of grizzlies
Jan. 30th, 2006 12:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
alonewiththemoonWatched Werner Herzog's Grizzly Man last night. Big big bears. Just from a film-making standpoint, it was an interesting combination of footage taken by Herzog and footage taken by Timothy Treadwell (or possibly by his cypher of a girlfriend) but chosen and edited by Herzog. Herzog states several times his admiration for Treadwell's filmmaking, although to some extent I would say that the scenery of Alaska does a lot of the job for one. Clearly when watching Treadwell's rants in the wilderness, Herzog was powerfully reminded of himself filming Kinski, seeing a little of each of them in Treadwell. In moments like that, and in the moments where Herzog outlines his philosophy of nature in so many words, it is more a film about who Herzog is, and one wonders about the fairness of using a dead man's footage to make a movie about oneself.
But it was also definitely a movie about Treadwell. Herzog steers pretty clear of making any assumptions or assertions about Treadwell's mental health but through asides made by Treadwell (including a conversation with a fox about his past alcohol abuse) and those who knew him, it was pretty clear the man was not right in the head. I suspect he lasted as long as he did among the bears because animals instinctively avoid other animals that are acting crazy. As the movie started, I was all righteously angry about this man who couldn't see the harm that he was doing by acclimatizing the bears (and a few foxes) to human beings, and by the way that he anthropomorphized the bears and expected them to return his love (his proof that they loved him, I guess, was the fact that they didn't eat him). He claimed to be "studying" the bears, but he didn't seem to have any particular research project, just taking lots of footage so that he could go give talks at elementary schools about his friends the bears. Somebody, I thought, has watched Gorillas in the Mist a few too many times and has a Dian Fossey complex. As the film went on, it became clear that he was not ok at all, that it was more than just a case of a stupid hyperenvironmentalist run amok. But it is too simplistic to dismiss him merely as a crazy person, because he did somehow make these expeditions happen, people believed in him (perhaps only because they wanted to believe in his fairy tale life, but nevertheless they supported him in real life), he did manage somehow to survive quite some time in an environment that is not forgiving of mistakes. I refuse to see him as the sort of incandescent visionary that Herzog wants--and doesn't quite succeed himself, I don't think--to see him as. But still--if I thought I could live amongst bears as their friend, hang out with the foxes (who hung out with him quite willingly of their own accord), and had the means to do it, would I? I think I would be too aware of the danger of acclimatizing wild animals, especially ones that are hunted, to human presence to consider such a thing, but I will admit it would be tempting.
I do think I am glad that I didn't see this movie before my summer in the Alaskan bush. We do not see photos of Treadwell's and his girlfriend's remains, nor do we hear the audio footage that was recorded during the attack of the bear that killed them, but we hear descriptions from the pilot who found pieces of their bodies, from the coroner, from one of the hunters who killed the bear describing its stomach contents, and from those who have heard the recording (Herzog makes it partway into the recording, listening to it with headphones, before asking for it to be stopped, advising the ex-girlfriend of Treadwell who owns the tape to destroy it). It is gruesome, and Herzog masterfully conveys the horror of a bear attack without actually showing us any of its aftermath. Treadwell's girlfriend, who was acknowledged by all to be terrified of bears, tried to drive the bear off with a frying pan as it attacked Treadwell--she must have truly loved him, because not only was it predictably not successful but it cost her her life. I wonder again what I would do in such a situation. Although I know, having lived in the bush briefly, that I would most certainly have a gun. Not that it would necessarily do much good against a grizzly.
I remember, one day that summer in Alaska while the salmon were running, our survey crew stumbled into what was clearly a bear's home turf--big chunks of earth had been torn from the hillside by its claws, the trees were scarred, piles of scat and half-eaten fish everywhere, and an overwhelming smell of musk that went straight from the nose to the most primitive prehistoric scared little mammal part of the brain which screamed run run run! Naturally we found charcoal (unusual in the temperate rainforest and so possibly archaeologically significant and requiring examination) and had to stay in the area while the crew leader took samples, located us on the maps, etc. The rest of us took to the higher bits of ground to keep a lookout and tried to remember that we should talk loudly because that scares away bears, when all we wanted to do was to be very small and hide. I'm sure that bear was watching us from somewhere, the crawling feeling between my shoulderblades said so. We had guns, but we'd heard plenty of stories from the locals about how bears could take shots to the head, the gut, the chest, pretty much anywhere except straight to the heart or the lungs and keep on coming at you, about bears killed by hunters that were found to have well-healed-over bullets embedded in their skulls or shoulderblades or ribs. I suppose that was the most mortal danger I'd ever felt myself in, apart perhaps from the moments of car accidents, and yet even as it was happening it was something that had to be accepted. We were in nature; nature could act upon us. I suppose Treadwell would tell me that I was brainwashed by society to be afraid of bears and that I would be safe as long as I loved the bears. But I, with Herzog, recognize that no amount of anthropomorphizing (Treadwell would certainly deny that's what he was doing, but he was) will change the fact that nature simply does not care what happens to you. That doesn't make it any less beautiful or magnificent or admirable or even cute in the form of cubs and kits, but it is not going to do you any favors. And in the end, we're made of meat. I am glad that I had the chance to come to this realization for myself, and saddened for his sake that Treadwell could not see this before a hungry bear spotted his prey and did what a hungry bear does. I'm guessing his fox friends helped themselves to the leftovers.
