NEVER CRY WOLF (PG)

Yes, it’s been a while since I’ve posted a review here on KidsFlix. But I’m back now!

I wrote some time ago about another film directed by Carroll Ballard (Duma), and you probably know a couple of others: his film The Black Stallion is beloved, as is Fly Away Home. It’s hard to believe that neither son K nor I have seen either of these, and they’re on my list, but they’re so well known that I tend to skirt around them in favor of lesser-known films. You may want to check them out if you haven’t yet.

Never Cry Wolf is a film taken from the autobiographical book by Canadian writer Farley Mowat, and in Ballard fashion, it’s stunningly gorgeous piece of work. There is much to rave about -- the story itself is an intriguing one, the performance by Charles Martin Smith is pretty much perfection, the scenery is breathtaking and the director wisely lets silence speak in many instances ... oh, and the score by Mark Isham is lovely. Oh! And the performances by Samason Jorah and Zachary Ittimangnaq as local Inuits are also perfect and lovely.

What’s not to like about Never Cry Wolf?

Not a thing. This story about an inexperienced scientist dropping -- literally -- into the middle of the frozen arctic to study wolves has so many important topics woven into it (a number of things worth discussing with the kids afterwards) that you really get two bangs for your buck: a fascinating and visually pleasing story on film, and plenty of food for thought.

(Caveat for the prudish parent: there is a scene -- actually two -- where Smith bares his backside, and one scene is rather lengthy. I don’t want to give anything away, so won’t give details, but Smiths’ character is basically portrayed [very carefully] au naturale for a good five or six minutes. There is also one scene that might be a bit scary for younger kids, where he dreams of a wolf attack.)

This is great family time viewing; add it to your list!

NATURE'S MOST AMAZING EVENTS

We caught some of “Nature’s Most Amazing Events” on the Discovery Channel, and this month the series is released on DVD and on Blue-ray.

A close cousin to the great Planet Earth series, this program also features stunning photography, and really enlightening storytelling. Following the natural cycles of nature that can be both life threatening and species propagating, the series is a great way for kids to grasp the interconnectedness of all things: One animal’s tragedy may be another’s survival.


The Great Flood; The Great Feast; The Great Melt; these are natural and climactic phenomena that stretch across the planet, affecting wildlife on different continents with equal vigor. (These are also the names of episodes.)

If you’re looking for some nature viewing this weekend that’s a notch (or two) above what you might stumble on watching TV, clicking between Animal Planet and PBS, pick up Nature's Most Amazing Events instead. Highly recommended.

• For more "nature" and documentary ideas, check these out.

RIVERS AND TIDES (G)

Son K once spent a gorgeous summer day here in Maine building and rebuilding a stone “dam” in a river, and I suspected that half the thrill was directing the water, and being in control of it, and the other half was the visual aspect, the ability to change stone size, shape and color in any way that gave him pleasure. It was simply heavenly to watch him so absorbed, so focused on his task all afternoon in this quiet, undisturbed place we’d found. I also remembered, briefly, the joy and wonder I felt as a kid doing the same kinds of things.

If your kids love playing in nature, collecting stones, playing in sand, exploring creeks and tidal pools, they’ll probably love Rivers and Tides. It’s a mesmerizing documentary about an artist who uses the natural world as his creative tools, and it quietly stirs the viewer’s own memories and feelings related to the tactile exploration of nature and our inexplicable desire to rearrange it.

Andy Goldsworthy is a noted Scottish artist who uses items such as stones, driftwood, water, bracken, and lily pads to create art that is often ephemeral and fleeting. He is sometimes working with nature, and sometimes against it, almost always racing with an incoming tide, an ice-melting sun, or some other natural force, which he incorporates into the piece. His work is lovely, and like the web of a spider, is often concentric or patterned, and seems to have some complex blueprint underlying that we can’t see. At first, the idea that some of his creations should have such a short life is hard to take, but eventually it becomes obvious that the complete cycle, or life, of the piece is the work. “The real work is the change,” Goldsworthy notes, and you see that the way an incoming tide changes a driftwood formation, or the way that sun and shadow changes a sculpture of bracken is integral to the work, it becomes an even bigger part of the work.

Of course, watching a piece come tumbling down as he’s still building it, due to wind or water or some other force of nature, is heartbreaking, but Goldsworthy seems pretty impervious at this point. He’ll just quietly start again, light and weather willing. His work can be as detailed as carefully placing a brilliant white rope of wool atop a long, rambling stonewall in the Scottish countryside, or it can be as fleeting as throwing snow into the air. It’s a great reminder (or lesson) that art can be many, many things, and created in many ways.

There is a hypnotic, restful quality to the film, and I’d suspect that kids on the younger end of the age spectrum will be quite engaged, as would kids just past the tweener stage, especially creative, thoughtful teens. (Watching our own tweener son in his changing viewing habits, I’m finding this stage a bit difficult; at this age, they beg for PG-13 movies, they want more action, more adult themes, and documentaries are sometimes the most difficult genre to get them to agree to.) K wasn’t home when I watched this, so I can’t give you his take, but I’m not completely convinced he would have given it a chance. I might hold on to the disc and give it a try.

