Pandas: Far more than mere pandemonium

Pandas (2018) • View trailer 
Four stars. Rated G, and suitable for all ages
By Derrick Bang

The English language isn’t up to the challenge of discussing this film.

The usual go-to words — cute, adorable — simply aren’t sufficient.

In the safety of China's Chengdu Panda Base, American
conservation biologist Jake Owens soon develops an
impressive bond with Qian Qian, a young, captive-born
female panda that he and fellow scientists hope to
introduce into the wild.

Pandas clearly is being marketed on the basis of its awwwwwww factor; IMAX and Warner Bros. would be foolish to do otherwise. And, yes, this 43-minute charmer spends considerable time with the poignant and often hilarious antics of roly-poly infant pandas: sequences that we wish could run longer, because they’re just too, ah, cute for words.

But the best IMAX documentaries also draw their emotional power from a compelling through-story, and this one’s no different. Filmmakers David Douglas and Drew Fellman — who also brought us 2011’s Born to Be Wild and 2014’s Islands of Lemurs: Madagascar — focus on China’s noble effort to avert catastrophe, by reversing a man-made crisis.

Specifically, the decline of the giant panda population, as a result of their traditional habitat being drastically reduced by human development. As narrator Kristen Bell soberly informs us, toward the beginning of this film, roughly 300 pandas currently are in captivity in facilities (zoos, etc.) around the globe, and only about 2,000 remain in the wild. And the latter are divided into isolated pockets within central China’s Sichuan, Shaanzi and Gansu Provinces, thereby minimizing gene pools and preventing the desired cross-breeding that would enhance hybrid vigor.

A potential solution, long in coming, began with a captive breeding program at the Chengdu Panda Base, where scientist Hou Rong has been director of research since 1994. Douglas and Fellman begin their film by introducing her, along with the most recent infants — some reference sources insist on the term “cupboard,” for a group of pandas — among the more than 200 baby pandas that have been born and raised during her tenure.

The current goal of this soft-spoken “Panda Mom” is to facilitate the release, into the wild, of at least some of her clinic-bred charges. Her desire to maximize the chances of success takes her across the globe, to the woods of northeast New Hampshire, in order to collaborate with Ben Kilham. Back in 1992, he and his sister Phoebe were granted a state license to rehabilitate orphaned black bear cubs; since then, the Kilham Bear Center has successfully returned more than 160 cubs to the wild.

We’re granted intimate access not only to the eight-acre enclosure that provides these cubs with everything they need to socialize, climb trees and forage for food; but also to the endearingly boisterous, yet oddly intimate process of bottle-feeding three tiny cubs in the Kilham living room.

Humpback Whales 3D: Awe-inspiring

Humpback Whales 3D (2015) • View trailer 
Four stars. Suitable for all ages
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 8.26.16

In a film laden with captivating facts — an impressive number of them, for a documentary that runs only 40 minutes — none is more unexpected than the revelation that the world’s attitude about whale-hunting was changed, almost overnight, by ... a record album.

Call it the world's most impressive belly-flop: Few things are more breathtaking than the
sight of a 55-foot, 50-ton whale propelling its massive body almost entirely out of the
water, in order to slap back onto the surface, accompanied by a thwomp with the
volume of a sonic boom.

1970’s Songs of the Humpback Whale, produced by biologist and environmentalist Roger Payne, culminated his three-year study of songs and vocalizations among these mighty ocean mammals. It became the best-selling environmental album in history, sharing not only the majestic beauty of these oddly melodic sounds, but proving that they represented a complex means of communication.

The subsequent “Save the Whales” movement, galvanized by this “discovery” of highly evolved whale culture, resulted in the 1972 United Nations Conference on the Human Environment’s global moratorium on commercial whaling (observed to this day by all but three countries: Japan, Iceland and Norway).

That’s an impressive result, for a rather unusual pop LP.

These magnificent creatures are celebrated in the MacGillivray Freeman IMAX documentary, Humpback Whales: a gorgeously filmed production with all the hallmarks of previous efforts such as Grand Canyon Adventure, Dolphins, Coral Reef Adventure and many others. Indeed, MacGillivray Freeman productions have long been the crown jewels of IMAX nature documentaries, and this one’s no exception.

Director Greg MacGillivray and his team of giant-screen cinematographers patiently recorded humpback behavior and migrations in the waters off Alaska, Hawaii and most particularly the remote islands of Tonga, which has enjoyed its own success with a local whale restoration program. Via commentary given just the right degree of reverence and Scottish lilt by off-camera narrator Ewan McGregor, we learn why humpbacks “perform” these diverse and haunting songs, and why they migrate up to 10,000 miles, round-trip, every year.

