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Cute Can Only Get You So Far

By Dustin Rowles | Posted Under Film Reviews | Comments (42)



babies_documentary06-550x350.jpg

If there was ever such a thing as a critic-proof documentary, it has to be Babies. People that don’t like babies, that have never had babies, or have absolutely no interest in babies probably couldn’t be paid to sit through the documentary. On the other hand, people who have had babies, adore babies, or reflexively awwwww at every baby they see almost certainly believe that they’ll love Babies.

I’m not so sure, though. I took it upon myself to review Babies because I’m the site’s resident softie, because I somewhat recently had one, and because I can safely confess to digging babies. All the same, I didn’t care for Babies. It’s hard to believe such a thing about what is essentially an 80-minute video poem to ‘lil ones, but all the best bits were in the trailer. The other 78 minutes of filler material felt like watching someone else’s home videos. Once you’ve gotten, “Hey. That’s a cute baby,” out of your system, the documentary doesn’t have much else going for it. Yes, they’re adorable. But they don’t really do any tricks. Granted, if you’re into beautiful static cinematography and an interminable series of Hallmark close-ups of babies, you might get a little more mileage out of the documentary than I did.

Indeed, there’s no dialogue, no story, no conflict, and no explosions in Babies. The most intense moment of the entire film comes in wondering if a baby goat is going to react violently to the rough treatment a Mongolian tyke is giving it (it doesn’t). Everything else in the documentary is just: Look. A baby. It’s crawling. Or, it’s babbling. Or, it’s breastfeeding. Or, it just picked up a bone off the ground and is chewing on it. Is that safe, and why isn’t his mother trying to stop it?

Babies follows four infants from different parts of the world from birth until they’re walking (precariously). There’s one from Namibia, one from Mongolia, one from Tokyo, and one from San Francisco. We watch as they feed, they play, and they cry. There’s no narration, no structure, and even the score is sporadic. It’s just babies, man.

Moreover, for those under the assumption that Babies will offer some insight into child-rearing in other cultures or even act as a gentle critique of baby-raising methods in America, it doesn’t really do that, either. The setting is different for each baby, as are their playthings, but their actions are remarkably similar. One plays in a park; one plays in the desert; one plays in a yurt; and one plays in her mother’s touchy-feely yoga circle (actually, that one doesn’t play as much as try to escape, a feeling with which many of us could sympathize). It seems that no matter where a six-month old lives, he or she coos and cries in virtually the same manner. The fathers are rarely seen, and the mothers don’t get much airtime, either, so it’s hard to contrast the cultural upbringings aside from the existence of goats or domesticated felines in the babies’ proximity. .

Angelina Jolie once suggested that newborns are essentially “blobs” with no personality. That’s both accurate and inaccurate. To a casual observer who doesn’t spend a lot of time with the child (or a very busy mother with 8 kids and a nanny for each one), infants really are little more than cute little blobs of joyful life. But they do have strong personalities; you just have to be able to observe the baby long enough, play with it, hold it, and love it to detect that personality. Babies gives you a 20-minute glimpse at a full year of each baby’s life — that’s hardly enough to see the joy and the magic and the life and the beauty underneath the adorable little blob. All we see is cuteness, and while that’s enough fuel a Pampers commercial or a YouTube video, it loses its novelty early-on in a full-length documentary.









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Comments

The most intense moment of the entire film comes in wondering if a baby goat is going to react violently to the rough treatment a Mongolian tyke is giving it (it doesn’t).

SPOILERZ!!1!

Posted by: Patty O'Green at May 10, 2010 2:21 PM

I took it upon myself to review Babies because I’m the site’s resident softie

Say what, now? Who is Pajiba's hard ass, then? I always thought that was you.
And I love the bebehs. But I won't see this unless I need a pick me up.

Posted by: Brie at May 10, 2010 2:23 PM

What's the difference between a Porche and 100 dead babies?

I don't have a porche in my garage.

Posted by: superasente at May 10, 2010 2:26 PM

How do you get 100 babies into a mini-cooper?

A blender.

How do you get them out again?

Nachos.

Posted by: superasente at May 10, 2010 2:28 PM

What's orange and red and looks good on babies?