It’s such a magical film. I’d be interested to hear about your own family experience if you’ve seen Rivers and Tides.

(Oh, and here’s the parental caveat: at about 50 minutes in, when the POV has changed from the woods to sheep country, there is a very abrupt mood changer: a sheep is running in a circle and a man, rather brusquely, snares it with some contraption and he grabs it and wrangles is to the ground. Before you can say “little lambs eat ivy,” it seems the man has pulled a baby from the mother’s womb, in all its graphic glory. The hardest part for me was when the mama sheep got up and stumbled around, it nearly (or may have) stepped on the little guy -- I was horrified.)

Here is a trailer, where Goldsworthy expounds, brilliantly, on the ephemeral aspect of his work. Unfortunately, they cut off the very end of his point: listen carefully, and then add these words after he ends with “shock” (I happened to make note of this while watching): [He scratches his chin.] Reluctantly, but as if a light bulb went off in his head, he admits, “I can’t explain that.”



There are a lot of videos featuring Goldsworthy's work on YouTube if you have a few minutes to search around ... you’ll see some really superb stuff.

Rather than link to another here (it’s so hard to decide!), here’s something cool I stumbled on that has nothing to do with Rivers and Tides:

The Singing, Ringing Tree:

This Week's Classic Kids' Movie

I vacillated a bit on this one, but overall give it a thumbs up, and even have no qualms about putting it in the “classic kids’ movie” category. I do this because in some ways it’s the perfect kids’ movie, for the younger set in particular, and even with its blemishes and bumps it will stand the test of time.

Purists take issue with the “documentary” label given to Winged Migration (it was even nominated for an Oscar in 2001 in that category), since the filmmakers used birds trained (“imprinted”) from birth, so that they would fly undisturbed by equipment and crew, and since it was filmed over a period of four years and thus does not truly “document” a natural migration. There are also some segments that are CGI-enhanced.

That said: I’m no purist, and when you’re searching for something thoughtful, quiet, and artful for younger kids, something like watching birds being birds (several species are here, including geese, storks, and pelicans) -- from various angles and distances (both air and land/sea), up close and with unfettered views -- can be magical and very rewarding. I remember taking K to a theater to see this, he grumbled a bit thinking it was going to be boring (he was about eight years old, as headstrong as he is now), but he was entranced for the hour and a half.

The cinematography is stunning, and the whole “birds’ eye view” concept is what makes the film so special. Much of the film takes place right alongside birds as they are flying, and seeing them in motion where they can really be studied is a rare opportunity. There is very little dialogue, and occasional dramatic bits keep the viewer from dozing off or losing focus. These dramatic scenes might bother some smaller children, as they depict the perils and dangers of the real world (again, purists may ask, “Were these scenes set up? Are they real? Were any birds harmed for the purpose of the film?”): geese pick at polluted puddles of water, birds appear to be shot out of the sky by hunters, another bird gets stuck in industrial sludge. You get the drift.

Without being overtly preachy, this truly beautiful cinematic adventure manages to convey the importance of our role in keeping the earth safe and hospitable for all creatures, which is a good message for kids of any age.

More cool documentaries here.

WHALEDREAMERS (NR/PG-13)

Whaledreamers is a documentary by musician Julian Lennon and director Kim Kindersley that is hugely earnest and well meaning but layers on so many ideas and causes at once that it’s difficult to fully embrace. I’m sort of a sucker (when I’m in the right mood) for “let’s become one and save the world” theology, and so I stayed to the end and was, in fact, doing a little weepy, “why-oh-why-
does-the-world-work-this-way?” soul searching when K walked in and said, “Oh. It’s sad,” and walked out. He was not interested.

Which is good, because this is not for kids!

Ok, before you scurry away, let me clarify: it’s not for young kids.

I thought it was, which is why I watched it, and even after realizing it was not really appropriate kiddie-viewing, I stayed with it so I could give you an accurate report. (Okay, that, and I kind of liked it.)

Though the film at first focuses on Australia’s displaced indigenous Mirning people and their deep cultural bond with whales, it deals with so much more: global warming, industrialization, corporate greed, the Iraq war, among other things. In addition to being rife with these complex issues, there are also difficult images (starving children, war casualties, whale slaughtering, recollections of “disappeared” loved ones, etc.). It’s a rather slow moving piece of work and, frankly, it’s a bit of a muddle. Narrating voices don’t always make their point clear and it’s hard to know who’s speaking at times; certain cultural terminology could stand some clarification; the pacing and editing could have used a surer hand.

However, it’s also a passionate call to arms, with some very moving and beautiful images and ideas. This could work for older kids -- mature tweeners and teens -- who need something to chew on, or who are feeling budding pangs of empathy or curiosity for the natural world. The tough stuff in the film is offset by some really astounding cinematography, and by immensely touching scenes such as the director’s tale of an encounter with dolphins that changed his life. The summoning of various indigenous people to the Mirning land in Australia was quite a feat, and scenes of people as disparate as Northwest Native Americans, Maori of New Zealand, indigenous Hawaiians, Congolese and South Americans, sharing in rituals and storytelling, is educational, interesting and inspiring.

