The killer stalks forward. Its snarling muzzle of razor sharp teeth exposed as black lips curl back. Muscular chops (possessing agonizingly crushing force) twitch in anticipation, and viscous saliva drips. The hunter’s eyes, without mercy, stare down villainously upon the helpless prey, for whom all hope is lost.
This ridiculous contrived partial narrative could describe any number of predatory mammals on the hunt, and it illustrates how an author’s bias of a subject or character can completely color and/ or cloud the message being relayed. Is the description referring to a big bad wolf, a rabid dog, one of the man-eating lions of Tsavo? One’s own perspective can either consciously or subconsciously alter the message being conveyed to others. Re-read the first sentence with a feisty puppy and a tennis ball in mind; the meaning changes from horror to humor.
The ability for individual opinion to influence others is as much a factor in wildlife films as in literature. In fact, film’s narrative form, the vessel by which a story is conveyed, owes its origin to the novel, popular when film was first invented and explored. In his book Wildlife Films, Derek Bousé quotes film theory author Robert Ray: ‘‘Cinema’s apparently natural subjection of style to narration in fact depended on a historical accident: the movies’ origins lay in a late nineteenth century whose predominant popular arts were the novel and the theater” (p. 19).[1] Consequently, just as an author transfers a narrative’s reality from the mind to the audience via pen or keyboard, a director does the same with film.
We have seen a lion portrayed as a menacing and murderous nuisance worthy only of execution in the Johnson’s Simba: King of the Beasts (1928). Louis Jean Lumière’s Pelicans, Lion, and Tigers at the London Zoological Gardens (1895) stars a tiger and another lion; both of whom were provoked to provide a good show but equated to the villainization of their species to the public. Despite fathering oceanic conservation, even Jacques Cousteau’s prejudice against sharks is clearly evident in The Silent World (1954) as the narrator states, “All the sailors of the world hate sharks” and "sharks are the mortal enemies of sailors." However, Cousteau (in contrast to the aforementioned filmmakers) had justification for his abhorrence of an apex predator; as a former French naval officer in World War II, he most certainly had knowledge of the USS Indianapolis and its crew’s fate. Conversely, Walt Disney utilized anthropomorphism to alter public opinion (and initiate the commodification) of rodents with Mickey Mouse, even though mice present a greater threat to humans through the spread of disease and waste related illnesses (like histoplasmosis) than lions, tigers, and sharks combined. For better or worse, the attitude and approach a filmmaker takes toward his or her subject matter can positively or negatively impact the public’s opinion of that animal.
From lions and tigers - to bears; Werner Herzog's Grizzly Man (2005) provides two often conflicting perspectives on Alaskan grizzly bears. On one hand is the shaky handheld video footage captured by Timothy Treadwell during his years in the wilderness. It is accompanied by the false-accented, falsetto-sounding rantings of an obviously unstable and mentally ill individual who explores taboo topics (from sexuality to the search for self) in a still steaming pile of feces. “I can feel the poop! It's warm! It just came from her butt! This was just inside of her. My girl! I'm touching it! ... Everything about them is perfect!"[2] The childlike enthusiasm and blind adoration Treadwell openly expresses for bears couples with a religious fervor and attachment to the perceived soul-cleansing power of the camera. Proximity related ethical wildlife violations, and the consequences of habituation and domestication are of no concern to Treadwell; he names and blatantly anthropomorphizes the wild brown bears and a resident fox. Per the helicopter pilot that retrieved the couple’s remains, “He was treating them like people in bear costumes.”[3] The obsessive love for bears melded with Treadwell’s unorthodox field ethics in an effort to increase public awareness and elicit a positive emotional connection between bears and humanity. However, the mission at any cost, and the unhealthy attachment to the dangerous animals demonstrate an unhealthy mind; “I'm in love with my animal friends. I'm in love with my animal friends! In love with my animal friends. I'm very, very troubled. It's very emotional... I'm so in love with them, and they're so f-ed over, which so sucks.”[4] Treadwell lacked logic and allowed emotion to cloud his view of reality; he used the animals and camera as his personal psychotherapists and was in the wilderness for his own needs instead of theirs. The shaky-handheld videography (though successful in obtaining moments of incredible footage), psychologically disturbing banter, and unethical behaviors are in stark contrast to the film’s director.
