The Poppies of Terra #37 - The March of Our Penguin Friends

One day a fisherman in the tropical and mostly serene Proveta Beach, in Rio de Janeiro State, Brazil, spots something unusual in the water right off the shore. As he gets closer he sees, in disbelief, that it’s a penguin. The visibly struggling creature is coated in oil, clearly disoriented and starved. The fisherman, João Pereira de Souza, takes in the penguin, feeds him, cleans him, generally cares for his well-being and nurses him back to health.

It’s the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

This touching and unusual relationship, at the core of the new family-friendly film My Penguin Friend (dir. David Schurmann) is inspired by a true story (it appears that in real life João was a retired mason, and discovered the penguin in his backyard). Jean Reno, whom we saw spending considerable time in the water in The Big Blue (1988), another movie about the potential depths of humans’ connection with animals, in that case dolphins, plays the old fisherman João with an endearing mix of dignity, eccentricity and forlornness. In one of the movie’s dramatic enhancements, the past has buffeted him and his wife Maria (Adriana Barraza, in a strong supporting role) with tragedy, and he’s never quite recovered. Just as the sea has taken away, we might say, now the sea gives back.

The penguin, eventually named Dindim–in real life, after João’s grandson's mispronunciation of the Portuguese word for penguin, “pinguim,” or depending on which source you believe, following a Portuguese word meaning “ice pop”–is a long way from home. After spending a delightful interlude with João and Maria, and even, to the astonishment of the locals, venturing into the nearby village, Dindim takes off.

The movie follows the Magellanic penguin back to his breeding ground, thousands of miles away, in Patagonia, Argentina. There, a group of avid researchers notices something unusual about his behavior. Several dialogue beats are spent on the linguistic connotations of calling him “abnormal” vs. “unique”–who knows, in today’s parlance, Dindim might be described as migra-divergent. As the seasons turn, he sets back out to Brazil, and once again stays with the fisherman and his wife.

It’s a simple story, effectively crafted. Writers Kristen Lazarian and Paulina Lagudi Ulrich introduce several plot waddles, leaps and dives, but we know from the start that this is the kind of picture where good intentions and genuine kindness will ultimately toboggan through life’s darkest patches. Loss in the depths, yes; but hope on the horizon. The screenplay balances its more overtly emotional gestures with cues highlighting science, environmentalism, and the strength of community.

The cinematography, by Anthony Dod Mantle, is captivating without being showy, and veteran composer Fernando Velázquez’s score strikes all the right notes, from frollicking to pensive, as befits the narrative. The visual effects are also immersive. There may be a scene here or there, as during one of the penguin migration sequences, where computer-generated assists are easy to spot, but generally the line is artfully blurred between the real and synthetic. An estimated 80% of shots feature ten real (rescue) penguins from Ubatuba, Brazil–Dindim’s diminutive body doubles.  

We might say that this film, thematically following fare like Dolphin Tale (2011) and the earlier popular classic Free Willy (1993), swims in familiar waters, but there’s no need to reinvent what works. There are several moments where the director places us in the POV of Dindim himself, so that we see the world through a kind of distorted circular lens from a short height, with otherwise familiar sights looming imposingly around us. It’s a neat empathizing technique, which subliminally also evokes a sense of wonder by recalling what it was like for us to experience the world as children.

Beyond its surface charms, My Penguin Friend offers an interesting take on the concept of adaptation. Being extraordinarily adaptive is the trait that, in a literal sense, enables Dindim’s remarkable accomplishments. In an emotional sense, it is–and understandably so–one of João’s shortcomings. By sharing the gift, they’re both made more resilient.

I believe this film could well inspire young viewers, who will no doubt become invested in Dindim’s journey, to become more curious about animals and the working of their minds. In recent days we're seeing an ever-growing interest in the positive effects on humans of spending time in nature, as well as the restorative dimension of animal companionship, both of which underscore João’s bond with Dindim. Though this film is a work of reality-inspired fiction, it has documentary-like moments. Penguins do make for a fascinating subject. Seeing Luc Jacquet’s March of the Penguins (2005) in the movie theater was a riveting experience. Other notable entries in this niche of the nature-doc ecosystem include the David Attenborough-narrated The Penguin King (2012), the Kate Winslet-narrated Snow Chick: A Penguin’s Tale (2015), Alastair Fothergill and Jeff Wilson’s Penguins (2019)–which I was also fortunate enough to catch on the large screen–and, more recently, the eight-episode Netflix series Penguin Town (2021). “He comes and goes as he pleases,” says João, asserting Dindim's autonomy. “Not my pet. My friend.” Regardless of kingdom, human or animal, we could all use more of those.