The sniffling comes late in the film, when we learn that one of the young men involved in this “summit,” an American translator and environmental activist, was later kidnapped and killed in South America where he was involved in protests against petroleum developers in the forest. Two other indigenous activists were also murdered. It’s a tough moment to get through. In fact, this event stopped the director and Lennon in their tracks; grief stricken and questioning, the Whaledreamers project came to a halt for several long years.

I think for the right young people, this can be a (painfully) eye opening and perhaps motivational experience. The world ain’t a perfect place, and those in charge are not always right and don’t always know what they’re doing. The concept of ecological “oneness,” that we are all in this together and that everything is connected, is certainly something our children should know about as they prepare to go out into the world and, hopefully, make it a better place.

Whaledreamers can help them on their journey.

(This film is not rated; I consider it to be somewhat equivalent of a PG-13 rating.)

BLUE PLANET/PLANET EARTH SERIES (G)

Maybe this is cheating. I mean, who doesn’t know about the incredible Blue Planet and Planet Earth series’ that ran on the Discovery Channel (Blue Planet ran in 2001, Planet Earth in 2007)?

Well, maybe you don’t have cable. Or maybe your kids were infants and you weren’t yet a fan of the Discovery Channel. Anything’s possible.

At any rate, I stumbled on these the other day while cruising Netflix, and son K was looking over my shoulder.

“Oh, wow ... I would see any of those again, mom! Put ‘em on the list!”

Hmm. I guess being surprised by this was enough to make me think that perhaps we need to make sure they’re included here on KidsFlix. After all, G-rated nature films that the whole family truly enjoys are not all that common; you can only watch March of the Penguins so many times!

Both series, produced by the BBC and by Alastair Fothergill, are now available on Netflix, and I presume at most decent DVD stores. The Blue Planet series was K’s favorite of the two, especially the episode entitled "The Deep," where some pretty bizarre creatures who live in the black depths of the ocean are captured on film, some for the first time. It examines different marine environments throughout the series, from frozen seas to coral reefs and coastal waters. There are so many, many amazing scenes, but one particularly memorable (and difficult) scene depicts orca whales at high tide invading a beached sea lion colony in order to dine on the young. (Yes, this serves as a warning that the vicious and harsh side of nature is well represented in these series.)

The Planet Earth series was my favorite, offering such a wide range of wildlife habitats and cinematic delights that each episode stands alone as an epic adventure. Planet Earth won both an Emmy and a Peabody Award, and David Attenborough’s narration was, for some reason, replaced on the American version by Sigourney Weaver. The series covers arctic tundra, jungles, deserts, African savannas and plains, oceans and caves, and more, and has some of the most stunning cinematography you’ll ever see.

If you haven’t seen these yet, lucky you. You’re in for a treat.

(You can get great detail on each episode by looking up each title over at Wikipedia.)

PADDLE TO THE SEA/RED BALLOON (G)

Here’s another sweet, short, G-rated movie for the young’uns. Paddle to the Sea was recently re-released by Janus films, along with two other kids’ classics, The Red Balloon and White Mane. For some reason, Paddle to the Sea is not available via Netflix, but the other two films are available as a package. If you’ve never seen The Red Balloon, well, you must have grown up in a cave (or maybe Peoria). I think I saw it in grade school at least twice, and maybe again in junior high. It’s a magical, mostly silent film, about a boy and his balloon, set in Paris. It’s completely enchanting, and although a good part of the plot involves other boys bullying him about the balloon, by today’s standards it’s pretty mild stuff.

I haven’t seen White Mane, but reviews on both Netflix and IMDB warn parents of fairly graphic violence (animal cruelty) that won’t sit well with some. You’ll have to figure this one out on your own, unless I get to it first.

Paddle to the Sea is available at our locally owned video store, which is an amazing place for several reasons, but finding this gem on their shelves (with a “recommended by staff!” tag on it) says it all. They rock.

Since you may not find it at your own local purveyor, I’ll point you to buying it at Amazon or some such other outlet, and highly recommend you bundle it with Linnea in Monet’s Garden; what a great gift it would be for a five-or six- or seven-year old (or their parents).

Paddle to the Sea was first released in 1966, a short film from the National Film Board of Canada adapted from the1941 book by the same name. It tells the tale of a young boy in the Canadian woods who spends his winter evenings carving and painting a little canoe, with a stoic Native American Indian sitting upright inside. He decides the best way for this little vessel to live its life is to actually be set out on an adventure, and so he launches it in a nearby stream where it then travels through the Great Lakes and the St. Lawrence River, onto the Atlantic Ocean.

The boy painted “Put me back in the water” on the bottom of the boat, so whenever it was discovered by a human, it was put back where it was found, and so continued its journey. There are treacherous waterfalls, big ships, pollution, wildlife, toddlers with sticks and other perilous hurdles for the little wooden Indian and his canoe to overcome.