The always amazing footage is given greater dramatic heft by composer Steve Wood’s exhilarating score, which mixes humpback songs with an orchestral blend of piano, synthesized sounds and the energetic themes of Canadian folk guitarist Calum Graham. Wood also choreographs several sequences to the rousing 2014 pop anthem “Best Day of My Life,” which echoes the irrepressible bliss that we can’t help experiencing, while watching the humpbacks whirl, twirl and leap with abandon.

Needless to say, MacGillivray gives us plenty of “money shots” of these 55-foot, 50-ton, unexpectedly acrobatic animals propelling their massive bodies almost entirely out of the water, in order to slap back onto the surface, accompanied by a thwomp with the volume of a sonic boom.

Such scenes are awe-inspiring, to say the least.

Monkey Kingdom: Too much monkey business

Monkey Kingdom (2015) • View trailer 
Three stars. Rated G, and suitable for all ages
By Derrick Bang

At its better moments, particularly with respect to the harsh caste system practiced by its small toque macaque stars, this new Disneynature docu-drama is an engaging blend of intimate footage and informative commentary.

Our macaque heroine, Maya, is caught during a quiet
moment with her newborn son, Kip. Sadly, keeping that
little guy well-nourished is destined to become a
constant problem.

Sadly, these “earnest” sequences are blended with the sort of contrived, slapstick nonsense that epitomized bad Disney comedies from the late 1960s and early ’70s: the moments when mischievous animals broke into a paint factory, or some poor housewife’s kitchen, and dumped/destroyed all the contents in a ghastly — but always colorful — display of dripping, gooey glop.

I’d have thought Disney had moved beyond such twaddle, particularly given the thoughtful, intelligent approach of its initial nature documentaries: Earth, Oceans, Wings of Life and several others. But no, director Mark Linfield signals his intentions right from the top, as his simian protagonists run, leap and swing into view accompanied by ... Tommy Boyce and Bobby Hart’s theme to the 1960s TV series The Monkees, performed by no less than ex-Monkee Micky Dolenz.

The film never fully recovers.

Indeed, such “lighter” elements mock what should have been a serious subject. This ain’t the ’60s any more, folks; informed, sophisticated productions from BBC America and the Discovery Channel have taught us to expect much, much more from nature documentaries.

Yes, toque macaque are cute — in an unusual sort of way — and their behaviors can be hilarious. But that doesn’t justify a trivial tone and unnatural “storyline” that insults our intelligence, while minimizing the very real issues that constantly imperil this species, above and beyond the jealously guarded cliques within a single tribe.

What ... just because they’re monkeys, they don’t merit the same respectful treatment accorded, say, the ursine stars of the Disneynature film Bears? Puh-leaze.

We meet our small, furry heroine, Maya, at the beginning of an average day for her tribe. She endures at the bottom of a rigid social order governed by an alpha male named Raja and his three bitchy concubines, collectively known as “the Sisterhood.” The tribe lives in one of the many deserted ancient cities dotting the northeastern portion of the island nation of Sri Lanka. The stone ruins serve as both playground and sanctuary, as does the commanding “Castle Rock” from which Raja often surveys his domain.

As a “low-born” member of the tribe, Maya must be content with meager leftovers when it comes to food, water and shelter. Raja, his mates and their offspring are privileged to nibble on the ripest figs at the top of their most cherished lunch spot; lesser tribe members are found on the tree’s progressively lower branches, where the figs aren’t as tasty. Maya isn’t even permitted in the tree; she must scavenge discarded bits from the ground below.

Flight of the Butterflies: Truly soars

Flight of the Butterflies (2013) • View trailer 
Four stars. Rating: G, and suitable for all ages
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 9.13.13

Nature is always awesome, but sometimes she’s jaw-droppingly unbelievable.

Then, if we’re lucky — if the right wildlife saga intrigues the right filmmakers — the results can be mesmerizing.

Monarch butterflies lay eggs, emerge as caterpillars, grow until they "hibernate" in a
chrysalis and then emerge as adult butterflies to begin the cycle anew. You probably
thought this entire process occurs within a relatively small geographical radius, such as
within our city limits, right? Way, way wrong ... as this film demonstrates.

Luc Jacquet’s March of the Penguins wasn’t merely a marvelous film and the surprise hit of the 2005 movie season; it also was a Hollywood game-changer, proving that well-made documentaries could hold their own against big-budget dramas. Walt Disney had demonstrated as much between 1948 and ’60, with his studio’s True-Life Adventures series, but — several generations later — the non-fiction genre had fallen out of mainstream favor, until Jacquet’s mind-bogglingly patient Emperor penguins came waddling along.

