Need a Break? Try "Dancing with the Birds"

Hi everyone,

I've slowed down a bit on watching movies lately, unfortunately, but that's in large part because I've been focusing on using my weekends for rest.  That's been a good decision and one that I'm perhaps surprisingly un-conflicted about, although I am nevertheless a bit disappointed that it means I haven't seen as many movies in the last two or three months as I would normally expect to.  The good thing--in addition to *actually* prioritizing feeling rested for maybe the first time in my life?--is that I'm still ahead of my annual movie-watching goal because of how many movies I watched in the first four months of the year, so I don't feel any self-imposed pressure to change what I'm doing at the moment.

All that said, I have watched a movie or two that I'd love to share with you!  Today's treat: a bird-based documentary!

"Dancing with the Birds" (2019) has quickly become a household favorite that my Child watches at least once, sometimes twice, a day.  Narrated with inexhaustible charm by Stephen Fry and paired with an absolutely perfect score that enhances and embraces its subjects, this admittedly not-quite-feature-length (runtime: 51 minutes) documentary profiles several birds of paradise across the world as they try to court a mate.

The footage is absolutely gorgeous, with its (mostly) brightly-colored stars set against lush, verdant jungles where food is plentiful but prospective mates are apparently hard to come by.  Evidently, and lucky for us, this creates the perfect conditions for flamboyantly plumed, artistic, dedicated little birds to go all out in attempting to set themselves apart from their fellow male competitors.

I'm hard pressed to choose a favorite bird from the rich array presented in "Dancing with the Birds", because they each bring something incredibly special and entertaining to the film.  There's the little bird near the beginning with the world's longest head plumes that does a delightfully enthusiastic swinging dance, the somewhat drab yet astonishingly multi-talented bowerbird who closes out his mating display with a zany back-and-forth dance that unfurls a shock of dandelion-yellow feathers on his head, and the inky black sicklebill whose stunning, iridescent blue accent feathers beautifully outline the incredible elongated tear-shape he forms by revealing his unusual shoulder plumes and extending his body, revealing the yellow roof of his mouth as he bobs gently, gracefully to a flying-saucer-sounding score.

This is to say nothing of the absurdly muppet-y bowerbird whose repertoire of mate-attracting moves includes dilating and contracting the pupils of his bright yellow eyes, cocking his head at a 90 degree angle, and attempting to entice his prospective mate with a blue berry clutched in his beak while he does essentially a bird body roll into a series of shuddering wing-flutters.  IT IS SO GOOD.

The movie closes with a surprisingly poignant and moving passage of the most elaborate bird dance of all, comprised of 9 distinct and painstakingly practiced dance moves in a perfectly manicured dancing arena with a specially-appointed perch for lady birds, set to T. Rex's "Cosmic Dancer".  I can't fully articulate why, but I choke up every time.

This is simply a remarkable treasure of a film--gentle yet enthralling and full of affection for the little birds hustling to make a new lady friend.  It is deeply pleasant viewing as it is also educational and sincerely entertaining.

I gave it a 5.  I hope you enjoy it as much as we do!

{Heart}