Fire.

I'm here all day, folks.

Posted by: superasente at May 10, 2010 2:28 PM

We watch as they feed, they play, and they cry.

A baby that doesn't shit, piss, puke, destroy, scream, cry, etc? Where do I get one of those?

Posted by: admin at May 10, 2010 2:35 PM

I want to put babies on spikes.

Posted by: mswas at May 10, 2010 2:36 PM

I want to know if you got some weird looks at the theater, as I don't imagine there were a lot of single male adults there. I probably would've thought you a major creep.

Posted by: figgy at May 10, 2010 2:37 PM

So yes or know, would this make a good double feature with Revolutionary Road?

Posted by: DoctorControversy at May 10, 2010 2:45 PM

figgy,

I would've immediately thought that he was forced to be there for some reason (film critic, lost a bet, thought it was an 80 minute monologue delivered by Vince Vaughn about the intricacies of "beautiful babies," etc.). Pervs going to see a movie about newborns are so far off my radar that I would dismiss it straightaway.

Of course, if I could identify Dustin on sight, I would've stood up and said, "Dustin! What the fuck, man? Let's sit together ya big gaywad!" I slip into fratboy-speak when fraternizing with those partially familiar to me, you see.

Posted by: Kballs at May 10, 2010 2:47 PM

DoctorControversy,

I normally don't do this, and I know I just posted about knowing what to do in an unknowable situation, but I know you misspelled something up there. I don't know exactly which word, but I know it's tickling my brain to know what it is.

Posted by: Kballs at May 10, 2010 2:50 PM

As someone who, whenever she kept coming back to Pajiba, saw the picture of the baby and went, "OOOO wook at da widdle babee wif his widdle chubby cheeks!" (E.G. The target demographic) I can say, this movie sounds boring. Most documentaries have some narrative. Really pretty picture does not a good movie make.

And superasente, thank you.

Posted by: Kayanne at May 10, 2010 3:10 PM

I might be in the minority here, but dead baby jokes make me want to a) hurl, and b) stab the joker in the dick.

So, you know, there's that.

Posted by: Patty O'Green at May 10, 2010 3:15 PM

What? There's no 'splosions in Babies? What kind of alien babies are they filming? Every time I babysat for my sister's kids, there were all kinds of 'splosions. Shit 'splosions that required diaper changing and a shower. Food 'splosions that require clothing changing and a shower. Toy 'splosions that required my sister clean up her house, because I'm sure not cleaning up this mess, and a shower.

Frankly, I would love to know how you handle a shit 'splosion in a yurt.

Posted by: BWeaves at May 10, 2010 3:17 PM

people who have had babies, adore babies, or reflexively awwwww at every baby they see almost certainly believe that they’ll love Babies.

I have had no babies, abhor babies, and reflexively Ewwwwwwwww at every baby I see.
Therefore I almost certainly believe that I will NOT love 'Babies.'
Remember that scene in My Cousin Vinny when Marisa Tomei's biological clock is TICKING (stomp) LIKE (stomp) THIS(stomp)!!!?
Whatever is the complete opposite of that is what mine is doing.
No Babies.

Posted by: Lindsey with an 'e' at May 10, 2010 3:42 PM

My biological *IS* ticking like this, and I still don't want to see this movie.

Unless we can Mystery Science Theater it.

Posted by: Stella at May 10, 2010 3:55 PM

That is too bad, the trailer looked like it might be interesting and provide insight into what it might be like to be raised in different parts of the world.

Ahh well, at least I can save time and maybe try and locate home movies of my own kid instead.

Posted by: Alli at May 10, 2010 4:08 PM

I have kids, who were babies, but I don't really like babies. They smell good sometimes and if they are sleeping they're ok, but otherwise they are just REALLY time-consuming and needy. I can't see myself being interested in watching this.
Plus, you know the babies in this documentary will just grow up and break your iPod.

Posted by: courtney at May 10, 2010 4:16 PM

That is the LAST time I make those jokes.

I do not want my penis stabbed again. No thank you.

Posted by: superasente at May 10, 2010 4:21 PM

Maybe it should have been in 3-D.

