The Story of the Weeping Camel: **** 1/2 (four-and-a-half stars)

James (age 6): **** 4 stars. There was a funny part. One little four year old kid asked for television. And his Grandpa told him a story, and he was like, "Uh, Grandpa, can you tell me a different story, I already heard this." And the Grandpa just walked away, and didn't tell him another story. There was a gross gross part that I really wanted to be over with, and didn't want to see. It was when the baby camel was born. Oh, there was that other gross part. When they cut off the fur of the mama camel, that was really gross, because we saw the flesh under-the-fur part and it was really gross and slimy. That's it. There was another funny part. At somebody else's house when the little four-year-old kid snuck and didn't eat his dinner, and just watched the television. And then, when he got his television in the end.

Jupiter (age 4): *****5 stars. Can we keep this movie forever? I just liked it. The baby camel.

Justice (age 2): *****5 stars. (Justy snoozed through the first half of the movie.) Ta ta. That means "five stars."

Popi:***** 5 stars. I thought it was an adorable documentary. The filmmakers really let the subjects be. There was no narrative or voice-over, no sense that the cameras were intruding in the subjects' lives. Most of the shots were long and sustained, often of the environment, which taught you to cast a patient, thoughtful eye over this four generation family in the Gobi desert. The scene in which they played the music to the camels was truly magical. I think it's an over used word, but it felt like magic had transpired.

Mama: ***** 5 stars. They should call this the story of the weeping Mama because that's what I did. I loved watching this beautiful family live their lives.

While the kids were in the baths tonight, Jupiter said, "Mama, some families don't have sinks."
"Well, Jupey," James added, "Some families don't have houses."
Jupiter mused over it and then said, "Some families don't have baths."

I've been working on instilling appreciation in them for every little luxury we have and it's sinking in in it's own way. It seemed fitting that fifteen minutes after the kids baths, with them bundled up in their robes and slippers, we watched a movie about a family that doesn't have sinks or bathtubs--we even see the young son get his bath in a metal tub.

So strange how I envied their uncluttered lives. I must admit,when the family sends for a musician to come play his violin, so the mother camel would stop rejecting her baby, I chalked it up as a ritual akin to the grateful tossing of milk east, west, south and north, or the laying of foodstuffs on a ritual altar in the middle of the desert. I didn't expect what happened next. This documentary left me marveling at the interconnectedness of humans and animals, and mothers and babies, as well as the universality of music and emotion. I just couldn't get over what an amazing film this was, and I loved experiencing it with my kids. The little boy in the documentary does get his TV in the end. It would be easy to think of that as a corrupting influence on that families sweet, pastoral existence--but I'm the one with the Mom-blog about movies, and family night in front of the TV.