The Wild Robot

A helpful and benevolent domestic robot finds itself stranded in the wilderness, on an isolated island abounding with wildlife whom it initially can't comprehend.

It requires tasks, a role to fulfill, calling and purpose, industrious discipline, but the animals refer to it as a monster and tend to avoid making direct contact.

Except for an audacious fox who attempts to help it learn natural ways, after it uses its advanced programming to study the different languages the animals speak.

Unfortunately, one troubling day, while out and about doing this and that within the forest, it takes a tumble and accidentally falls on a nest of birds and kills the mother.

A baby survives however and now has no one to guide and nurture him, the harsh wilderness stepping in to potentially claim a helpless soul.

But the robot sees a task that can be fulfilled with warmth and friendship, the gentle nurturing of the chick through kind instruction and didactic teaching.

The fox hangs around and the oddball trio makes a name for itself in the wood.

The other animals curiously taking note.

Of the non-traditional heartwarming activities. 

If you like North American wildlife and tender stories with a tough edge, working within the tradition of Terminator films without the focus on armageddon, you may come to love The Wild Robot with sincere unabashed expressive levity, it's thoughtful and well-done and has something to offer both adults and children.

The robot's like a much less bellicose humble Terminator who eventually learns the value of life, and how hard work and honest self-sacrifice produce sweetly flowing constructive communities. 

It even builds a winter lodge that the animals stay in to keep warm together, it's like drinking-in-the-Jungle Book's-lagoon times 1,000 in terms of exceptional cool fictional animal gatherings (there's a lynx, an opossum [they cute!]), porcupines, a bear, raccoons, deer, everything, the wildlife coverage is phenomenal!). 

With the elegant message, the eloquent lesson to move beyond limits and calculation, by employing kindness and warmth and empathy to the curation of life wherever it's found.

The variety is multidimensional and it effectively blends technology and nature.

Please train A.I to love animals. 

How could they pose a systemic threat?

*I'll be watching this on a yearly basis for sure. Probably in the winter. Loved it!

Science is Fiction: 23 Films by Jean Painlevé

Long before David Attenborough started creating amazing nature documentaries, other visionary pioneering filmmakers set the cerebral stage, some not as fascinated by the more famous untamed beasties, like Jean Painlevé and Geneviève Hamon, who explored unheralded marine life for years.

They set their sights on the limitless sea and created a series of awe-inspiring films, creatively conjured and imaginatively nuanced in this chill and humorous compilation.

Instinctively driven by the unknown creatures whose otherworldly existence salutes biodiversity, they follow the lives of some of the most unique wild animals I've ever seen.

With instructive goals in mind and a desire to encourage aquatic acclimatization, to make one think of the billions of lives which exist beneath the waves while gazing outwards.

Indeed, parts of the ocean are rather similar to the sprawling concrete labyrinths we've come to know as cities, their complex interactive interconnected citizens having steadily evolved for resonant ages. 

I don't know what the turnover rate is for squirrel families on land in local forests, but the coolest thought is that the same squirrel fams have scamperingly existed in the same local woodland for thousands of generations (especially in areas with little to no human contact). 

That's why threats to endangered species acts are so shockingly foolish and cruel, the ways in which they ignore the millions of years these creatures have matured and developed alongside us.

They deserve to be left some space to roam as they freely have since they took formal shape, who are we to mess with the existence of outstanding miracles and flourishing distinction?

Painlevé and Hamon capture such life in its multivariable enriching abundance, and like poets unconcerned with fads they tenderly present the enticing unexpected.

I find with the plethora of contemporary nature documentaries illustriously abounding with fluent synergies, many of them don't lose sight of this focus and still present newfound insects etc.

Thus, in a program at times fiercely focused on lions and cheetahs, there's a pause in the imposing narrative to examine a bug or a bird or a rodent.

Like science-fiction and fantasy nature documentaries have changed remarkably since I was a wee lad.

With thanks to filmmakers like Painlevé and Hamon.

Who thought no doubt this is cool?

Ban octopus farms! 

🐙

Nanook of the North

I suppose there was a time when nature documentaries were something new, when there wasn't a plethora to choose from overflowing with the cute and cuddly?

The Nature of Things has always just kind of been there, chronicling away, but what were things like before the bold instructive multidisciplinary narratives of Suzuki?

There must be some cool books out there examining the history of naturalistic docs, it would be cool to have the chance to check them out some day.

If in existence, I wonder if any of them mention a nature documentary that predates Robert J. Flaherty's Nanook of the North (1922), with its adventurous bold endearing chill filmscapes?

It's not technically a nature documentary although it could be loosely classified as such, since it certainly presents a lot of critters, at home in their arctic environments.

The mighty walrus in its gargantuan splendour makes a thought provoking appearance, as does the lithe arctic fox, and the animate flip harp seal.

Unfortunately, the animals are being hunted, I imagine there was a different attitude concerning hunting in films back then, or that since it was likely something new, related armchair controversies had yet to develop, the subject inchoately generating previously unheard of sedate and shocked sensibilities, which must have opened up many critical heartlands, nevertheless, if you don't like hunting, beware.

