This is easily the most difficult review for a film I have done in over three years of doing them, and not just because of recent personal matters that delayed an output of analyses of classic films – which I do sincerely apologize for, by the way, so feel free to imagine me pelted with pseudo-butter sauce from your cinema’s popcorn machine, if it helps. The bigger reason that this took so long is the subject matter of this documentary, and the personal empathy that I found with the tragic, pained character named Timothy Treadwell. Yes, I deliberately used the term “empathy” and not merely “sympathy”, because I can entirely relate to the desperate passion he develops. When you are hit so low and feel so purposeless that hitting rock bottom seems like a distant memory, anything that makes you believe in something better and more promising for your finite existence…well, it remains special for you long after you’ve moved forward. With that in mind, I will try my best to be objective.
ENTRY #16: GRIZZLY MAN (2005)
If you are a fan of watching nature channels or just have an eye for tragic accidents on news broadcasts, you may have heard about an accident involving the man just under a decade ago. Timothy Treadwell, in his 13th summer living among grizzly bears in Alaska, was mauled and eaten by one of the bears he was attempting to protect in October 2003. Alongside him in headlines was Amie Huguenard, who suffered the same grisly (no pun intended) fate. People were mixed in reaction about his demise and for good reason. On the one hand, he was in clear violation – for many years and openly – of numerous policies regarding viewing distance and interactions with the dangerous creatures, put in place for the safety of both visitors and the bears themselves. However, as a result of his work in Katmai National Park and Preserve, his non-profit organization Grizzly People sparked a fascination with children all across the country and gave national attention (through controversy, a quite effective method) to the topic of nature preservation. director Werner Herzog, both in front of the camera and behind it, does everything in his power to present both sides of this unique tale equally. Using a myriad of resources – ranging from CBS footage to interviews with close friend Jewel Palovak to hundreds of hours of footage shot by Treadwell himself – we get a compelling, multi-dimensional portrait of a man obsessed with the creatures he truly loved and the desperate effort to make sense of his death.
This film demands viewers to make their own conclusions, so here is mine and I’ll attempt to be spoiler-free. Clearly, Treadwell had major psychological issues that the film effectively summarizes, some his own fault and some tragic misfortunes. A scholarship is lost, auditions in Hollywood barely fall short, drugs become involved. Put bluntly, he was a lost soul; and whether it was fate or mere chance that led him to the “Grizzly Maze” depends on who you ask. In any case, it transformed him to the degree that he seemed to want to shed, as Herzog, his “humanness” when around them. At the very least, it gave him a sense of purpose and thus reignited his will to make something of his life – a legitimate transformation if its own. You can call what he did reckless, but through footage of Treadwell’s explanations on screen, it is clear this was not an amateur. He knew an incredible amount about the lifestyle of bears and the Alaskan wilderness in general, maybe to a degree that only comes from true immersion. But whenever you have one cause as your only foundation, it can take on an exaggerated presence in your mind – to the point where you, like Treadwell, overestimate your control of the situation. Terrible luck, emotional instability, and hibernation patterns all mixed together in the worst way, and played any differently, Treadwell would still be alive today. But no one would deny that the responsibility for his and Amie’s death falls directly on him, something I think he’s agree with.
It is always saddening when someone’s calling forcibly isolates him from the rest of humanity, and Herzog treats him in such a “sympathetic” way – and I say it that way because he cannot relate to a view of nature like Treadwell’s, that ignores its chaos and uncertainty. But his goal is not to avoid having an opinion but to give Treadwell a fair chance and he does so masterfully. Perfectly alternating between archived footage (Treadwell’s shots were indeed one-of-a-kind), in-depth interviews and gorgeous shots of the turbulent Alaskan wilderness (which, in the area Treadwell spent his time in, was actually federally protected – a very intriguing wrinkle to his “crusade” against oppressive humans), the film never feels disjointed or wavering in its aims or intentions. We know Treadwell’s fate at the beginning of the film, but Herzog’s pushes on anyway in his analysis of Treadwell’s background, his notable paranoia, and his inner demons. There is also a respectful balance between the gory details revealed and which ones are thankfully omitted to viewers; in fact, Herzog’s listening to the audio recording of their deaths is transformed into a scene unlike any I have seen in a documentary, one that gives me a glimpse of Herzog himself as a character in his own work. And ultimately, his “character” does everything he reasonably can to find meaning in Treadwell’s life and death by final reel’s end.
This should be required viewing for any college student hoping to pursue a degree in film or even journalism. It manages to remain even-handed in its presentation of facts while still presenting its own opinion, and thus, welcomes us to do the same. It is not preachy and it is not an easily digested story, but that is what probably makes it mean such different, significant things to different viewers. For hardened skeptics like Herzog, it is an intriguing case of a man who found sanity in his discovery of a passion – only to later lose it when he discarded the boundary between self and object of affection. For people like me, who have has a similar sort of awakening and rediscovery of self, it serves as a cautionary tale that discourages you from blocking out the outside world for the sake of your inner truth. But did Treadwell actually share a unique connection to the bears he regularly interacted with, as he believed he did? In a way, I personally think that he had a certain familiarity or bond (albeit a limited one) with them, simply because he spent so much time in their proximity – something that should be used to validate, condemn and take seriously his overall efforts. Thanks to Herzog, you can understand why anyone else might think differently about him.
Score:
COMING UP NEXT: THE NEVERENDING STORY
