When The Penguins Go Marching In

March of The Penguins is one of those rare documentaries that capture the attention of the public at large and find success as a cross-over to mainstream cinema. I was somewhat surprised to find that our local theaters were playing March of The Penguins and jumped at the chance to go see it.

It is simply beautiful in concept and in execution. From beginning to end the film is visually awe-inspiring. The warm familiarity of Morgan Freeman's narration lends an even more personal feel to the penguins' story. It is a story that, while many would call a story of life and death, can only be accurately be described as the story of life.

Through beautiful cinematography and unobtrusive narration, the filmmakers allow the penguins themselves to guide us on our journey. Our journey takes us not only from the sea to the breeding grounds and back again, but also from emotion to emotion deftly reminding us of the precarious balancing act that is life.

We watch in amusement as the penguins waddle toward their goal or drop to their bellies to scoot along, as if swimming across the ice. In wonder as they march 70 miles across a wasteland free from landmarks. We watch with feelings of love as the penguins bond with their mates and later with their newborn chicks. With horror as we see predators try to devour mothers who have returned to the sea to feed. With fear as we see winter's wrath come down upon the fathers as they try to guard the eggs from the cold. With exultation as the sun returns and the eggs begin to hatch. With outrage as another predator attacks defenseless chicks. Finally, as the chicks mature and venture into the sea for the first time, we watch with a feeling of peace, knowing that through the ups and downs, the pains and trials, things go on as they always have.

Until later...