Posted by: zito at May 10, 2010 4:33 PM

Again!?!?!

Somebody has a good bar story. When your penis got stabbed the first time, did they need to give you a prosthetic one? And if that's case, does that mean you have a peg penis? And if that's the case, does that mean you've permanently got wood?

I'll see myself out.

Posted by: Kayanne at May 10, 2010 4:46 PM

Maybe it should have been in 3-D.

And the babies should be talking. Always with the talking babies.

Posted by: katy at May 10, 2010 4:50 PM

A Peg Penis and Neutacles.
Heee!

Posted by: Lindsey with an 'e' at May 10, 2010 5:18 PM

And if that's the case, does that mean you've permanently got wood?

I've permanently got splinter.

*wipes single tear from eye*

Posted by: superasente at May 10, 2010 5:46 PM

Let David Lynch remake this. The bone on the ground is a woolly mammoth's. Shots of the yoga circle will be intercut with crop circles, fly-covered doughnuts and disembodied hands. Laura Dern will brood on the park bench as a cello solo swells. The Mongolian baby will develop stigmata that spells out "Ghengis Khan". The baby goat will be named Bob. In the final shot, we see that the babies, crawling along the steps of the Louvre, have been zombie-fied. OR DO WE?

Posted by: ALR at May 10, 2010 6:14 PM

superasente, it's not the size of your splinter that counts, it's how far you wedge it in.

Posted by: esme at May 10, 2010 6:45 PM

it's not the size of your splinter that counts...

it's how much crying there is when it comes out.

Posted by: mswas at May 10, 2010 7:54 PM


-


Y'see that up there?
Yeah.

Posted by: superasente at May 10, 2010 8:03 PM

Here's the thing, though, super:
That - could really get in there deep. That's the type of splinter that you couldn't just get out with your hands or even with tweezers. You'd need to take a needle to it and really dig to get it out. That could do a lot of damage.

Also: Harder to stab (again).

Posted by: esme at May 10, 2010 8:08 PM

Zombies? Crop Circles? Woolly Mammoths? Have you ever seen a David Lynch movie, ALR? The only confluence of baby and Lynch that can exist is this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d-C1tpJRhFE

Actually, that would make a pretty hilarious mashup with the Babies trailer. God, why does David Lynch prompt such great trailer spoofs?

I gotta say though, this movie sounds kind of cool. Fuck narration, Microcosmos barely needed it.

Posted by: Franzibald at May 10, 2010 9:55 PM

I always laugh hysterically at the beginning of the trailer when the two babies are fighting and the baby on the right puts his arm across his forehead and melodramatically slumps onto the tiny, baby-sized table.
And then people at the theater look at me funny because I'm snorting at a crying baby. Jerks.

Posted by: MyySharona at May 10, 2010 10:32 PM

Babies are stupid.

I don't mean the idea of procreating is stupid in and of itself, I literally mean babies are stupid.

Like mind numbingly dumb.

Some people try to pass it off as just being inexperienced. But really, have you seen other animals? They are nowhere near as moronic as their human counterparts. "But Jay," I can hear you whine, "humans can do so many amazing thing that a platypus could not hope to dream of." I'm not talking a lack of knowledge that will be learned as you mature, I mean universally stupid behavior one can almost guarantee to see in someone's loinberry. Sure, people can do great thing, but babies do really fucked up things.

"Like What", you may ask?

Like a fascination over one's own poop. Seriously, have you ever seen a baby wombat smear itself with its own fecal material? No. Oh, yes primates use shit as ammunition when confronted in a fight, but that's survival. I mean reaching into their own warm and squishy Play-Doh Fun Factory and becoming a do-it-yourself shitfaced makeup session.

Almost every parent I've ever met from all walks of life has at least one shit-smearing tale of woe that convinced them if only for a moment that their bundle of joy would probably forever be associated with a job that involves a name tag and a hairnet.

And their habit of cramming everything into their mouths. They even jam things in there they already know they don't like...like dirt. And lint. And...well, shit again. It's a wonder choking isn't the #1 cause of death. Personally I think it's nature's way of culling the herd. The ones that survive, are the ones destined to do great things...or destined to work at a Jiffy Lube if they're just blessed with attentive parents.