It’s less than a half hour long, and has that lovely, quietly languid feel shared by many films made for younger kids back in the day. Nothing hurried about it, nothing to get excited or anxious about, just a sweet little adventure unfolding before our eyes.

“Who knows how far you’ll go?”

ALASKA (PG)

If you're like me, you probably hadn't heard of 1996's Alaska until you stumbled on it ... er, somewhere. There were no big names attached when it came out (doh! Except for one: Charlton Heston plays a, um ... well, a gun-totin’, kid-hatin’ poacher!), and I don't remember seeing any sort of promotion or marketing for it. I'm not sure why, as it's a fine piece of entertainment.

K and I watched this recently and it ran longer than I’d planned for; I so wanted to stop the film and get him to bed (it was a school night, and we do keep to our rules around here!), but just couldn’t. Alaska is a real cliffhanger (oooh, I wrote that before I realized the word works literally! No spoilers from me, though. My lips are sealed.).

The gist is this: Family of four living in Chicago becomes family of three when mom meets an early death (this is not dwelled upon, and happens before we join the story). Dad ("Battlestar Galactica"’s Dirk Benedict) decides to leave the rat race and move to Alaska, where he transforms from jet airliner pilot to small bi-plane pilot. He’s accompanied by his unhappy teenage son (Vincent Kartheiser, who went on to TV’s “Angel” and “Madmen”), who hates Alaska and misses the city, and an adventurous tweener daughter (Thora Birch, of Ghost World and American Beauty), who takes to their new life with gusto. Dad’s plane crashes in a storm. Rescue attempts falter, and who traipses off to the rescue? Why, the kids of course!

I think I grabbed K at least three times during the movie, accidentally digging my nails into him as I gasped in fear. I’m a sucker for wild canoe rides in raging waters, sneaky meanie-puss poachers and treacherous hikes on icy mountainsides. This movie has it all, plus (I’m saying it again) truly breathtaking photography... oh, and a really cute orphaned polar bear cub. The special effects and editing are spectacular; really, every white-knuckled scene is so realistic that you’re pulled right in.

Lots of fun. Nothing offensive. Great role for Birch as a strong, fearless girl who leads the way and keeps her head. Nice messaging about courage and inner strength. There are some scary moments for younger kids, and the bad guys who pose a nasty threat might give them pause... I’d say just show it early enough that they follow it up with some other images in their heads before trotting off to bed. Just to be safe.

GENESIS (G)

If you’re a fan of David Attenborough or, say, the "Planet Earth" series, this one is for you. (Warning: Creationists, this one is not for you.)

Genesis: Where Are We Coming From? not only answers its own question, with striking grace and elegance, but also addresses the question of our final destination. The mysterious origins (and end) of life are addressed by African griot, or storyteller, Sotigui Kouyaté, and French filmmakers/writers Claude Nuridsany and Marie Pérennou. From the big bang and the universe’s birth, to the primordial pool and our return to the earth in the end, the cycle of life is told with folkloric vision by our griot, and illustrated by the filmmakers with profoundly vibrant images.

(Note: I’ve read that the griot’s story was written by the filmmakers; which makes it their story, not his. If true, this may explain his use of the word “atom” and a few other concepts that I thought didn’t ring true to an African storyteller. In the long run, the narration is a bit of a downside, as its poetic ruminations will be lost on children, and in the beginning it slows things down.)

The film opens with a classic microscopic view of dancing, squirming spermatozoa, moving about their business to the chaotic and joyful sounds of children on a playground. It’s a charming few seconds, effective in its simplicity and creative expression, and sets the tone for the film.

From the abstract and beautiful shots of lava, moving water and plant life, to the positively ballet-like images of a seahorse mating dance, there is much here to take your breath away. We laughed out loud at legless mudskippers falling out of their mud-cone houses, and slapping each other with affection (one surmises), at a snake devouring an egg 20 times the size of its head, and at pholcid spiders vibrating in their webs. Genesis is a true feast for the eyes.

As I said, the beginning of the film (the first ten minutes or so) may be rather slow for children. Depending on your kids -- their age, patience, and ability to grapple with foggy, philosophical concepts -- you might want to have the fast forward button handy to keep them engaged. You’ll also politely ignore the distracting, dubbed English narration; I’m sure it was done to avoid subtitles interfering with the images on screen.

Genesis moves from the beginnings of life to the re-creation of life -- before getting to our final destination -- and the images of creatures “in love,” as Kouyaté puts it, are quite innocent and charming. (There’s nothing as unsightly or as awkward as rhinos mating here.) You may wonder, “Gee, are those toads actually.... in flagrante... as they move around, from land to water to land, or is it an affectionate piggy back ride?” (You can choose which explanation suits your kids.) After love and marriage, of course comes death, and this film, in my opinion, treats the end-of-life concept with a simple, matter-of-fact tone. In one sequence, a ripe, glowing, orange peach lying in grass is shown, in time-lapse photography, returning to the earth (ok, decomposing), and it offers up several opportunities for discussion. (Notice the grass suddenly shooting to new heights as the peach fertilizes the soil, for example.) It’s an evocative sequence.

