Gunda (Victor Kossakovsky, 2020) (Patreon)

[SPOILERS, IF YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT HAPPENS TO ANIMALS ON THE FARM...]

At the risk of national stereotyping, Gunda represents one serious case of Russian-style whataboutism. Designed to tug at the tear ducts of the middlebrow arthouse audience, Kossakovsky's film asks us to watch a litter or little piglets grow up, all the while using subtle cinematic techniques -- point of view shots, individual vs. group distinctions, occasional slo-mo for poignancy -- to encourage identification with the creatures. So then, when the piglets are rounded up by a big, faceless tractor-trailer and taken to market, we are supposed to be horrified. The interminable final shot consists of Gunda, the mama pig, frantically searching for her stolen children.

But think about it. The free-range farm where Kossakovsky shot Gunda is actually spacious and humane, especially compared with the cradle-to-meathook hell of mechanized agribusiness. But then, I strongly suspect the filmmaker wouldn't be granted permission to film inside a factory farm. And his stacked narrative of "paradise betrayed" would be impossible. (Gunda also spends some time with cows and chickens, but Kossakovsky doesn't seem as interested in them, as they are harder to humanize.)

Alas, the most compelling moment in Gunda arrives early on, shortly after the sow delivers her litter. A solitary runt emerges from the straw, separate from the newborn passel. Its enormous mother steps right on it, crushing the life out of the pitiful thing. Well before farmers have intervened to collect the piglets for slaughter, Kossakovsky has shown us the ugly side of Nature, unfiltered and unapologetic. This is worth considering, since it is a stark reminder of why we humans have cast our lot with Civilization, our rules and observances for keeping raw Nature at bay. When neo-Nazis talk about a return to "natural law," or you hear whispers of the "intellectuals" of the Counter-Enlightenment, or just encounter "locker room talk" about Chads, Stacys, and alpha-males, remember that lone piglet having the life squashed out of it. That's what they really mean.

Anyway, since Gunda was so boring, I found myself thinking about ways to have fun with pigs. And I got the idea for a sort of chain-and-harness swing, like you see at some amusement parks. But obviously it would be on a much smaller scale, and there would be no seats, only straps guaranteed to hold a significant amount of weight. Now, to be honest, I think this will be a lot more entertaining for the surrounding humans than the pigs themselves. But hey, beats becoming bacon.