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More often than not, the animals are anthropomorphized or metaphorized.
(Thats not always a bad thing.
There will be noBabe: Pig in the Citybad-mouthing here,thankyouverymuch.)
But Viktor Kossakovskys mesmerizing documentaryGundastill serves as a bracing corrective to the way animals are usually portrayed on film.
Over the course of the picture, the piglets grow and play as Mom pushes and prods them along.
Theres no real connective story line, other than the immediacy of whats onscreen.
So we dont necessarily understand these animals.
We are, however, transfixed by them.
Its the damnedest thing.
But Kossakovsky just lets this world be, which feels like an act of radical honesty.
He respects the animals being, and he respects our intelligence.
The sheer elegance ofGundas imagery, however, does not scream simplicity.
Kossakovsky may not anthropomorphize his subjects, but he does aestheticize them.
At times,Gundafeels like the kind of movie they might have made about themselves.
That in turn makes one particular late-film development enormously affecting.
That doesnt make it any less shattering.
In fact, it might make it more so.
We dont see, and we may not even entirely understand, whats precisely happening during such moments.
And, well, neither does Gunda.