But it was also definitely a movie about Treadwell. Herzog steers pretty clear of making any assumptions or assertions about Treadwell's mental health but through asides made by Treadwell (including a conversation with a fox about his past alcohol abuse) and those who knew him, it was pretty clear the man was not right in the head. I suspect he lasted as long as he did among the bears because animals instinctively avoid other animals that are acting crazy. As the movie started, I was all righteously angry about this man who couldn't see the harm that he was doing by acclimatizing the bears (and a few foxes) to human beings, and by the way that he anthropomorphized the bears and expected them to return his love (his proof that they loved him, I guess, was the fact that they didn't eat him). He claimed to be "studying" the bears, but he didn't seem to have any particular research project, just taking lots of footage so that he could go give talks at elementary schools about his friends the bears. Somebody, I thought, has watched Gorillas in the Mist a few too many times and has a Dian Fossey complex. As the film went on, it became clear that he was not ok at all, that it was more than just a case of a stupid hyperenvironmentalist run amok. But it is too simplistic to dismiss him merely as a crazy person, because he did somehow make these expeditions happen, people believed in him (perhaps only because they wanted to believe in his fairy tale life, but nevertheless they supported him in real life), he did manage somehow to survive quite some time in an environment that is not forgiving of mistakes. I refuse to see him as the sort of incandescent visionary that Herzog wants--and doesn't quite succeed himself, I don't think--to see him as. But still--if I thought I could live amongst bears as their friend, hang out with the foxes (who hung out with him quite willingly of their own accord), and had the means to do it, would I? I think I would be too aware of the danger of acclimatizing wild animals, especially ones that are hunted, to human presence to consider such a thing, but I will admit it would be tempting.
I do think I am glad that I didn't see this movie before my summer in the Alaskan bush. We do not see photos of Treadwell's and his girlfriend's remains, nor do we hear the audio footage that was recorded during the attack of the bear that killed them, but we hear descriptions from the pilot who found pieces of their bodies, from the coroner, from one of the hunters who killed the bear describing its stomach contents, and from those who have heard the recording (Herzog makes it partway into the recording, listening to it with headphones, before asking for it to be stopped, advising the ex-girlfriend of Treadwell who owns the tape to destroy it). It is gruesome, and Herzog masterfully conveys the horror of a bear attack without actually showing us any of its aftermath. Treadwell's girlfriend, who was acknowledged by all to be terrified of bears, tried to drive the bear off with a frying pan as it attacked Treadwell--she must have truly loved him, because not only was it predictably not successful but it cost her her life. I wonder again what I would do in such a situation. Although I know, having lived in the bush briefly, that I would most certainly have a gun. Not that it would necessarily do much good against a grizzly.
I remember, one day that summer in Alaska while the salmon were running, our survey crew stumbled into what was clearly a bear's home turf--big chunks of earth had been torn from the hillside by its claws, the trees were scarred, piles of scat and half-eaten fish everywhere, and an overwhelming smell of musk that went straight from the nose to the most primitive prehistoric scared little mammal part of the brain which screamed run run run! Naturally we found charcoal (unusual in the temperate rainforest and so possibly archaeologically significant and requiring examination) and had to stay in the area while the crew leader took samples, located us on the maps, etc. The rest of us took to the higher bits of ground to keep a lookout and tried to remember that we should talk loudly because that scares away bears, when all we wanted to do was to be very small and hide. I'm sure that bear was watching us from somewhere, the crawling feeling between my shoulderblades said so. We had guns, but we'd heard plenty of stories from the locals about how bears could take shots to the head, the gut, the chest, pretty much anywhere except straight to the heart or the lungs and keep on coming at you, about bears killed by hunters that were found to have well-healed-over bullets embedded in their skulls or shoulderblades or ribs. I suppose that was the most mortal danger I'd ever felt myself in, apart perhaps from the moments of car accidents, and yet even as it was happening it was something that had to be accepted. We were in nature; nature could act upon us. I suppose Treadwell would tell me that I was brainwashed by society to be afraid of bears and that I would be safe as long as I loved the bears. But I, with Herzog, recognize that no amount of anthropomorphizing (Treadwell would certainly deny that's what he was doing, but he was) will change the fact that nature simply does not care what happens to you. That doesn't make it any less beautiful or magnificent or admirable or even cute in the form of cubs and kits, but it is not going to do you any favors. And in the end, we're made of meat. I am glad that I had the chance to come to this realization for myself, and saddened for his sake that Treadwell could not see this before a hungry bear spotted his prey and did what a hungry bear does. I'm guessing his fox friends helped themselves to the leftovers.
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no subject
Date: 2006-01-30 07:48 pm (UTC)The best review I read called him 'a hoser Dian Fossey.'
(He never gets very close to any bears, despite spending a lot of time 'tracking' one.)
no subject
Date: 2006-01-30 10:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-31 04:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-30 08:43 pm (UTC)No, can't say I've ever been tempted to get close to bears. Especially grizzlies. I saw one video of some idiot attempting to feed one to get a shot on his videocamera, and getting mauled.
But I had no idea they could take a bullet to the head.
no subject
Date: 2006-01-30 09:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-31 04:24 pm (UTC)Bears of the world, protect your filmic rights!
Well, at least whatever Herzog sees a bear as includes the knowledge that a bear can kill you and eat you--however Herzog goes, it probably won't be by bear attack.
scared me shitless
Date: 2006-01-31 02:34 am (UTC)Re: scared me shitless
Date: 2006-01-31 04:27 pm (UTC)no need to apologize for random comments :-)