All language subtitles for March of the Penguins 2005 eng

There are few places harder to get to
in this world.

But there aren't any
where it's harder to live.

The average temperature here
at the bottom of the Earth...

...is a balmy 58 degrees below.

That's when the sun is out.

It wasn't always like this.

Antarctica used to be a tropical place...

...densely forested and teeming with life.

But then the continent
started to drift south.

And by the time it was done drifting...

...the dense forests had all been replaced
with a new ground cover:

Ice.

As for the former inhabitants,
they had all died or moved on long ago.

Well, almost all of them.

Legend has it that one tribe
stayed behind.

Perhaps they thought the change
in weather was only temporary.

or maybe they were just stubborn.

But whatever their reasons,
these stalwart souls refused to leave.

For millions of years
they have made their home...

...on the darkest, driest, windiest
and coldest continent on Earth.

And they've done so pretty much alone.

So in some ways
this is a story of survival.

A tale of life over death.

But it's more than that, really.

This is a story about love.

Like most love stories, it begins
with an act of utter foolishness.

The emperor penguin
is technically a bird.

Although one that makes his home
in the sea.

So if you're wondering
what he's doing up here on the ice...

...well, that's part of our story.

Each year at around the same time...

...he will leave the comfort
of his ocean home...

...and embark
on a remarkable journey.

He will travel a great distance...

...and though he is a bird,
he won't fly.

Though he lives in the sea,
he won't swim.

Mostly, he will walk.

But he won't walk alone.

It is March. Summer is over.

And another long polar winter
is about to begin.

The birds have been feeding
in the ocean waters for three months.

Now, their bellies full...

...it is time to find a mate.

Their breeding ground can be
up to 70 miles away.

To get there they will walk
day and night continuously.

Sometimes for a week.

It is a long, dangerous
and seemingly impossible journey.

And some of them will not survive it.

Nonetheless, when the last of the clan
has finally clamored onto the ice...

...their long march will begin...

...just as it has for thousands of years.

The destination is always the same.

Their path, however, is not.

The ice on which the birds travel
never stops shifting and changing.

New roadblocks will appear
to baffle them every year.

We're not exactly sure
how they find their way.

Perhaps they were assisted by the sun.

or the stars.

or maybe having taken this march
for thousands of generations...

...they are guided by some invisible
compass within them.

They never stay stumped for long.

Eventually, one of them
will pick up the trail.

And the journey continues.

When they get tired of walking,
they'll give their feet a rest.

They'll use their bellies instead.

Theirs is usually a graceful parade.

But not always.

Each day the temperature drops
a little further.

And the sun will set earlier.

The weather becomes noticeably harsher
almost by the hour.

By now similar caravans are approaching
from every direction.

And finally, often on the same day...

...even around the same time...

...they will arrive at the place where
each and every one of them was born.

Here they will mate in relative safety.

They are now far from the water's edge
where most predators lurk.

And the large ice walls will offer
some protection from the harshest winds.

But the real reason
they have chosen this place...

...lies beneath their feet.

The ice is thicker here.

It will stay solid until summer...

...keeping their young
from accidentally falling through...

...into the freezing ocean.

And so, having arrived...

...they begin to pursue
their journey's purpose:

Finding a mate.

We don't really know
what they're looking for in a partner.

We only know that they are,
in fact, looking.

We also know when they've found
what they're looking for.

Emperor penguins are monogamous.
Sort of.

They mate with only one partner
per year.

Which means every new season,
all bets are off.

Because there are fewer males
than females here...

...hostilities among the ladies
are inevitable.

A taken male instantly
becomes an unavailable male.

So occasionally, a female will attempt
to interrupt a courtship.

The men don't seem to mind.

They just wait for the fight to end
and take the opportunity to preen.

They're not that different from us, really.

They pout.

They bellow.

They strut.

And occasionally, they will engage
in some contact sports.

Within a few weeks,
one way or the other...

...most of the animals have found
the one they are looking for.

For the next eight months...

...these two will participate
in an ancient and complicated affair.

There will be tenderness.

There will be separation.

There will be reunion.

And if their partnership is successful,
there will be new life.

For now, they wait...

...for the egg and for the brutal winter...

...which will do everything in its power
to destroy that egg.

By May the light will nearly
have disappeared from the sky...

...and the temperature
continues to drop.

And for those who began
their march too late...

...or have fallen behind
because of weakness or hunger...

...hope of survival is now remote.

The lone penguin has no chance
against the winter's cold.

He will simply fade away...

...absorbed by the great whiteness
all around him.

As winter descends...

...the tribe's only defense
against the freezing cold...

...is the group itself.

It is almost as if they create
another organism altogether.

The huddled animals form
a single moving mass...

...one designed for the sole purpose
of sustaining warmth.

Winter's first storm is upon them.

Within a few weeks, days begin to pass
with virtually no light at all.

Moons come and go
in the soon-to-be-endless night.

