March of the Pens

I sure have had a crazy week, which explains the lack of blogging by yours truly. I have been so busy with my job at the Tribune-Review, which has just picked up some new responsibilities, as well as with my various other clients that I've hardly had time to call my own. And when I do get to call time my own, I'm usually spending it with people other folks, having a good time and going out and about. So at least, while being busy, I've been having a good time.

Yesterday, Karissa and I went to see "March of the Penguins," a movie that's growing in popularity all across the country-- just like one movie does every year, before this was Napoleon Dynamite and before that was My Big Fat Greek Wedding. But, unlike those small independent comedies (which exploded into huge mass marketing ventures) this is merely a modest documentary about some birds than cannot fly. But I tell ya, for a bunch of birds that can't fly, they got alot of gumption.

Basically it's a story of survival of the fittest, with a dash of Survivor. These penguins go through alot just to maintain a semi-monogomous relationship, marching over 70 miles at least four times. And that's not with a bunch of rest stops and bathroom breaks, that's 70 mile straight through. Their only relief is whenever their feet tire, they lay on their stomaches and slide. Sometimes I wish I could do that... but I would break my ribs, which would prevent me from giving chest bumps after scoring the winning goal at "the big game."

It was a really entertaining movie. I sat there the whole time thinking "When are these penguins going to give up and put on a jacket? A scarf even!" But no, they march on to the whizzled voice of Morgan Freeman, one of the hardest working narrators in show business. Occasionally the penguins stop marching and go "Jerry Springer" on each other, stealing baby penguins and getting into giant fights. This of course was spliced amongst the numerous penguin love-making and feeding scenes. Sometimes I couldn't tell which was which, all I knew was that they both equally grossed me out. I am very happy that I don't have to eat by sticking my head inside my mother's mouth, tugging on her uvula until she throws up food. If that were the case, I don't think America would have an obesity problem.

"March of the Penguins" really made me think. It made me think about why I hate small children, especially in the movie theater. I know you take the risk of kids when you see a matinee, but for the sake of Pete don't feed your kids coffee and candy bars before every movie. This is the third matinee I've seen where children have decided the movie isn't good and they begin running around. Meanwhile, the parents, who have no tact whatsoever, begin screaming like POWs having flashbacks, "Get back here!" Kids should never be taken to movies, at least not while they are young enough to lose interest and take up exercising.

At the end of the film, I was ultimately satisfied with what I had seen. Sure the plot is sort of weak, the characters are pretty one dimensional, and the whole man/animal vs nature is a little played out... but when isn't that the case, really? Karissa and I both agreed that the beaks of the Penguins were a little too sharp, but we were glad Hollywood didn't dull them down (as is usually the case.)

*Marches off*