The storyteller eventually portends doom, claiming, “In the end, life is cannibalistic. Life devours life...” And here, of course, is where we must see nature at its most beastly: creature on creature violence. Compared to a great deal of science and nature film, the images here are not as harsh as they could be; there are no lions gorging on juicy, baby gazelles. Here we get a terrifying ugly anglerfish (this one looks amazingly pretty in comparison), smugly devouring innocent shrimp in the blink of an eye, big toads eating little toads. It’s all lightening fast, and painless (well, from where we sit!).

If you watch Genesis, use the biggest screen in your house. Don’t even attempt this on a laptop; you’ll be robbing yourselves of the real thrill of it all.


Genesis won the Grand Prix des Amériques at the Montreal Film Festival in 2004. The directors' other film of note, and one I also recommend, Microcosmos, took the Technical Grand Prize at Cannes (1996), and won Cesar Awards for Best Cinematography and Best Film (1997). Trailers for both below, though I could only find the French language trailer for Microcosmos.

SHARKWATER (PG)

Released in the U.S. in 2008 (2006 in Canada), Sharkwater is not, as one might think, a pretty documentary about sharks, but rather a passionate, powerful telling of a true horror story unfolding in our ocean waters. Few people know the details, and even fewer people are doing anything about it.

Sharkwater director Rob Stewart is one of the latter, a scientist and filmmaker who stumbled onto the disturbing and species-threatening industry of “shark finning,” taking place in various shark hot-spots around the world. We’ve all heard bits and pieces of the story, and are perhaps vaguely familiar with the global uptick in shark fin soup consumption, but did you know that the “finning” industry is detestable, corrupt and dangerous? Do you know that more than 100 million sharks are killed each year, and that sharks are a “keystone species,” meaning they are essential to marine ecosystems as predators? And did you know that only 5-10 people on average are killed per year by sharks? In convincing us of the innocence and lovability of sharks of all kinds, Stewart glibly claims more people are killed each year by soda vending machines. (This made us giggle, and I promised to look it up later.)*

Stewart and associate Paul Watson of the renegade Sea Shepherd Conservation Society get into a bit of a tangle with both poachers and the law (who, it turns out, are on the take) in Costa Rica’s Cocos Islands, and Stewart manages to film not only their dangerous attempts to restrain the poaching vessel, but their own subsequent arrest as well. From there, things just go downhill; Stewart contracts a “skin eating” bacteria, and fights for his life in a hospital, all the while wondering how he can get back to the secret fishing docks he’s discovered in order to continue his filming. He lies in a hospital bed, antibiotics dripping into his besieged body, worrying about dwindling shark numbers, and about how the woefully misunderstood shark has gone from predator to prey at a stunning pace.

The film starts out in a much more genteel way, with lovely visuals of sharks and other bizarre and beautiful sea creatures (not to be lost in all the “messaging” of the film is the fact that Stewart is a very talented cinematographer). His lifelong fascination and adoration of sharks spurred K and I to laugh at one point, and say, “Ok, we get it: he wants to BE a shark!” In one early underwater scene, he’s holding a shark and petting it, while a few others swim around him. Stewart’s behavior evoked more than one memory of the tragic life of Grizzly Man, but I shooed the images away before they could become too vivid in my head. It’s this unfathomable empathy and compassion for the creatures that drives him to saving them, that keeps his focus steady and unshakable. Sharkwater is in many ways tremendously inspirational and moving, but the spark of passion in Stewart is one of the most touching aspects of the film.


There is some good news at the end of the film. Just when you think all may be lost, you feel some faith being restored to the “system,” to international law, and to humanity in general; you feel motivated to get behind this or some other cause, to spend your life doing something more important than bringing home a paycheck. That’s a sign of a job well done. From the kid’s perspective, well, the battle with the poachers and the increasing tension around that whole segment prompted K to say at one point, “Wow, this is such a good movie!” (I have to interject here that K was lucky enough to actually go shark diving in Hawaii a few years ago, in one of those cages that allow tourists and amateurs to get surprisingly close to the sharks. He, like many boys, has a shark fixation of his own, which is one reason we rented the movie, and I think he was pretty horrified at what was going on. It wasn’t exactly what we expected.)

But here’s the caveat: there is brutal cruelty in this movie, and it often comes without warning. Poachers swiftly cut the fins off living, breathing sharks and throw them back in the water, where they sink and die a slow death or are eaten alive. It ain’t pretty. If you think you and your kids are up for this, I say thumbs up with one particular warning: about half way in, where the dangers of “long line fishing” are being discussed (many sea creatures are killed as collateral damage using this method), there’s a bucolic scene of a sea turtle swimming along in his habitat. It suddenly cuts to an image of another turtle, caught up in fishing line, and the camera follows it from under the water to the deck of a boat, where it is quickly killed in a most vile manner. Watch for the scene, then hit “PAUSE” when you see the turtle in fishing line, and declare a break to your viewers, fast-forwarding when the kids run off for a snack or the bathroom. They really don’t need to see it. At any age.