And finally, one day in early June...

...we remember why they came here.

As soon as the egg appears,
it is instantly hidden from the cold.

The tiny beating heart
within the shell cannot survive...

...much more than a moment's exposure
to the freezing air.

From now on, the couple has
but a single goal:

Keeping their egg alive.

The hungry mother must return at once
to the sea to eat.

But before she leaves,
she must entrust the egg to its father.

Some, young couples, perhaps,
are too impulsive or rushed.

And within moments,
their affair comes to an end.

They can only watch...

...as the ice claims their egg...

...and the life within it.

This couple's partnership is now over.

The long march in vain.

With no reason to stay...

...they will wander back to the sea.

other couples have lost their egg as well.

As for the others...

...their partnership is about to change.

With unending patience...

...the pair rehearses the steps
they will need to transfer the egg...

...from the mother to the father.

They practice this clumsy ballet
dozens of times if need be.

And then, with great care...

...they will dance it.

And now begins one of nature's
most incredible...

...and endearing role reversals.

It is the penguin male
who will tend the couple's single egg.

While the mother feeds and gathers food
to bring back for the newborn...

...it is the father who will shield the egg
from the violent winds and cold.

He will make a nest for the egg
atop his own claws...

...keeping it safe and warm
beneath a flap of skin on his belly.

And he will do this
for more than two months.

Having passed the egg...

...the exhausted female
must depart quickly.

She must eat soon or she will die.

As the winter progresses...

...the father will be severely tested.

The mother will be tested as well.

Her return trip to the sea
is considerably more difficult...

...than the original march
to the nesting ground.

It is colder now.

And she will have lost almost a third
of her body weight producing the egg.

She is literally starving.

of course, the fathers
are nearly starving too.

But for them, a meal is far off
in the distance.

By the time their vigil
atop the egg is over...

...the penguin fathers will have gone
without food of any kind...

...for over 125 days.

And they will have endured
one of the most violent...

...and deadly winters on Earth.

All for the chick.

As the fathers settle into their long wait
at the breeding ground...

...the winter's second storm arrives.

The temperature is now 80 degrees
below zero.

That's without taking into account
the wind...

...which can blow 100 miles an hour.

Though they can be aggressive
during the rest of the year...

...at this time
the males are totally docile.

A united and cooperative team...

...they brace against the storm by merging
their thousand bodies into a single mass.

They will take turns...

...each of them getting to spend some
time near the center of their huddle...

...where it's warmer.

As they move about...

...the fathers will balance their eggs
like tightrope walkers.

The exhausted mothers
have marched 70 miles.

They are now back
where they started three months ago.

But they aren't anywhere near
the water's edge.

New ice is formed along the shore...

...forcing them to walk several more miles
before they reach the sea.

Food is actually
only a few inches below them.

But they have no way
of getting to it here.

To survive they must reach
the new ice edge...

...or find some other opening.

Sometimes this search will last for days.

Naturally, after their long walk,
they are eager to get back in the water.

Sometimes a little too eager.

They can hold their breath
for over 15 minutes...

...and dive to a depth of 1700 feet...

...approaching the sea floor itself
to feed on fish, krill and squid.

They will also skim along the ice
just below the ocean's surface...

...searching for any fish
that may have lodged there.

While the mothers finally
fill their empty bellies...

...the fathers cling to life
on the surface...

...trying to keep the eggs
safe and warm.

The wind will occasionally bring snow
to quench the males' thirst.

They have been without food now
for over three months.

Each day brings them closer
to exhaustion and starvation.

Eventually some,
usually the older ones...

...will simply fall asleep...

...and disappear.

Now it is dark almost all the time.

And the mother of all blizzards
is about to arrive.

The fathers now make an extra effort...

...to weld their bodies together
and resist the winter's rage.

Above them, the southern lights
dance virtually around the clock.

For now there is almost only night.

The hungry mothers aren't the only ones
overjoyed by their return to the sea.

Their predators, unfortunately,
are happy to have them back as well.

With a snap of its jaws...

...the leopard seal
actually takes two lives.

That of the trapped mother...

...and that of her unborn chick
who will never be fed.

By July the females know
it is time to return to their nest.

And so, for the third time this year,
the mothers take the long walk.

only this time...

...they walk in the dark.

The ravenous and freezing night lingers...

...seemingly without end.

Until finally...

...the darkness begins
its slow retreat.

After many months, light returns
in earnest to the South Pole.

But only momentarily.

And yet...

...it is enough.

Their victory over winter has begun.

Their efforts have not been in vain.

Though the light is returning...

...the winter is far from over.

The worst is, actually, yet to come.

No matter how cold it is,
or how hungry they are...

...the fathers must keep moving.

If they don't, they will die.

But then...

Each day more eggs will hatch.

But this chick is hungry.

He needs the food
in his mother's belly.

But his father is hungry too.

He hasn't eaten
in nearly four months now.

