Another one that Netflix doesn't have
Nov. 9th, 2004 05:43 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
urbpanPale Male, 2002
This nature documentary's charms and faults derive from the same source: the people of New York City. On the one hand, we see the famously world-weary citizens of America's Best City in awe of the first red-tailed hawks to ever nest in Central Park. On the other, is the grating self-importance of New Yorkers and their belief that every event in The City is great simply because of where it takes place.
The reader should see the obvious case of sour grapes this reviewer suffers from. Just a short trip east to Boston affords any urban birder all the nesting red-tailed hawks they could want. But Harvard Square and Fenway Park as raptor habitat are somehow not worthy of a documentary. Not that I'm bitter.
That aside, Pale Male effectively draws you into the drama of its feathered protagonists, and the eccentrics who watch them. In fact, the cluster of enthusiasts that gather across the street from the hawks' nest becomes as facinating a subject as the birds themselves. We are enthralled with them as experience together such wonders as the hunting of prey on the wing, and the first flight of the fledgeling hawk chicks. The cinematography of these events is remarkable--the very public location of Central Park makes for dramatic juxtapositions and intimate close-ups.
The "where are they now" wrap-up (the eponymous bird has hunted in Central Park for 10 years, fathering 19 chicks) leaves the viewier with the feeling that the film is part of a continuing story. Indeed, indications are that populations of certain species of birds of prey are increasing, particularly in developed areas. Hopefully, Pale Male will be remembered as one of the first success of many in a fertile new subgenre: the urban nature documentary.
This nature documentary's charms and faults derive from the same source: the people of New York City. On the one hand, we see the famously world-weary citizens of America's Best City in awe of the first red-tailed hawks to ever nest in Central Park. On the other, is the grating self-importance of New Yorkers and their belief that every event in The City is great simply because of where it takes place.
The reader should see the obvious case of sour grapes this reviewer suffers from. Just a short trip east to Boston affords any urban birder all the nesting red-tailed hawks they could want. But Harvard Square and Fenway Park as raptor habitat are somehow not worthy of a documentary. Not that I'm bitter.
That aside, Pale Male effectively draws you into the drama of its feathered protagonists, and the eccentrics who watch them. In fact, the cluster of enthusiasts that gather across the street from the hawks' nest becomes as facinating a subject as the birds themselves. We are enthralled with them as experience together such wonders as the hunting of prey on the wing, and the first flight of the fledgeling hawk chicks. The cinematography of these events is remarkable--the very public location of Central Park makes for dramatic juxtapositions and intimate close-ups.
The "where are they now" wrap-up (the eponymous bird has hunted in Central Park for 10 years, fathering 19 chicks) leaves the viewier with the feeling that the film is part of a continuing story. Indeed, indications are that populations of certain species of birds of prey are increasing, particularly in developed areas. Hopefully, Pale Male will be remembered as one of the first success of many in a fertile new subgenre: the urban nature documentary.
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no subject
Date: 2004-11-11 09:15 am (UTC)In the tree directly across the street from our house. Less than a mile from Fenway Park:
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Date: 2004-11-11 10:18 am (UTC)