There are people in this world who are born to be parents: those forward-thinking types who as teenagers sock away lawn-mowing wages for the down payment on a house, or that neighborhood babysitter whom kids seem to take to more than their own parents—the one who, maddeningly, can transform the most colicky of infants into a cooing bundle of rainbows. These are people who don’t flinch at spit-up, spilled milk or the occasional errant poop.

I am not one of those people. As the youngest of two children, I have few memories of the infant life, and by the time my cousins (the extent of our small extended family) had children of their own, I had long since moved away.

When I was struggling to get by in New York, kids were far from my mind, despite the strollerati parents of Park Slope, who made balancing binkies and bialys look easy (it helps, I gathered, if your stroller has a space to hold your latte). In the meantime, old friends were starting to become parents, a strange metamorphosis that left me wondering who I would still smoke cigarettes with.

Then, a few years ago, I found myself in a relationship with one of those natural-born parents, and—slowly, at first—it all started to make more sense. A preschool teacher and full-time aunt as well as a part-time childcare provider, her life—our life—is teeming with kids, all of whom have found some small way to amaze me just by doing what they do.

We’re engaged now, and somewhere along the line I quit smoking. After all, that’s money that could be going toward a college fund.

All this has been on my mind because of Thomas Balmes’ film Babies, now playing at Amherst Cinema. A documentary that probes the unique and the universal in equal parts, it introduces us to four children from far-flung corners of the globe: Ponijao, who lives with her family near Opuwo, Namibia; Bayarjargal, being brought up in Mongolia; Mari, an infant resident of Tokyo; and Hattie, growing up in San Francisco.

Balmes’ film proves that whatever our differences, there is an ineffable joy both in being a child and in raising one, and his work commits to film some of the earliest chapters of the human story. It’s a film for everyone, even if—like me—you didn’t see it coming.

Also this week: As a counterweight to Babies, consider Exit Through the Gift Shop, also at Amherst Cinema. A through-the-looking-glass study of renowned yet anonymous graffiti artist Banksy, it includes footage of the elusive artist as well as Shepard Fairey (creator of the famous Barack Obama “Hope” poster), Invader, and other infamous street artists, and reminds us that some of the best art is found on the outside of the museum walls.

Jack Brown can be reached at cinemadope@gmail.com.