babies, the movie

I've tried twice in the past 24 hours to write a review of this and given up. I have no idea how to say some of what I want to say without sounding like a douchebag who buys into the whole "noble savages" shit that pissed me off so much in Avatar or who is romanticizing abject poverty. Be that as it may, I am now going to persevere. And if you're reading this, I did!

In case you've been under a rock or something, let me tell you the premise of the movie. It's a documentary about the first year of life of four different infants, one American, one Japanese, one Namibian, and one Mongolian. There is no plot, no narration, no subtitling of the non-English dialogue. It's just babies. To like this film you need to a.) love babies and b.) find the cross-cultural stuff fascinating. In other words, you gotta be me, basically.

The American parents were from San Francisco and named their child "Hattie." That's all we need to say about that, right? You get the picture immediately. The Japanese couple seemed young, urban, and hip. The mom (and all her girlfriends) looked effortlessly chic and stylish in every frame; the dad spent an entire cell phone call shaking a rattle in front of the baby faithfully and ceaselessly to keep her amused without actually ever paying attention to her, which was pretty funny. The Mongolian family lived in this incredible yurt. From the outside, it looked like a tent. Um, with a big-ass satellite dish. Inside, it was beautiful, with all these gorgeous woven carpets and pretty furniture, most of which looked like it wouldn't fit in there when you saw the place from the outside. Not to mention Legos, cell phones, and two liter bottles of Coke. But they've been a nomadic people for a millennium or so, right? I guess you get damn good at tents. The father seemed to be off away working most of the time, so the mom was working awfully hard, taking care of cattle and goats and an infant and a toddler who tormented the younger brother with great delight at every opportunity.

But the Namibians? The father--in fact, all the adult males--seemed to be off too, herding or whatever it is they do. Meanwhile, the women seemed to be living this pretty chill lifestyle. Maybe it was just the editing, but we only saw one scene of the mom grinding grain. The rest of the time they were hanging out outside, chatting and laughing with their friends, sharing food amongst each other, keeping an eye on the kids (who were also keeping an eye on each other), nursing the babies including (I think, it was hard to tell) each other's. I don't mean to minimize that these people had *nothing* materially; certainly no satellite dishes and cell phones there. But everyone looked well-nourished. Everyone looked relaxed and happy and like they had each other's back. The Namibian baby was the smiliest little kid you ever saw. It really makes you think something is missing in modern industrial Western life. These women were not working 8 and 10 hours a day. They were not commuting. They were not spending hours a day cleaning house or fucking mowing their lawns. They were not being neurotic about OMG, is it alright to feed the baby now? OMG, the baby just put a handful of dirt in her mouth. OMG, the baby's french-kissing the dog (she did, it was hilarious). I'm sure they must worry and stress about something, because that's human nature, but there just did not seem to be the constant level of tension that most of us go through our privileged little lives with. Again, it might just be the editing, but these women were not yelling at their kids or seeming overwhelmed by them. (The diaper-less baby poops on your leg? You wipe it off. No harm, no foul.)

Part of it is probably the sense of community and that it seems like there's always someone there to help you out or be helped. But part of it has to be the lack of material stuff. The vast majority of our worries in this consumer society are driven by needing stuff, needing enough money to pay for our stuff, envy over other people's stuff or shame at not having the proper stuff, having worry and angst implanted in our brains by the media so we can be sold more stuff. It's so clear when you look at it, but so hard to do anything about. I mean, I am a hopeless case, too imprinted by now. If I lived in a tent, I'd want the satellite dish and the Legos. You?

xoxo