And don't get me started with when they repeatedly and deliberately bang their head into things. They will use anything on hand and when that isn't enough they use the walls. Someone told me babies do that when they're tired because it gives them some kind of masochistic euphoria. Balderdash, I say. This and not the Isle of Galapagos is the best arguments for Charles Darwin's theories.

They have to be cute, or so many of them would be smothered from shame and shattered dreams.

Posted by: bleujayone at May 10, 2010 11:28 PM

They missed a golden opportunity here. There is inherent DRAMA in babyhood. There are problems. And from every review I've read and heard, it sounds like the filmmakers deliberately CUT every shred, even the merest WHISPER the possibility of a HINT of tension in the first year of the life of baby. Parents are in love with baby, yes -- but they're also exhausted, terrified, worn to a frazzle, ready to scream at each other... and those babies are screaming bloody murder a whole helluva lot of the time. And the poop -- my god, the poop.

It is NOT all sweetness and light. And if the filmmakers had been smart, they would have shown the WHOLE truth of it. The FEARS, the UGLIES -- interespersed, of course, with the OHMYGOD, that is just so fucking CUTEI'MGOINGTODIEFROMHOWCUTETHATIS.

Because, yes, the cute is unbelievable. And if there were just a way to convey what a baby's head SMELLS like? Gold.

But come on. Tell the WHOLE truth.

Posted by: Maryscott O'Connor at May 11, 2010 12:41 AM

Maryscott - nobody tells you the damn truth about childrearing, from labor (um, yeah - I most certainly DID NOT forget about it after seeing my precious angels for the first time, nor did my pissed-off ladyparts) to the frightening level of frustration and, yes, anger (at least in my case) that accompanies raising little ones.

For example, my two-year-old just threw herself on the ground and woke up everybody else in the household because I wouldn't permit her to play with my stationery. Is that really how I need to start my day?

Posted by: samantha t at May 11, 2010 6:54 AM

Dick stabbing threat be damned....

What's the difference between a truck load of bowling balls and a truck load of dead babies?

You can't use a pitch fork to unload the bowling balls...

Posted by: Diablo at May 11, 2010 7:50 AM

@samantha t - I agree that labor is hideously misrepresented in the media, but I have to admit, I did forget a lot of labor. I think the combination of pain, lack of sleep, and repression got rid of the nastier parts for me, because whenever I talk about it, my husband always fills in the gorier parts for me.

Also, my 2 year old has recently decided that while I'm putting his little brother down for a nap is the best time to come into his room, scream really loudly, flash the lights on and off, and try to climb on the both of us. So I'm right there with you.

Posted by: Courtney at May 11, 2010 9:16 AM

Courtney - ah, yes. The alleged love for the younger sibling when said sibling is getting ready to sleep. Girlfriend could give a shit about her little brother until he's a. getting attention from somebody else b. ready to lie down for a nap.

God bless her.

Posted by: samantha t at May 11, 2010 9:56 AM

Why did the dead baby cross the road?

Having a rabid fear of penis-piercing, I withhold the answer for someone with a tougher willy to reveal.

The answer, that is. Not the willy.

Posted by: Neodiogenes at May 11, 2010 8:37 PM

I haven't forgotten a single SECOND of it.

There are many reasons why I have only ONE child, and not having forgotten a single SECOND of it... is one of the reasons.

Posted by: Maryscott O'Connor at May 11, 2010 8:50 PM

It's okay to make dead baby jokes on this sight now? Then why is it not okay to make cracks about carpet bombing little Iraqi towel heads? I dont need an answer, I'm just enjoying that mental picture.

Posted by: Jack Random at May 11, 2010 11:46 PM

Maryscott: my second labor was a damn joke compared to my first. Seriously. My husband had to be woken up for my delivery for my second, that's how much of a long haul we were expecting.

Posted by: samantha t at May 12, 2010 5:00 PM

What's the difference between a baby and an overgrown baby?

The overgrown baby is a psychopath and picks on babies.

Posted by: Fame at June 8, 2010 1:26 AM