At the time of writing, it’s election night in America. I did my 15 sentencings in Porirua, and drove home to watch the returns on MSNBC. Apparently, the backroom election results analysis guy at Fox is respectable, but it’s too confronting to wade through their pundits and commentators to get to the good stuff, so I stayed with MSNBC. As my stress levels increased through the evening, I just felt I couldn’t take it any more. I flicked on Netflix to chill. And what a little gem I found there.
My Octopus Teacher
My Octopus Teacher (2020, Netflix) is a lovely little documentary made by documentary Emmy winner Craig Foster. He is a South African wildlife photographer who, for reasons not explained, found himself in a sort of lost-mojo-mid-life-crisis. He was putting his family into an unhappy place. He wanted to get closer to his son. No mention of his wife. He decided to go snorkelling in the cold water of the Western Cape. He found an octopus.
I am grateful that the title of this film is not My Octopus Lover. As Chair of the Broadcasting Standards Authority, I dealt with a complaint about a broadcast that told a brief story about a man who had sex with a dolphin, and then I heard from the man himself! This movie does not go there. It does, however, depict an extraordinary (I emphasise non-sexual, but nevertheless touchingly tactile) relationship between a man and an octopus. He visited the octopus every day for nearly a year. Through skilful editing, and what must have been footage captured by another photographer, the octopus is clearly shown to be curious about this daily visitor to her den. They eventually build a great deal of mutual trust.
I must pause here for an information interlude and a disclaimer. Information: octopuses are known to be highly intelligent creatures. They are playful, they remember things, and on the evidence of this film, they can learn and strategise. They are also incredible shapeshifters, can change colours, and can create moving patterns across their skin. Disclaimer: I once met the octopus cousin, a cuttlefish, at an aquarium in the United States. We hit it off. It looked straight at me and performed for me. It changed colours for me, changed shape, and created patterns. It moved to where I moved in front of the tank. It was definitely flirting with me. It would like to say it changed my life. I communed with another species.
As did Craig’s octopus change Craig’s life. Octopuses only live for a year, so the inevitable happens at the end of the film, but holy smokes, the adventures they had! The photography is stunning, particularly of the kelp forests, and it is truly incredible what this octopus does. Although Craig’s son is a bit of an afterthought for most of the film, he is reintroduced to us at the end as a strong swimmer, his father’s snorkelling companion, and someone who is inspired by his father’s knowledge of octopuses. The octopus has brought father and son closer together (no further mention of his wife). Such a perfect antidote to the horrors of the American election coverage.
Baby Done
The other movie I recommend is Baby Done (New Zealand, 2020, in cinemas now). The film’s title is short for “marry, house, baby, done” — the standard life pattern apparently expected of every person except Rose Matafeo. I saw Rose once at a stand-up comedy gig. I was in the second row of chairs in a small venue, and I have to say I was a bit put off because I felt she was yelling at us all the time. I clearly know nothing about comedic or acting talent (I once called Cindy Lauper a one-hit-wonder) because she shows off her acting chops in this picture. Practically everyone who was ever on Seven Days and the greatest show on Māori TV, the late lamented Ask Your Auntie, is in this film, and they are super funny, thanks to Sophie Henderson’s script.
Rose plays an arborist who is in a relationship with Neville Longbottom from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, now all grown up and using his real name, the much less colourful Matthew Lewis. Rose becomes pregnant but still wants to go to the International Tree Climbing Competition in Canada, and cover off everything else she ever wanted to do before the baby comes. I’m not sure that the audience can willingly suspend its disbelief that it is somehow possible for Rose to be in denial about the baby until virtually the moment of delivery, but there are laughs along the way. The biggest one came from Jackie van Beek who firmly tells Rose, “It’s not a tapeworm, it’s a baby.” And Matenga Ashby, whom I had never heard of, turns in a beautifully funny performance as Rose’s apprentice arborist who doesn’t really like climbing trees, or anything else about them. He is a real find.
That’s it for this month. I’m a movie short, but the quality of these two pictures should, with any luck and discriminating taste, compensate for that.