Out of favor, perhaps, but definitely not extinct.

IMAX theaters have been screening documentary shorts since 1971’s Tiger Child, slowly assembling an impressive library of titles that included hits such as 1984’s Grand Canyon: The Hidden Secrets, 1990’s Blue Planet and 1995’s The Living Sea. IMAX projects have grown even more impressive as filming techniques have improved, and the giant-screen format definitely came into its own with 1998’s one-two punch of Everest and T-Rex: Back to the Cretaceous.

Suddenly, IMAX movies were cool.

All of which brings us to Flight of the Butterflies, just now fluttering into Sacramento’s Esquire IMAX theater. And while these delicate winged insects admittedly aren’t as cute as tuxedo-clad penguins, they’re quite remarkable in their own right, as director Mike Slee’s 40-minute film makes abundantly clear.

At its core, Flight of the Butterflies is a lepidopterist’s mystery story, which Slee and co-scripter Wendy MacKeigan weave into a compelling depiction of the monarch butterfly’s unusual life cycle and amazing migratory habits.

Charles Foster Kane had his Rosebud; Fred Urquhart’s world changed as a result of PS 397.

And therein lies a tale...

To the Arctic: Awesome footage, sobering message

To the Arctic (2012) • View trailer
4.5 stars. Rating: G, and suitable for all ages 
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 4.27.12

Everybody falls in love with the up-close-and-personal footage of a mother polar bear and her two cubs, but my favorite sequence comes as the mom investigates a robot-controlled IMAX camera artfully concealed to resemble a floating chunk of ice.

With "land ice" breaking apart sooner each year, polar bears are forced to swim
much greater distances in order to hunt for the food needed to sustain not only
themselves, but their families. This mother polar bear has the additional
challenge of feeding two cubs; it's rare for more than one to survive this long.

The bear, not fooled by this subterfuge for a second, hauls the contraption out of the water — all this activity caught by a second camera — and casually pries the bits apart. The final act? The bear bats the now exposed, globe-shaped camera cover like a beach ball, before finally crushing it to a sad mechanical death.

Pretty darn funny.

And also quite illuminating: Clearly, polar bears aren’t merely ferocious — when necessary — they’re also ferociously intelligent.

To the Arctic is the newest awesome IMAX documentary from the filmmaking team of Greg and Shaun MacGillivray, who previously brought us The Living Sea, Dolphins and Grand Canyon Adventure: River at Risk. As might be surmised from the titles, MacGillivray films lean toward environmental activism, and this one is no different; To the Arctic is an unabashed plea for the world to pay more attention to the implacable effects of global warming.

The cause can be debated from now until doomsday — which, if naysayers continue to rule the argument, may well be the case — but the phenomenon itself is an established, observable fact that has a direct and dire impact on the polar bears, caribou, walruses, seals and birds profiled in this breathtaking film.

The summer Arctic ice pack has decreased in size by 25 percent since 1979; unless unchecked, it could disappear entirely by 2050. In the long term, the cold water run-off will supercharge the currents of the “great ocean conveyor belt” that moderates weather everywhere. Additionally, that missing ice cap no longer will function as a climate-balancing shield that reflects 80 percent of the sun’s energy back into space ... and, frankly, nobody fully knows what that might cause.

In the short term, as quite clearly depicted in this film, ice platforms — from which polar bears traditionally hunt seals — once extended for miles over the ocean. That’s no longer true; the earlier the ice melts, the more restricted the bears’ territory becomes, giving them limited access and less time to find seals, and farther to swim without rest.

The latter is hardest on cubs, which lack their mothers’ strength and stamina. We watch a mother and cub set out on just such a journey — a possible “journey to nowhere,” as narrator Meryl Streep calmly informs us — and when the mother eventually makes landfall, she’s alone.

Earth: Familiarity breeds disappointment

Earth (2007) • View trailer for Earth
3.5 stars (out of five). Rating: G, but awfully intense and grim for young viewers
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 4.30.09
Buy DVD: Earth • Buy Blu-Ray: Disney Nature Earth [Blu-ray]


Disney's Earth — the much-ballyhooed first release from DisneyNature, a new studio imprint that will focus on wildlife documentaries — is a bait-and-switch con job.

Nowhere in any of this film's self-congratulatory promotional information — and certainly not in any of the TV spots or movie theater previews — will you learn that this film is little more than "best of" highlights from the sumptuous 2006 Discovery Channel series, Planet Earth.

