Grizzly Man

Documentaries are usually pretty satisfying as viewing material goes. Usually edifying and often thought-provoking, nothing goes better than a cup of coffee and a pretentious art school date than a fine documentary. But every now and then, a nonfiction film can flat-out change the way you think, and Grizzly Man is one of these. Director Werner Herzog takes on a challenging topic, the grisly (pun intended) death of a naturalist named Timothy Treadwell and his girlfriend at the hands, or paws, of a grizzly bear, and he succeeds admirably. He positions himself clearly by pointing out the ethical dilemmas he faced during the making of the documentary, and in fact remains so tactful in his presentation of the topic that he and his humanity become part of the story. His interview subjects come off as alternately morbid, angry, and loving. The morbidity comes largely from the coroner who worked with the ill-fated couple’s remains, and who seems to get a wee bit too much pleasure out of describing the details of the unfortunate event. And details there are. Nobody rents a movie about a horrific bear attack without wanting to hear at least a little of the juicy stuff, so this seems appropriate, but Herzog is no paparazzo, and he makes that clear in a scene where he recommends that a friend of the couple destroy an audio tape of the deaths, which remains in her possession and most assuredly out of the film.

What remains the most affecting about this film, however, is the overwhelming sense of dread and horror of what happened, combined with the beauty and adventure of Timothy’s life in the wild. The fact that he captured so much of his life, and such a wide range of emotions and experiences, makes it all the more amazing. You can’t help but envy him a little as foxes follow him around like dogs, and as he describes his relationships with beloved bears. He had befriended some of these creatures for over ten years, and there is adequate proof that the bear who saw fit to end his life was not one that he’d established a relationship with, and in fact was unusually aggressive and unstable. This only goes to further Timothy’s case for the possibility of safe bear-human cohabitation. Not that I ever had my doubts.

If this film is one thing, it’s haunting. Also, every time I see a picture of a bear, I feel a kinship that wasn’t there before. I can’t ask much more than that from a film. Except perhaps robot bears.