The other day my husband excitedly tore open the newest Netflix envelope, only to discover it was a documentary about termites.

But I was beyond excited. Ignoring his disbelieving look, I snatched it from his slack grip and popped it into the DVD. Besieged Fortress (2006) was enthralling.

Narrated by John Cusack (I love John Cusack), it stars a colony of termites on the African savannah, in Burkina Faso. The photography is extraordinary. The cameras are right there inside the labyrinth of tunnels, deep within the teeming termite metropolis.

Termites build huge mounds, entirely from mud and digested wood. They’re remarkable structures, thermo-regulated, designed for air circulation, and even providing an indoor garden for the mushrooms that help the termites digest cellulose.

You’re rooting for the termites the whole time. Their adorable little sightless eyes, the helpless nymphs, the awesome mandibles on the soldiers, the grotesquely enormous, immobilized queen, her swollen body pulsing with procreation.

And then you see the driver ants pick up the scent of the termite mound. Is your heart rate quickening?

I found myself yelling at the screen, telling them to watch out! Here come the driver ants! You see a large, scary-looking snake get swarmed, immobilized, and torn into itty bitty bite-sized bits by the ravenous army of ants. You feel sorry for the snake. And you know the poor termites–remember the cute termites, with their sightless, bulbous eyes? Yeah, those–will not stand a chance against these ants. When the driver ant soldiers do attack the mound, the ant queen stays back, sending her soldiers instructions via sounds and chemical signals.

There follows an epic battle that had me cringing in horror. I can’t believe they gave this a G rating. It makes Braveheart look like My Little Pony. The termite soldiers are impaled and dismembered, then carried off the battlefield to be eaten later. The worker termites fight to the death to protect their queen, and it’s more suspenseful than any movie I’ve seen in a very long time. I won’t tell you what happens.

I still can’t believe my husband went downstairs to watch the Sweet Sixteen.