If his mate doesn't arrive soon,
he will be forced to abandon his child...

...and return to the sea
to feed himself.

He will have no choice.

But there is one secret weapon
against his newborn's hunger.

The father coughs up a milky substance.

Despite his own hunger,
this tiny meal has been relegated...

...to a small crease in his throat...

...just for this moment.

This little banquet will keep the chick
alive for a day, perhaps two.

Hopefully, long enough
for the mother to arrive.

For some it is already too late.

The mothers step up their rhythm...

...as if sensing the urgency.

They shuffle along
as quickly as possible...

...hauling their overstuffed bellies
one last mile.

And then, at last, they are back.

To find each other
in the enormous crowd...

...the penguins must rely
on sound, not sight.

As they circle,
the returning mothers trumpet loudly...

...and wait for their mates
to call back.

The sound is deafening.

And yet, somehow, each of them
will hear their mate's song.

The couple has found one another.

The mother sees her chick
for the first time.

And at last...

...the family is together.

And just as they did with the egg...

...the parents now quickly pass off
the newborn from one to the other.

Now it is the mother's turn to protect
her chick from the fierce cold.

The father and his chick
sing to one another...

...making sure
each knows the other's voice.

It is the only way the two will find
each other when the father returns.

As the chick enjoys his first real meal...

...the father prepares to sever
the bond between them.

It's not easy to do.

The fathers have gone without food
for over four months.

They will have lost
as much as half their weight.

But still they must walk...

...for over 70 miles.

This leg of the journey may be why
they are fewer males than females.

Each year some of these new fathers
will not make it back to the sea.

Like the sun, the chicks
grow stronger every day.

But they are not yet ready
to leave their mothers.

In time, after being perched atop their
mother's feet for a thousand paces...

...like a child learning to dance
on her mother's shoes...

...the chick takes
his first steps alone.

With the wind's return...

...the temperature drops.

This year, winter's going out
with a bang.

This is the first storm
for the new chicks...

...and many of them will not survive it.

When the winds stop...

...the search for lost chicks begins.

Some have kept warm
by huddling together.

others have not been so lucky.

The loss is unbearable.

Every year some bereft mother
will respond to her agony...

...in an unimaginable way.

Having lost her own chick...

...she will attempt to steal another's.

But the group will not allow it.

Back in its mother's care,
the chick is not eager to leave again.

Despite having known
each other only a few days...

...the bond between mother
and child is surprisingly strong.

In the next few weeks...

...it will only grow stronger.

Winter's grip slowly weakens...

...and the chicks begin to run free.

Some need a little encouragement.

But eventually...

...they all find their way.

Winter may have ended...

...but the dangers have not.

It is late August now.

And time for the mothers
to return and feed once more.

For some...

...this development is unacceptable.

But it is also non-negotiable.

Because they are old enough now...

...the chicks are left alone
for the first time.

As spring arrives...

...the ice packs near the ocean's edge
begin to melt...

...shortening the distance between
the sea and the breeding ground.

It isn't long before the fathers return...

...their bellies heavy with food.

The chicks will gather at once
to meet them...

...and sound their calls.

The returning fathers will circle
the excited newborns and listen...

...until he hears his chick's call.

Some will never find their chick.

The newborn will have died...

...from cold or hunger...

...or at the hands of some predator.

But for those
that do find their young...

...the reunion is a joyful one.

And, very quickly, the young chick's belly
will be full again.

For the next several months,
the parents will take turns...

...shuttling back and forth
to the sea for food.

And occasionally...

...the new family can actually
spend some time together.

By September the ice has begun
to thin and crack.

The sea gets closer, allowing the parents
to go back and forth more frequently.

The chicks' new coat of feathers
is now thick and full...

...enough to protect them on their own.

And by November the ocean is within
a few hundred yards...

...of the breeding ground.

As the ice melts...

...the brand-new family prepares
to go their separate ways.

The couples, locked for
the past nine months...

...in their ancient ritual
of coming and going...

...will now part for the last time.

And as their newest members look on...

...the tribe returns to their home, at last.

For the next three months...

...they will lavish in the rich and warmish
waters of their short summer.

They will feed...

...and they will play.

And in all likelihood...

...their chicks
will never see them again.

They will remain here alone and
unsupervised for a few more weeks...

...growing stronger.

The ice continues to melt...

...returning the borrowed water
to the sea.

And beckoning the young penguins...

...into the ocean as well.

It is now December...

...and they are ready to leave the place
where they were born.

And although they have
never known the ocean...

...nor touched it...

...they, like their parents...

...are of the sea.

And so one day...

...they'll take the plunge...

...and go home for the first time.

For four years,
the chicks will live at sea.

But as the sunlight begins to disappear
at the end of their fifth year...

...and the warm days begin to cool...

...they, too, will climb out of the water.

And they will march...

...just as they have done for centuries...

...ever since the emperor penguin
decided to stay...

...to live and love...

...in the harshest place on Earth.