Film: Cave of Forgotten Dreams

Wednesday was exciting: we went out to see a film. This doesn't sound a big deal, but it's actually something we've been seriously deprived of since Anya came along. When we've had a chance to take nights out before now, we've been more likely to go for dinner or to gigs, which are both pretty much irreplaceable experiences; so far we've mostly watched films on the sofa at home.

Anyway, a chance meeting in the park means that we've now retained a babysitter, Michaela, so we can go out when we want.

The film we saw was Werner Herzog's latest documentary, which is all about the cave art uncovered in 1994 in the Chauvet cave in southern France. This is the oldest reliably-dated artwork in human history, but the cave environment is so fragile that only a handful of researchers are allowed to visit each year. Herzog persuaded the custodians to allow his crew to visit.

One unusual aspect of this film is that it's shot in 3D. It was the first 3D film I'd seen and, for the first few minutes while my eyes adjusted, they were watering profusely and tears ran down my face. But it's a great example of why, whether this technology succeeds or fails, it can be used for more than just blockbusters: with all these dark, claustrophobic shots of cave walls the 3D brought to life a place most of us have no chance of actually visiting.

Herzog has some sort of instinct for uncovering eccentrics, and sure enough there's a circus performer-turned-archaeologist who had to give up his visits to the cave at first after he started getting intense, recurring dreams of lions; plus a master perfumier, who hopes to find out undiscovered caverns trapped behind ancient rockfalls not by feeling for the cool air, but by smelling their odour emanating from cracks in the rock.

But for the most part, he does the right thing and steps back, keeps quiet and let's the images do the talking. That's a good strategy; indeed, my main criticism is that the soundtrack at times becomes a little too obtrusive and jarring, unlike Herzog himself. There's an odd flight of fancy near the end involving albino crocodiles at a weird vivarium near the caves heated with waste water from a nuclear plant, but for the most part he's rather distant and respectful. Which feels right for a documentary about something so ancient, so fundamental and so fragile.