyes, it must be spectacularly beautiful. Imagine what penguin eyes, designed to see under water, must see?
The love scene was shot in super slo-mo, edited to convey a sense of tenderness (that yes, actually brought tears to my eyes) not often seen in birds. In fact, when you see animals "doing it" in real time, it's rather abrupt and unromantic, by our standards. Also, in the bit where the mother penguin looses her chick, the narrator describes the loss as "unbearable" while you hear her moan. But how do we know what she is really feeling? Was that sound she made real, or was added to the soundtrack from another, unrelated event? Does that sound actually convey sadness to a penguin?
I know I probably come across as a bit of a pill here, but I really dislike the romantification of Nature. If you're going to create a poetic, impressionistic film about nature, I much prefer the approach of Microcosmos: Leave out the narration altogether and just watch.
And in an odd bit of irony, this film would seem to cater to children through its heavy use of metaphor and simplistic world-view, but it's too slow for (young) kids anyway. My daughter (4 1/2) started asking me if we could leave about half way through. She stuck it out to the end, cried once, but was rather blasé about it afterwords.
You may be wondering why I gave 8 out of 10, after dissing it so much. Well, I have to give them credit for making a beautiful, somewhat informative, movie in what must've been incredibly harsh conditions. Also, I can't help but feel a profound sense of awe and respect for these birds. And relief that I am not one of them.