You can visit a web site set up by the filmmaker, and help the good fight by making a donation, or by becoming involved in other ways. Yeah.

SavingSharks.com
And Sharkwater.com

*A search online for this fact was fruitless, except for an About.com page that cited research showing that, “in 1995, for example — the most recent year for which I was able to find an accounting of deaths due to vending machine tipovers — two people died as a result of being crushed by falling soda machines in the U.S., as compared to zero shark-related deaths in the same twelve-month period.”

THE SNOW WALKER (PG)

Not only did I not get to as many Halloween movies as I would have liked, but I haven’t been doing much at all in the way of film writing for KidsFlix, as I’ve been a bit distracted with the election. My volunteering time has cut a bit into my other writing, that which pays the bills, and so the blog has taken a back seat.

But today, before I run off to another phone bank fest, I thought I’d whip out a quick write-up on a movie I was reminded about the other day... it’s about fighting the odds, and surviving in the face of deep adversity. It’s also about people from vastly different cultures coming together, learning from each other, and helping each other.

I’m hoping it’s a reflection of the outcome of November 4, let’s be honest.

Anyway, the movie is Canadian, and it’s called The Snow Walker (2003). I’ve mentioned it to a surprising number of parents who don’t know it, and am delighted to recommend it here. (If you live in cold, snowy winter climates, get it now before the last thing you want on your TV screen is more snow!)

This is a beautiful, lush, mature film, based on the short story "Walk Well, My Brother" by Farley Mowat. It stars native Inuit, a sprinkling of Canadian actors (the only “known” name in the cast is American actor James Cromwell), and of course incredibly gorgeous landscapes and cinematography.

Lead actress Annabella Piugattuk, an Inuit with very little acting experience, was cast in the role partially due to her knowledge of traditional culture, such as hunting and survival techniques, and to her fluency in both English and Inuit. She is fantastic as the ailing villager who survives a crash landing in a small plane, along with the hothead pilot (Barry Pepper), who has agreed to take the sick girl to a nearby hospital. He’s a supplies pilot, flying around the high arctic, delivering food and other necessities to people in remote places, but he doesn’t know much about what it takes to actually survive out there on the icy tundra.

To the director’s credit, neither character is cartoonishly stereotyped; they are human, armed with all the traits that both help us and hurt us as we make our way through life, learning as we go. The struggle for survival is told with humor, compassion and suspense, and it makes for very successful cinematic escape.

It has a strong PG-rating, meaning there is unappealing adult behavior (racism, booze), harsh language, some blood and gore (skinning animals, finding dead bodies), and is not for younger kids. I believe K was about nine when we watched, and it was fine, but I felt it was right on the cusp of being too much for him. I might also add here that the film starts off just a tad slow, especially for the kiddies who are used to fast-moving animation and things exploding every 30 seconds on the screen... but it quickly becomes very engrossing, very entertaining and very, very satisfying.

ENCOUNTERS AT THE END OF THE WORLD (G)

Werner Herzog is one of my favorite directors, period. He can be erratic and overblown, yes, but he is inarguably a deep thinker, outrageously creative and attacks his art with a ferocious, focused, almost rabid passion. He is, likely, a bit insane.


Encounters at the End of the World, which may be his first G-rated film ever, piqued my interest immediately, and I was rather excited by the prospect of taking K to see a Herzog film (I’m sure I’ll force Fitzcarraldo on him before he’s ready for it; he wants to see Grizzly Man, but I’m holding off on that, as great as it was.). We missed a showing of End of the World at our (lone) little rep theater in the area, due to a dead car battery, and when it showed later in the Big City, it was showing at a theater that I find so physically uncomfortable (let’s say, repulsive) that I’m on a personal boycott of the place.

So, I resigned myself to renting it, and watching it on a small screen at home (so wrong!), and promptly put it on our Netflix list.

Imagine my surprise when I saw a listing for it at a wonderful new space in our area, one that shows films and occasionally hosts live events, while also serving pretty good food. There it was, a Saturday matinee. Off the three of us went.

So, here is the good news and bad news about Encounters at the End of the World.

First, the good news: it’s a wonderfully, fully-Herzogian adventure, replete with colorful characters (what kinds of people end up at the Antarctic, at the very edge of the earth?) who tell endlessly entertaining stories (what are they doing there? what brought them there?), and, of course, there is impossibly beautiful cinematography: Antarctic scenery resembling moonscapes, and underwater shots of sea life and topography that simply turn the world upside down.

Herzog somberly makes clear, early in his narration, that he was not intending, by any means, to make “another film about fuzzy penguins.” Funny, that’s not something we think Herzog is even capable of.

The bad news: it’s a bit long (even husband D – also an avid Herzog admirer – grumbled toward the end, “It should be over now”) and the interviews with the characters who live there probably appeal, in all honesty, more to adults than to kids. There are also hilariously Herzogian moments (that are a bit problematic for the kiddies) such as when Herzog asks a scientist questions such as, “Have you observed a segment of the penguin population that is gay?” and (imagine Herzog’s thick, intimidating accent here) “Do penguins ever just go insane?” (At which point D and I howled with appreciation for our favorite German filmmaker.) Insane penguins? Leave it to Herzog!