Werner Herzog’s precision, perfectionism, and professionalism (as one would expect from a filmmaker originating from the home of German Expressionism) bring the film and audience back into a much welcome reality from Treadwell’s trip down the rabbit hole. In a type of human interest exposé, Herzog uses exposition documentary filmmaking to dive into the psychological and personal factors that caused Treadwell to venture into a world ill-suited for human habitation. Though offering informed interpretations, Herzog objectively reports his findings, which show Treadwell’s purpose in both positive and negative lights. However, his opinion of the deceased man’s unhealthy affection for bears and unsafe encroachment upon their habitat is not withheld. In an interview with NPR, Herzog states, “You should not love the bears; you should respect them. Keep your distance and respect them.”[5] Treadwell’s close proximity to the bears was most certainly a defining factor in not only his fame, but ultimately his death. This view on maintaining distance to wildlife is supported throughout the film by experts, and Herzog summarizes, “nature is cold and harsh. Treadwell’s view clouded his thinking and led him to underestimate danger, resulting in his death and that of his girlfriend.”[6] The director’s intended message to the audience is one of cautious respect, “And while we watch the animals in their joys of being, in their grace and ferociousness, a thought becomes more and more clear. That it is not so much a look at wild nature, as it is an insight into ourselves, our nature.”[7]
Looking into the nature of mankind does not always reveal a pretty picture. Fear and ignorance (blended with a healthy dose of fiction and lore) can cause humans to behave badly. As narrated in Bill Mason’s 1971 documentary film Death of a Legend, “We’ve tried our very best to exterminate the wolf. Terror and hatred - the pioneer felt for the wolf, for he had inherited the horror stories - the legends from Europe.” From Little Red Riding Hood of European origins, to the werewolf films of the Universal Pictures monsters series, wolves have habitually been portrayed as blood thirsty savages. At best, they are blamed for slaughtering livestock; at worst, murdering innocent humans. Feared and hunted since early man realized he was competing for the same resources, wolves were deemed a threat, and they are now considered an endangered species.[8] However, changing popular opinion (based on fear, misinformation, and verbal traditional stories) is no easy task.
Bill Mason, an avid outdoorsman, filmmaker, and conservationist, chose to rewrite the apex predator’s story as advocate instead of adversary. Per filmmaker and author Chris Palmer, “This 1971 documentary broke new ground by refusing to paint wolves as evil killers. As the film depicted them, they were superb predators, but they rarely attacked livestock and almost never harmed humans. They were also loyal and affectionate caregivers and good communicators” (p. 2).[9] Death of a Legend provides perspectives from the farmer, rancher, and secluded wilderness homesteader, but it differs by also representing the wolf’s struggle for survival. Previously, only the inconvenience to humans and animals caused by wolves was emphasized, but Mason allows the audience to identify with the animal by revealing its common characteristics. The wolf mother affectionately cares for her pups, and the father remains present throughout. Further, the pack aids in raising the young, and the adorable pup’s grim odds for survival are solemnly narrated. Should he be lucky enough to reach adulthood, his pelt already has a bounty on it. Mason ties the wolf’s fate to mankind’s heartstrings.