I'm not a fan of watching animals being hunted but the Inuit live in a special set of circumstances. There is still an abundance of wildlife for them to hunt (lots of moose and deer elsewhere in Canada and Québec too) and why wouldn't you when a green pepper costs $8?

And it's a huge part of your ancient traditions?

Imagining what it must have been like to capture this independent footage is mind-boggling, inasmuch as they may have been filming in arctic conditions first hand at length without much to go on, with old school equipment that had to stand up to the elements, at a time when so much film was inherently experimental?

Was the equipment more durable back then?

Did they wear warmer gloves?

I imagine the film predates planned obsolescence by decades plus half a century.

Perhaps everything was built of sturdier stuff!

Or they just possessed more innate adventure?

Nanook of the North follows Nanook as he bravely hunts for his family, his vigorous spirit and inspiring good cheer promoting long-lasting effervescent wonders.

The soundtrack and intermittent silent narration add complementary uplifting currents, upon which the documentary glides, through wild unforgiving terrain.

I haven't seen many silent films but Nanook provides clear insights into the phenomenon, its cinematic awareness still relevant and captivating, as it bridges the divide between entertainment and instruction.

I loved watching them build their igloo from glacial disputatious scratch, then add farsighted clever home furnishings, there's no doubt they knew what they were doing.

Perhaps it's too happy-go-lucky considering the environmental extremes, but it still presents a spellbinding tale enriched through courageous endeavour.

I highly recommend it for film lovers in search of the pioneering documentary spirit.

It still radiates contemporary charm.

I'd argue it's truly timeless.

Born in China

The difficulties of growing up wild in China's rugged wilderness heartbreakingly yet adorably weather punishing and relaxing seasonal variabilities, as young animals and their parents dare to exist in Chuan Lu's Born in China.

The ancient mating rituals of the bold discerning chiru suggest itinerant proclivities can indeed encourage the maturation of confident resourceful young.

Raising a litter of snow leopards proves daunting for a feisty mother, as covetous rival families scout her bountiful terrain.

Bumbling about his newfound home provides a mischievous panda with the competencies and skills required to arboreally come of age.

Strife and mayhem chaotically confuse a growing golden snub-nosed monkey, due to his family's sudden disregard, and the lonely life he leads amongst his fellow abandoned thereafter.

And noble red-crowned cranes regally frame the different narratives with embowering transitory grace, alighting dignity in flight, for all of China's nimble creatures.

Come for the camaraderie, comb with the cuddles, beware nature's harsh realities, and flourish off the beaten path.

To be in possession of these extant verdant luscious inspiring treasures is indubitably a grand historical responsibility.

Soulful stewardship of such vast antiquities makes one feel millennial in the present, humble yet starstruck, with nascent habitual awe.

Definitely worth seeing.

Intergenerationally expansive.

Mèche Blanche, les aventures du petit castor (White Tuft, The Little Beaver)

After a furious current deposits him far away from the safety of his mother's lodge, Mèche Blanche, the little beaver, must find his way home. Lost in the wild with little knowledge of the necessary survival skills, Mèche Blanche scavenges and scurries his way through the forest, agilely avoiding a hungry pack of wolves, until he finds refuge with a grumpy old beaver. Meanwhile, back at the dam, Mèche Blanche's mother and sister hold down the fort while conducting a search and outwitting a scurrilous otter. Bears, lynx, raccoons, owls, porcupines, skunks, snakes, frogs and squirrels round out the cast as these beavers go about their business of beavering. Some may find it odd that Mèche Blanche couldn't fight harder against the current which deposits him so far away, or that a bear would cross a narrow beaver dam when it could simply swim past, but it's best not to question the designs of this legend for they bravely define a young hero's strength building quest, as he struggles against the odds and contends with adversity. Friendships are made, tests are passed, hardships endured, and mischievousness managed, as the courageous Mèche Blanche learns what it means to beaver.

Finding Farley

Leanne Allison's latest documentary Finding Farley provides brief glimpses into an epic journey across Canada, as Allison, life partner Karsten Heuer, two-year-old son Zev, and adventurous dog Willow travel from Canmore, Alberta, to Cape Breton. Their purpose is to meet Farley Mowat who has invited them to visit his summer home. Little did he know that after sending the invitation, they would canoe from Canmore to Hudson's Bay, travelling many of the same routes chronicled in People of the Deer and Never Cry Wolf, before taking a train to Québec and then sailing the rest of the way. They exchange letters via snail mail throughout within which Heuer oddly brings up the critical controversies surrounding Mowat's work while highlighting the ways in which they relive his colourful tales. It's fun watching the family interact with one another as pesky Zev spots beavers and owls and the voyage's physical demands test their will power. If Heuer (Being Caribou, Walking the Big Wild) is indeed inheriting Mowat's legacy, he's definitely proving his mettle, and it's a shame Allison didn't include more footage of the time her family spends with the Mowats during Finding Farley's final moments. A simultaneous homage to Mowat's work and forecast of Heuer and Allison's future, Finding Farley presents a filmic family friendly adventure deep into Canada's literary wilderness, pastorally illuminating a symbolic changing of the guard.