Of course, Herzog then proves we are laughing because we are heartless, shallow people. To prove the depths of possible penguin insanity, the segment ends with a classic Herzog moment, a heartbreaking shot of a confused, lone penguin, heading in the wrong direction while his buddies follow their instincts and waddle off to the ocean. “He faces 5000 long miles to the other coast, and will most certainly die,” Herzog intones mournfully.

One of the scientist’s answers about “gay” behavior involved an explanation about how some female penguins exhibit behavior called “prostitution," which is only distantly related to the human behavior as we know it . You can see how you would likely have some questions coming from your kids that you might not want to tackle at that very moment.

Do I recommend Encounters at the End of the World? Unequivocally, yes. Oh, for your kids? Well, it depends. Son K was sliding around in his chair and sighing audibly towards the end (ok, honestly, he even started shooting me looks that implied, “WHY AM I HERE?”), and while he is physically a very active (hyperactive we might admit) kid who has a hard time sitting still, he has managed to get through numerous films that aim a bit higher than the usual kid fare does. My guess is that kids over 12 may enjoy this the most, and get the most out of it, and if yours are a bit cerebral and don’t need explosions or cool special effects every fifteen minutes, you might give it a try at any age (again, if you’re willing to deal with some delicate issues along the way).

Personally, I was as happy as a skittering, Antarctic clam to sit through it, and am already looking forward to Herzog’s next adventure.

DUMA (PG)

Duma is a charming and emotional movie about an orphaned cheetah (Duma, which is Swahili for "cheetah"), and the young boy, Xan, who adopts him and ultimately comes to the difficult decision that he must return the animal to its true home, where Duma can “be fully alive.” With a bit of family strife as the backdrop, Xan takes off on his own in his dad’s motorcycle, with Duma riding shotgun, on the adventure of a lifetime, set in stunningly beautiful South Africa.

The journey to the Erongo Mountains will take many days, and is hundreds of miles from Xan’s home, and along the way they encounter a mysterious, wandering stranger (friend or foe?), furious river rapids, crocodiles, lions and deadly poisonous threats. The terrain – lush jungle, scorched salt flats, the unfriendly scrub of the Kalahari Desert – makes for some incredible scenery, and it also, of course, serves up countless moments of danger.

Hope Davis is the distraught mom, and Campbell Scott is the dad, fighting his own battle to stay alive. Xan is played by an actor named Alexander Michaletos, and is captivating as the brave and conflicted boy, trying so hard to do what he knows is right.

The director is Caroll Ballard, who also did the wonderful Flyaway Home, which I’ll write about another time. (But do put it on your list of must-sees!)

Duma is rated PG for “mild adventure peril.” It’s a pretty safe movie for the young ones in terms of other undesirable elements, and the “peril” itself is not presented in an unreasonably heightened way. Good judgment and sound decision-making are underlying themes, and overall the movie is a satisfying experience, with plenty of visual beauty. It also won the 2006 Genesis Award for a Family Feature Film, which recognizes the entertainment industry for efforts in animal awareness.

WHITE FANG (PG)

Last in our trio of "snow dog" movies, we have White Fang (1991), another Jack London story put to film. Also set in Alaska during the Gold Rush, Jack (a young Ethan Hawke) sets off to find gold on his deceased father’s claim, but runs into some real bad guys and an intriguing dog (half wolf) along the way.

While it’s basically the well-worn story of the bond between man and dog, there is more to it (clear themes of friendship, trust, good and bad, etc.), and, again, for a Disney movie, it has a mature sophistication about it that sets it apart. That said, it’s also for older kids, definitely 10 and up. There is a bit of violence and some unseemly dead bodies and threatening situations that are surely not meant for the younger set. Any of these would do well on a cold winter night, with a cuppa hot cocoa to wash down the popcorn.

(Or better yet, watch them on a hot summer night... they’ll help cool everyone down!)

EIGHT BELOW (PG)

A "snow dog" movie that’s difficult to negatively pick apart is Eight Below (2006). This is a superb telling of a story about a professional guide at a scientific research center in the Antarctic and his sled dogs, and the terrible ordeal they face on a particular expedition. (And, yes, it's a Disney film, but it doesn't feel like one!)

Actually, that’s about half the movie, with the other half concentrating on the fate of the dogs, which are left behind at the center when everyone evacuates due to a deadly storm. There’s no room on the plane for the hardworking canines, and their abandonment is difficult for everyone, including the viewer. We follow the guide as he goes through the painful process of finding his beloved dogs.

I remember getting choked up a few times watching this movie, but some reviewers have referred to it as too manufactured or formulaic.

They’re just heartless.

CALL OF THE WILD (PG)

A while back, we embarked on seeing a trio of films that I refer to as “snow dog” movies. Kids seem to love this genre, with themes of adventure, bravery, and loyalty played out by good guys, bad guys, and beautiful dogs, unfolding amidst a gorgeous natural setting which threatens to turn hostile at any given moment. Parents shouldn’t mind these films, either; the cinematography is usually breathtaking, and there’s a teeny bit of an edge to keep you interested. Of course, the underlying moral message is always helpful, too.