Both Tredwell and Mason focused on (and advocated for) what would be considered dangerous predators. They both obtained amazing footage that had previously been unseen. Each found a refuge in the wilderness, but in different ways and for different reasons. Per Canadian communications and film instructor Tom Shoebridge[10] in his 1979 National Film Board Publication His Camera : the Land and its Creatures, Mason “stays in the wilderness during the shooting, sleeping in a tent or under his canoe. To many people, living alone in the wilderness for long periods of time would be a hardship, but Mason loves it.”[11] Instead of psychotherapy and the company of fuzzy friends, love for nature and its inhabitants are the motivation for Death of a Legend; the director explains, "The medium of film is for me a means of expressing my love and enjoyment of the natural world, and of sharing my concern for what's happening to it with anybody who looks and listens.”[12]
Since a major difference between Grizzly Man and Death of a Legend is protagonist related (Tredwell in the former and the wolf itself in the latter), the audience does not learn about what drew Mason specifically towards the wolf; the story was not about the filmmaker but about the actual animals themselves. However, Shoebridge commented, “He deals only with topics which he has either experienced or has thought through completely, and to which he is firmly committed.”[13] Further in contrast to Treadwell’s ethical violations, the effort with which Mason obtained his footage indicates that though guidelines for wildlife filmmaking were in their adolescence, hard work and perseverance replace lunacy and luck. “Once there, he is a perfectionist who tirelessly searches out the ideal location, sets up and then waits for exactly the right lighting or action.” Rather than a human’s personal relationship with a wild animal community, the viewer is able to learn about the complex relationships within a wolf pack from Mason’s meticulously planned shots. Instead of Treadwell’s maniacal exultations at digested organic matter, Mason allows the audience to witness birth in the den; the miracle of life speaks with dignity for itself. By remaining silently behind the camera and focusing on the wildlife instead of himself, Mason makes a stronger argument for his cause and left a more respectable legacy worldwide after his passing.
The audience’s take-away from a film is directly linked to how material is presented. Specifically, in wildlife film, a filmmaker has an obligation to ensure that the animals are safely front and center; ethical violations, egos, and psychosis not only detract from an intended message’s delivery, but may cause others to emulate potentially harmful behavior as well. Further, strong feelings are possible by association; it is possible for an individual to so love or detest Treadwell that his beloved bears are hurt as a result of human emotions. Despite Herzog’s efforts, Treadwell’s distorted reality was evident in Grizzly Man. However, the existence and nature of the Canadian wolf (and wildlife films as a sub-genre of documentaries), were most assuredly enhanced by Mason’s Death of a Legend. Though the Alaskan brown bear is not a stuffed teddy toy, and the Canadian wolf is not a murdering menace, audiences will be influenced by how an animal is portrayed in a film. This key factor is based on the approach taken by the filmmaker, which is influenced by his or her experience. Reality is therefore pliable and may be enhanced or distorted as a result.
[1] Derek Bousé, Wildlife Films (University of Pennsylvania Press, 2000), accessed July 31, 2017, http://0-www.jstor.org.library.lemoyne.edu/stable/j.ctt3fhgg4.
[2] “Film/Grizzly Man,” tvtropes, accessed July 31, 2017, http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Film/GrizzlyMan.
[3] Roger Ebert, “Grizzly Man,” RogerEbert.com, last modified August 11, 2005, http://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/grizzly-man-2005.
[4] “Grizzly Man (2005),” IMDb, accessed July 29, 2017, http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0427312/trivia?tab=qt&ref_=tt_trv_qu.
[5] Scott Simon, “Grizzly Man,' Herzog's Human Nature Tale,” NPR.org, last modified July 30, 2005, http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=4778191.
[6] “Grizzly Man,” InMotionMedia.Co.UK, last modified February 8, 2007, http://www.inmotionmedia.co.uk/2017/02/08/grizzly-man.
[7] Christopher Orr, “Bear Witness,” New Republic, last modified January 10, 2006, https://newrepublic.com/article/60673/bear-witness.
[9] Chris Palmer, Shooting in the Wild: An Insider's Account of Making Movies in the Animal Kingdom (Counterpoint, 2010), Kindle edition.
[10] “Tom Shoebridge – Biography,” PEI Screen Writers’ Bootcamp, accessed August 1, 2017, http://www.peiscreenwritersbootcamp.net/yahoo_site_admin/assets/docs/Tom_Shoebridge.1473031.pdf.
[11] “Bill Mason: About the Film-maker,” Redcanoes.ca, accessed August 1, 2017, https://web.archive.org/web/20050218042120/http://www.redcanoes.ca:80/bill/about.html.
[12] “Bill Mason: Film-maker,” Redcanoes.ca, accessed August 1, 2017, https://web.archive.org/web/20050211061932/http://www.redcanoes.ca:80/bill/filmmaker.html.
[13] “Bill Mason: About the Film-maker,” Redcanoes.ca, accessed August 1, 2017, https://web.archive.org/web/20050218042120/http://www.redcanoes.ca:80/bill/about.html.
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