Gunda

...although more of the story of the chickens and cows life would have balanced it better.

Many informative reviews here already, hence I wanted to add some facts I looked up afterwards, also as some here got it wrong, but I won't as I don't like spoilers. You find every question which (hopefully) pops up afterwards by doing a quick search.

I'll only leave a good note I liked from AccidentalSmallHolder net ehich addresses something you'll (hopefully) also think about afterwards:

"If pig keeping isn't for you, please do the next best thing and source your pork, bacon and sausages from ethically reared pigs. If it doesn't say the pigs are born and reared outdoors, they probably weren't so don't be fooled by misleading labelling. Even pigs that are reared outdoors may have been born to sows kept indoors, in crates, so do be aware of labelling - it's more about what it doesn't say, than what it does."

At first, we can't grasp what we are seeing, and it takes a while to sink in. Throughout the film, both beauty and reality will often rise up to temporarily disorient, take our breath away, and even overwhelm.

This is not your cute animal film, though it has that too. It's more akin to those moments of serenity and joy that can arise when we are watching babies move or small children explore. We feel both intimacy and otherness, and perhaps even bewilderment.

In my imagination it doesn't seem impossible that this film could be nominated for awards beyond Best Documentary. It would need its own version of Script Writing, Choreography, Directing, Editing, and Producing.

But the Cinematography! Obviously it's often spontaneous and even seat-of-the-pants. Somehow there is an endless outpouring of breath-taking photographic moments in high-resolution black and white. Will there be a picture book?

It's not that the shots are a miracle of technique; I'm sure they are. It's more how they touch such a wide range of feeling. A world is created and then ...

Like the beginning, the ending takes a while to sink in. Hushed. Eye and heart, conscience and consciousness, awakened.

A stunning black and white silent (save the grunting) documentary that soft focuses on the life of a pig. Seems innocuous enough, but there is magic here. Shot at ground level, and sparing nothing from farm life, "Gunda" is not here to shock, or illicit clown tears, but to have a look, like a wide-eyed child might back in the day when summers were not filled with organized sports camps or school continuation. It captures that slow, languid, breezy feel of beautiful boredom.

Opening with the birth of a litter, it follows the towering mother sow as she clumsily deals with the runt of her offspring. It is astonishing, inviting, and then shockingly cruel. What is happening is not exactly clear, and there is no deep voice over to mansplain nature. That is the beauty of this film: it evolves along with the undetermined storyline.

A slow, dreamy bit of cinema, "Gunda" works well in transporting the audience to a world most are familiar with but few actually know or have experienced hands on. The sharp monochrome delivery turns a pigsty into a pleasant aesthetic. The absence of smell helps. Nothing revelatory here, and since this is a farm, well, let's just say that the animals are not in charge, and there is a sudden dramatic turn to remind everyone about life's cold harsh realities.

"Gunda" is an animal film that is really not an animal film. It is a brilliant exercise in moment capture, shot with an addictive lens, documenting some life lessons, without preaching or dwelling on anything in particular. Pigs in showbiz are usually funny, smart or exotic. Not here. "Gunda" is a mother, and that is that.

• hipCRANK.

Looks like this film sometimes can't decide what it wants itself to be. Overall, it uses a highly poetic language with desaturated picture and "commercial" outlook with long dolly shots, wide angles and slow motion. At the same time, it always tends to be on animals' eyes level, depicting some of the unpleasant and cruel aspects of their life. However, it seems that camera is sometimes shy about what it sees, notably putting pig's back out of focus in final scene - which inevitably drives us to a conclusion that it's the human look on the animal, even if there's not a single human in frame. Surprisingly, the most coherent and touching part of three isolated novels is the one about chicken - particularly because of non-intrusive and highly tactile camera work.

Gunda stays somewhere between brutal realism of life and romantic pamphlet against cruelty to animals, mixing together two incompatible aesthetic approaches. However, a film like this had to be made, and I hope it will influence other filmmakers to experiment with storytelling from an animal point of view.

A small film, a moving and beautiful film, a film that moves at the pace of farm animals.

It is set in another universe that is open to us but that we don't visit.