I am a professed baby junkie. Merely seeing a baby or toddler in person or in a picture elates and uplifts my mood and emotions. Therefore, I predicted that I would appreciate and savor the "Babies" DVD I purchased recently. My prediction satisfyingly came true. "Babies" is a contemplative but absorbing celebration of these remarkable beings.
The movie is essentially a "What if" stylistic experiment. What if we followed the broad outlines of a wildlife documentary, but with the subject being young human children instead of lions or elephants? What if we select a global approach by focusing on four children (one African, two Asian, and one North American) and compare and contrast their babyhood? What if we improved on the wildlife documentary and eliminated the distracting narration and commentary that purports to understand the subjects' motivations? What if we simply sit and watch the babies do their things and draw our own individual conclusions? It's a daring, risky approach and will not appeal to all cinematic tastes.
For example, if you prefer fast-paced, action-oriented documentaries, you probably won't enjoy "Babies". If you prefer deliberate, observant, leisurely paced stories, you will probably be more partial to the story. Of course, if you adore children, you will find paradise. The babies are the Namibian girl Ponijao, the Mongolian boy Bayarjargal, the Tokyo girl Mari, and the San Franciscan girl Hattie. We see all four during the interval from birth to about one year old. We see them interacting with their parents, their siblings, other babies, and their environment. They all exhibit the behaviors we expect from babies: wonderment, curiosity, contentment, frustration, fear, and triumphant satisfaction. We see them grow in experience and independence. Even though they may occasionally face an overzealous sibling, a scary gorilla and tiger, or a boring Native American spirit exhortation, all the babies exhibit spunk, intelligence, perception, and resilience. It's fun, charming, and even emotional to watch them react to something, and sometimes not even react at all as life swirls around them. I simply loved them all, and was relieved and gratified that their parents seemed to do so as well.
Of course, the babies' socioeconomic backgrounds run the gamut from the "primitive" savanna to the ultra-modern city, with Bayarjargal's milieu being an unusual hybrid of Mongolian farming steppe and technologically advanced yurt (including a laptop computer and satellite dish). But as other posters have commented, babies really don't care a whit about wealth and possessions. All that matters is that they receive love, support, and guidance, and they certainly do. Also, each baby is allowed a certain amount of freedom to explore his or her surroundings; no parent, when we occasionally see them, acts as a jailer or micromanager. They step in only when they have to (i.e. the baby is in danger of being hurt - which very seldom happens in the movie).
I think part of a baby's appeal is their ultimate mystery. Sure, we can usually figure out (from coos and cries) whether a baby is happy, sad, or frightened. But when they simply stare at something, what are they thinking? Nobody, not even the baby, really knows. I appreciate that "Babies" keeps silent and non-judgmental about that mystery and does not indulge psychological theories and speculation about the children's' motivations. However, the viewer may come up with some of his or her own.
The movie rotates more or less in sequence among the four children, which all more or less receive equal time. Again, the movie is non-judgmental about the children's' race and circumstances; for example, it does not wring its hands about Ponijao's "poor" upbringing or tout Mari's and Hattie's formative advantages (e.g. baby yoga classes). Babies don't care about those things and the movie gently reminds us that adults shouldn't either. All that matters are the love babies receive and the pleasure they give in return.
"Babies" made me chuckle with the children's unself-conscious antics but even more often made my eyes mist with their mere presence. The movie reminds us that babies are one of nature's (God's) true masterpieces and that their existence is a comforting reminder of humanity's ultimate immortality.
The movie is essentially a "What if" stylistic experiment. What if we followed the broad outlines of a wildlife documentary, but with the subject being young human children instead of lions or elephants? What if we select a global approach by focusing on four children (one African, two Asian, and one North American) and compare and contrast their babyhood? What if we improved on the wildlife documentary and eliminated the distracting narration and commentary that purports to understand the subjects' motivations? What if we simply sit and watch the babies do their things and draw our own individual conclusions? It's a daring, risky approach and will not appeal to all cinematic tastes.
For example, if you prefer fast-paced, action-oriented documentaries, you probably won't enjoy "Babies". If you prefer deliberate, observant, leisurely paced stories, you will probably be more partial to the story. Of course, if you adore children, you will find paradise. The babies are the Namibian girl Ponijao, the Mongolian boy Bayarjargal, the Tokyo girl Mari, and the San Franciscan girl Hattie. We see all four during the interval from birth to about one year old. We see them interacting with their parents, their siblings, other babies, and their environment. They all exhibit the behaviors we expect from babies: wonderment, curiosity, contentment, frustration, fear, and triumphant satisfaction. We see them grow in experience and independence. Even though they may occasionally face an overzealous sibling, a scary gorilla and tiger, or a boring Native American spirit exhortation, all the babies exhibit spunk, intelligence, perception, and resilience. It's fun, charming, and even emotional to watch them react to something, and sometimes not even react at all as life swirls around them. I simply loved them all, and was relieved and gratified that their parents seemed to do so as well.
Of course, the babies' socioeconomic backgrounds run the gamut from the "primitive" savanna to the ultra-modern city, with Bayarjargal's milieu being an unusual hybrid of Mongolian farming steppe and technologically advanced yurt (including a laptop computer and satellite dish). But as other posters have commented, babies really don't care a whit about wealth and possessions. All that matters is that they receive love, support, and guidance, and they certainly do. Also, each baby is allowed a certain amount of freedom to explore his or her surroundings; no parent, when we occasionally see them, acts as a jailer or micromanager. They step in only when they have to (i.e. the baby is in danger of being hurt - which very seldom happens in the movie).
I think part of a baby's appeal is their ultimate mystery. Sure, we can usually figure out (from coos and cries) whether a baby is happy, sad, or frightened. But when they simply stare at something, what are they thinking? Nobody, not even the baby, really knows. I appreciate that "Babies" keeps silent and non-judgmental about that mystery and does not indulge psychological theories and speculation about the children's' motivations. However, the viewer may come up with some of his or her own.
The movie rotates more or less in sequence among the four children, which all more or less receive equal time. Again, the movie is non-judgmental about the children's' race and circumstances; for example, it does not wring its hands about Ponijao's "poor" upbringing or tout Mari's and Hattie's formative advantages (e.g. baby yoga classes). Babies don't care about those things and the movie gently reminds us that adults shouldn't either. All that matters are the love babies receive and the pleasure they give in return.
"Babies" made me chuckle with the children's unself-conscious antics but even more often made my eyes mist with their mere presence. The movie reminds us that babies are one of nature's (God's) true masterpieces and that their existence is a comforting reminder of humanity's ultimate immortality.