Tundra tale a little raw

Films about the natural world often evoke equal awe of the subject itself and of how on Earth (or under it) the filmmakers got the shots they did. That's especially true with "Arctic Tale," which co-stars perhaps the most feared predator on the planet: the polar bear.

How, for instance, did they get ringside footage of an underwater battle between a walrus and polar bear? How did they get close-ups of twin bear cubs emerging from their winter den for the first time? For that matter, how did they get footage inside the den of cubs just days old?

Patience, it turns out.

"Arctic Tale" is the result of 15 patient years spent by the husband-and-wife filmmaking team of Adam Ravetch and Sarah Robertson making numerous treks to this hostile world of white. From 800 hours of footage emerges about an hour and a half of stunning visual storytelling.

The film follows the lives of a polar bear cub, dubbed Nanu for storytelling purposes, and a walrus pup given the name Seela. Both are introduced almost from their start: Seela as a pup with her mom and protective aunt in her underwater nursery; Nanu as he first emerges from his birthing den after six months under ice. Predator and prey, they offer effective parallel -- and at times colliding -- story lines to show what life is like when you're constantly in search of your next meal or constantly looking over your shoulder so as not to become one.

An underlying theme presents perhaps the greatest threat to both: a melting ice cap that has shrunk 20 percent over the past few decades and, says the National Geographic-backed film, could disappear altogether by 2040. (Note to those concerned that the environmental message hijacks the movie: It does not. That's saved for the credits, which share the screen with children telling what you can do to combat global warming.)

The film could rest on its spectacular images. Spindrift whipped across a stark, white ridge, a full moon viewed from the opening of the polar bear den, under-ice shots bathed in an ethereal blue. And the scenes of nature running its sometimes brutal course, including heartbreaking footage of Nanu's weakling twin slowly starving, offer intimate peeks into another world.

The plot, though, is a welcome plus. It is well-conceived (will cuddly Nanu and Seela, born about the same time, meet down the line?) and well-executed (maybe). As the scene with Nanu's brother shows, there is no soft-pedaling.

Not quite as welcome is the box-office creep that appears to have exerted a subtle influence. Queen Latifah is a welcome relief from the somnolent male narrators typical of such films. Her assuring purr is the voice of Mother Nature herself. But some of her lines ...

A shot of beached walruses jostling for position warrants comment on their "big family" nature (backed by Sister Sledge's "We Are Family") with the observation: "Everybody's up in each other's business. That's just how they roll."

And when walrus Seela is ready to find a mate: "Seela's tusks have filled out nicely, and the boys have noticed. But not just any male will do. She has standards, not like some of the girls she knows."

'Hos on the floes? Did Al & Tipper Gore's little Kristin, one of the scriptwriters, come up with that one?

And yes, there's even a group farting scene with walruses (apparently downing 4,000 clams in one sitting doesn't sit well with the digestive tract).

Minor distractions, though, in a film that may pander a little but remains most bearable to watch.