Even with their mother's care, only 50 percent of new polar bear cubs survive
their first year, and more are lost when they first leave their mother, to make
their way alone. The polar bears followed in Earth were filmed on Kong Karls
Land, a group of islands between the Barents Sea and the Arctic Ocean. In this
land, part of Norway, the "midnight sun" lasts from April 20 until Aug. 23,
and the polar night lasts from Oct. 26 through Feb. 15.

Indeed, this big-screen version was released in the United Kingdom in 2007, with Patrick Stewart replacing Sigourney Weaver as narrator. Here in the States, Stewart has been replaced by James Earl Jones. (That's Hollywood!)

Mind you, the already opulent photography looks even more stunning on the big screen, and directors Alastair Fothergill and Mark Linfield are to be congratulated for the magnificence and enormity of their accomplishment.

But I was expecting a new film, thank you very much, and I became increasingly puzzled by the sense of deja vu that accompanied last week's preview screening. Eventually, though, all doubts were erased: the spectacular slow-motion shot of a great white shark chomping into a seal was far too memorable, as was the chilling, disheartening saga of the desperate polar bear that tries unsuccessfully to make a meal of a walrus cub ... and, having failed, sinks onto the polar ice, closes its eyes and prepares to starve to death.

Arbitrary condensations of much larger works run many risks, and that's the first problem plaguing this edit of Earth: It's relentlessly harsh and depressing. Stretched out across 11 episodes and literally scores of individual animal stories, when originally broadcast in 2006, the grimmer aspects of "Nature's design" were easier to endure, as they were bookended by numerous lighter, happier and more triumphant narratives.

Here, though — with a running time of only 96 minutes — it feels like one sad conclusion after another: a white wolf running down a young caribou; a cheetah doing the same with a gazelle; a baby elephant so weakened during a trek with its mother through the inhospitable Kalahari Desert, and so blinded by dust, that it literally walks into a tree stump it can't see; another elephant overwhelmed by a starving pride of lions; the aforementioned shark attack; and, as a finale, the gloomy demise of the hungry polar bear.

Parents intending to bring small children to this film should think long and hard before doing so. The "cuteness factor" of several other scenes — polar bear cubs, Mandarin duck chicks making their first attempt at flight — is seriously undercut by all this trauma. The elephant sequences, in particular, are very hard to watch.

African Adventure — Safari in the Okavango: The ones that got away

African Adventure: Safari in the Okavango (2007)
Three stars (out of five). Rating: suitable for all ages
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 3.12.09



You can't help wanting to swat all the reeds away.

Director Ben Stassen's cleverest touch in his newest giant-screen IMAX production, African Adventure: Safari in the Okavango, was his decision to incorporate a "prow's-eye view" during much of the film.

Take a good look at this photo, because you'll get closer to a hippo here than
at any point in this largely disappointing film, which too frequently fails to
obtain — or provide — the "money shots" that characterize other, much
better nature documentaries.

As South African zoologist Liesl Eichenberger and wildlife filmmaker Tim Liversedge take their tiny craft through the weed- and reed-choked waterways of Botswana's Okavango Delta — a flooded region that can't help making American viewers think of the Florida Everglades — their passage is recorded, in part, by an IMAX 3D camera that has been mounted at the very tip of the boat, right at the waterline.

The resulting effect is akin to slowly swimming through these waters, and having to push aside the flora that sticks up from the water. Indeed, the camera lens itself plunges right into the reeds, which gently part as the boat moves forward.

The feeling of actually being there is beyond tantalizing; it's amazing how much this relatively simple little trick fools our brains as we sit comfortably in the darkened theater.

I wish the rest of the film were equally satisfying.

Granted, African Adventure: Safari in the Okavango is a welcome relief from the seemingly dozens of ocean- and underwater-themed IMAX films that have proliferated of late. It's a (mostly) above-ground excursion through a region of Africa that remains largely unknown to us outsiders. In fact, as the narrator informs us, the Okavango's comparative isolation — the degree to which it remained hidden from the rest of Africa, let alone the world — left it largely unexplored until fairly recently.

It's a fascinating ecological paradise: a flooded 20,000-square-kilometer maze of lagoons, channels and islands ... in the middle of an otherwise arid and inhospitable desert.

Eichenberger and Liversedge are entertaining guides; they know the region but aren't the slightest bit blase about its many wonders. Eichenberger's enthusiastic smile is particularly infectious.

But while Stassen's film is visually opulent and the subject matter quite fascinating, the 41 minutes pass so quickly that we're left hungry. To a degree, that's partly because of what the film doesn't show us.