One thing we do mind, however, is bad acting, and that will take us right into our first, and least favorite of the trilogy here.

The 2000 film adaptation of Jack London’s “Call of the Wild” is weak. Weak in all regards (except the cinematography) and especially the acting, which felt particularly amateur. Having read the book so long ago that I don’t remember details, I relied on K for feedback on this front; according to him, the film was very different from the book. (We have no problem with that, I’m just pointing it out.) IMO, it sagged a bit; the acting bugged me; the dialog was sub-par, although not totally awful; character development was lacking.

Its one redeeming feature is the storyline about a rather unlikable city slicker spectator and his sister, who put themselves and their guide, Miles (and beloved dog Buck), in critical danger, caught up in Gold Rush fever in Alaska. K glommed onto the man’s buffoonery pretty quickly, and was dutiful in noting every bad decision, made for selfish, greedy reasons. (Aw, it makes you proud, doesn’t it?!)

There is a bit of violence and tension -- a grisly dog fight, a moment of drunken stupidity in a saloon, and a rather intense death at the end of the movie – so it may best viewed by kids upwards of 10 years or so. Keegan gave it a thumbs up.

There are two other versions of Call of the Wild: a 1972 Chuck Heston and a 1935 Clark Gable version. Both have mediocre reviews on Netflix, but I’m interested in trying the Clark Gable version.

MY SIDE OF THE MOUNTAIN (G)

(1969)

We read the book “My Side of the Mountain,” written in 1959 by Jean Craighead George, when K was six or seven years old. He re-read it on his own a few years later; in fact, he read the other two in the trilogy, “On the Far Side of the Mountain” and “Frightful's Mountain,” as well. I often think the book is partly to credit (or blame) for the first wave of his obsession with building forts (to “live in”) and lighting fires with flint and steel. He actually asked one day, when he was nine or ten, if we could all go on a hike somewhere in a nearby forest, and then just let him go off on his own, with his compass, his knife and flint. He had some hare-brained idea about how we would all meet up at the end of the day.

I laughed and laughed. He stormed off. Probably lit a fire somewhere I don’t want to know about.

(Before I forget, the Discovery channel shows “Survivor Man” and “Man vs. Wild” are to credit/blame with the second wave of K’s survivor fascination. If you have younger kids, and perhaps especially boys, you need to know that once they start watching these shows they honestly think that with a couple of handy tools in their pocket and the vivid memory of Bear Grylls eating the raw testicles of a camel that’s been dead for a day or two that they can survive anywhere on their own. And they will beg you to try.)

(I guess we missed a boat of sorts by not signing up for Boy Scouts. But we have issues there. So.)

“My Side of the Mountain” is the story of a 12-year-old boy named Sam who decides to trek off on his own to the wilderness after the family camping vacation is cancelled. He’s extremely bright and resourceful, unreasonably rational for his age (truly), and feels the need to prove he can do everything on his own. “That was part of it,” he narrates, “to see if I could do it all on my own.” He’s also a bit obsessed with Thoreau, and the concept of learning about nature by being one with it.

We rented this film with full anticipation of loving it, but, sadly, I’m here to tell you it moves as slow as sap running from a maple, and for some reason, it just did not hold K’s interest as much as I’d expected. We broke it up into three – three – viewings, which is unheard of in our house. (You just don’t interrupt movies!)

The acting is a bit bland in that 1960s way – in fact, the tone sometimes reminded me of “Leave it to Beaver” – and as charming as the boy star (Ted Eccles) and his little homestead in the woods was, something was missing. (No, not special effects!) The scenes where he trained his falcon chick Frightful to grow into a killing machine in order to bring home some bacon were pretty well done; I found myself wondering how long it took the actor to get comfortable with the bird and his pet raccoon, Gus, and the whole animal training process. The scenery is gorgeous (it was filmed in Canada) and the long cold winter is depicted with realistic harshness.

Still, I barely got K to finish the thing, and that’s saying something. It’s hard to think of movies he’s never finished, or didn’t want to finish.

I give My Side of the Mountain a slightly reluctant thumbs up. It’s earned lots of rave reviews from families and kids on film web sites, and I can’t ignore that. Perhaps if we’d rented this back when the books were exciting our son, we’d have fared better. It might be a simple age thing, too; the quiet tone and slower pace of the film may better speak to younger viewers.

If your kids are totally into the whole living-off-the-land adventure, and have enough patience to, say, actually tie their shoe properly or sit through an entire dinner without getting up seven times (two very arbitrary measures of a childs’ focus and tenacity, I know), you might give it a try.

And if you and your kids haven’t read this classic novel, put it on your list!

Caveat for ultra-sensitive kids who may really be into the book and therefore have a deeper attachment to these characters (hey, I’m trying to provide a service here): The film deviates from the book at several points, but one slightly disturbing creation was that Sam’s beloved Frightful meets his maker in a sudden, brief and violent moment. Honestly, what purpose did that serve in the film? None that we can think of.