I was first introduced to Jacques Perrin through his 2002 Oscar Best Documentary Feature, Winged Migration. The tale of migrating birds throughout the world and its wonderful scores that lend a sense of grandeur to the documentary captivated me to no end. With minimum commentary, the film rely almost entirely on visual and music to covey the story. The film attempts to appeal to the emotions of the viewers more than the intellect and indeed, I never knew documentary on birds can feel like watching the epic Lord of the Rings trilogies by Peter Jackson.
While Winged Migration left me with a sense of awe for the majesty of the creation and a deep respect for the birds' tenacity in their flight for survival, Microcosmos evoked a rather different feeling. Here, rather than the admirable and heroic effort of the birds passing above often exotic locales, I witness the much more commonplace and everyday life of the creepy crawlers. As the narrator said, this is a world where a day is a lifetime and the perception of time is very different. We are treated with snippets of various different creatures including ladybirds, butterfies, catarpillars, snails, beetles, spiders and water bugs to name a few as they go through their lifecycle from feeding to mating.
In a way, this is also a story about survival, albeit on a micro scale. The world in mircovision through a bug's eye view is no less elaborate or beautiful compare to the wonderful sight of soaring birds. The first thought most of these creatures illicit is how similar they are to us human. Watching the ants rushing about, filling their lairs can seem like seeing the rush hour traffic where each men and women rush to accumulate money, perhaps for a rainy day. A dung beetle rolling a ball of dung that was accidentally stuck on a thorn embedded in the gravel road had much to say about tenacity and skills.
Among these highly diverse cast of characters, the one that blew me away was the burgundy snails. With soprano opera music playing in the background, imagine a snail gracefully gliding through a field of emerald grass. It sailed forward, leaving a trail as if it is a luxurious cruiser on the ocean. The snail meets another snail and first they touched their eye stalks tentatively, then they move in closer and closer, heaving up their baby soft bodies and finally the shyness give way to a passionate embrace - the two become one flesh. The undulation of their joined sides are uncannily erotic and the way they stroke each other in their faces are like lovers locked in a prolonged kiss. What pleasures they must be enjoying! I never know the images of mating snails can be so romantic! Looking at the lovers making love in the green glades reminded me of so many masterful work of arts from Klimt's The Kiss to Quinn's The Kiss. I was almost convicted that this segment of film deserves a place in the LOVE exhibition, being a supreme example of the innocent and unparalleled joy of Eros.
Although I still like Winged Migration better, mainly because I can relate to the aviator's titanic effort and perseverance more, to make snails feel sensual and romantic, I think Microcosmos is also a great film. For bug haters out there, who knows if after you see how cute and whimsical a caterpillar can be will forever change your perception to these 'little people'.
A link to the film on wiki http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Microcosmos
Wishing you and meaningful and happy St Valentine's Day!
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