Grizzly Man

There's no doubt that Timothy Treadwell was insane. Just look at the facts; here was a guy who lived (unarmed) with bears, who referred to himself in the third person (always a sure sign of insanity) and who had a loon for a best friend. But entirely because of that, his story is a fascinating one.

At first, what's so amazing about Treadwell is how camp he is. He has a squeaky little voice, a peculiar obsession with his wispy hair and he's always cooing, "I love you" to his animal 'friends'. It seems remarkable that such a person would survive so long in the wilderness. But fortunately for Treadwell, he's both tough and completely insane. Therefore he has the blind confidence of the deluded – he never really thinks about what he's doing.

Treadwell's lack of real insight is summed up in his life's purpose – he wants to protect the bears. But the forces that he's protecting the bears from are amorphous (poachers and the Park Service). They're never really there. And it's telling that when some strangers finally do turn up, Treadwell can only hide in the bushes and film from afar as the men throw rocks at the bears – he doesn't do much protecting.

But as Treadwell admits, it's more about the bears protecting him. Which, I guess, is ridiculous (and it is), but it's also true. As the film shows us, Treadwell was in all kinds of trouble before he went bear crazy. He lost his scholarship, became a drunk and got involved with criminal elements. Had he kept steering that course, he probably would have wound up getting killed. And although it's darkly comic that his new obsession finally did bring about his death, it did at least provide him with a momentary release.

The film that Treadwell shot is both amusing and sad. It's amusing because Treadwell is such a strange figure, declaring himself a 'kind warrior' and touching bear faeces with an almost orgasmic excitement. But it's sad because Treadwell is so out of touch with reality. For example, he gives all the bears cute little names like 'Mr Chocolate' and 'Rowdy' – he even calls a particularly nasty bear 'The Grinch'. All the time he's trying to humanise them. He desperately wants to be their friend. And although at times Treadwell seems to understand that they're killers, it never truly sinks in that they could kill him. "I will not die at their claws and paws," he says.

Another illuminating moment is when one of his fox friends steals his cap. He seems deeply upset; he seems personally affronted. He just doesn't quite grasp the fact that these are wild animals, that they aren't really his pals. But despite this, Treadwell does capture some wonderful moments on film. There's a fantastic bit where he's in his tent playing with the paws of a fox that come poking through from outside. It's here that you can understand why Treadwell has isolated himself from people. It's innocent moments like this that keep him hanging on to the few marbles he has left rattling about in his brain.

But although Treadwell doesn't really understand nature, Herzog does. In his unmistakable German accent he says he sees no kinship in the bear's eyes: "I only see the overwhelming indifference of nature". Everything between Treadwell and the bears is one sided. The love is only his. To them he's just meat. Or as a helicopter pilot says, maybe the bears just thought he was mentally retarded.

And although the film is a wonderful insight into a crazy mind, and although it's poignant and sad, it's also very funny. And it's some of the peripheral characters who provide the biggest laughs. One moment that sticks in my mind is when Herzog is talking to Treadwell's crazy ex-girlfriend. It could and should have been a moving moment, as Herzog is listening to the tape recording of Treadwell's death, but Treadwell's ex is just so bonkers that I couldn't help but guffaw when she broke into some of the weirdest tears I've ever seen – at first it seems like she's laughing. And then you have Herzog, in his gravest tones, telling her that she must never listen to the tape. And she replies, "I know, Werner." No wonder the scene has been parodied.

And then you have the coroner. He really seems to love the fact that he's in front of the camera and decides to ham it up for everyone. And this actually leads me to my one criticism of the film. There are a few sections that are just too staged – the scene with the watch and the bit in the morgue stand out the most. Herzog is obviously trying to give the film more drama, to break away from the restrictions of a documentary, but the people in the film are over the top enough as it is without them acting it up for the camera. The story really doesn't need any spicing up.

But despite that one criticism, Grizzly Man is a wonderful film. It tells the story of a ridiculous man who probably did more harm that good, but at the same time the story is strangely positive. It offers hope to damaged people. It shows that by finding a purpose in life, you can overcome your problems and find some degree of happiness. I guess the trick is to focus your energies on something less dangerous than man-eating bears.

This film proves what little we already know about wildlife: 99% of the time, it will leave you alone as long as you don't harass it, but the 1% is a differential that ends with you screaming and some guy finding your arm later.

It also proves that we know even less about human nature than we do about bears, as Tim Treadwell is a mystery even to his own species.

It's obvious that he has some kind of disorder or drug-related brain damage, what with his extreme lability of mood, delusions of identity, neurotic and repetitive speech patterns, and general paranoia about the activities of his fellow humans. He knows a lot of interesting people, from his geeky friends who state the mundane as though it is profound ("I don't think he had a death wish at all." "I don't think anyone really deserves to be eaten alive by a bear."), to the Friend/Actor who is not even believable when portraying himself, to his very ordinary parents who are just as confused by him as we are.

In this film, we learn that Treadwell switches addictions from alcohol to bears, and descends into functional madness while attempting to integrate himself into their "secret, inner world." He is paradoxical throughout, both disliking humans and yearning for a love relationship, being fully aware of the dangers that the bears pose, but doing nothing to protect himself from them. (Well, he is fatalistic in his devotion to them, but seems to think that they will not harm him as long as he behaves properly around them. That an older, aggressive bear could become hunger-crazed enough to attack him indiscriminately seems beyond his scope.) At times he shows a thorough understanding of animal behavior and the natural world, at other times a grand ignorance of the reality of life in the wilderness. He seems forever stymied trying to enforce human concepts like justice and righteousness upon the jungle. His sentimentality with the bears and perceived relationships there show in stark relief when the animals display constant indifference or even aggression, and when it is clear that some near-altercation with them has occurred off-camera.

In the end, he is really no more successful with bears than he is with people, understanding the basic rules but never seeing the whole picture in clarity enough to know how to avoid crashing and burning.

Perhaps most indicative of his dysfunction is how he responds to the fond relationship he develops with the foxes, who actively play with him and seek his company and interaction. While he loves them, they are but a footnote on his path to destruction; he prefers the ambiguous and imagined affection from the dangerous bears, to the foxes' genuine displays of it.

"Grizzly Man" is not about a man at all; it is a sad, true story about a wayward being without a species.

On this journey, the audience meets a lot of bears that look alike but who we know were distinct to Treadwell, a creepy coroner who is probably not acting, and a slew of observers who all have their own biased and often badly distorted views of "what really happened." In the creamy middle is the quirky pilot who knew Treadwell best, and the director himself, the voice of reason in this well-crafted work.

The moral: Van Halen was right. "It's business as usual in the woods." Animals make sense; it's people that don't.

Upon coming out of Grizzly Man, with my friend, I couldn't help noticing my own face in the reflection of the lobby mirrors... my face was completely blank. I looked over at my friend, and noticed she was merely staring down at her shoes and scratching her nose. Exiting out onto the street, joining the rest of the crowd as we all search for our cars, I couldn't help but believe I was still staring into the lobby mirrors... nearly every head was shaking, and every expression blank.

I now believe I will never know how I feel about Timothy Treadwell. A boy who accidentally grew into a man.

Grizzly Man immediately opens with the facts surrounding Timothy Treadwell and his girlfriend Amie Huguenard's death. These facts will stay inside you as you grow acquainted with Timothy and the animals surrounding his demise. Sadly, Amie Huguenard remains a faceless mystery.

Werner Herzog's soul remains intact, as he gently disassembles the matter of Timothy Treadwell's. Failed actor? Inveterate liar? Misguided Mercenary? Was Timothy Treadwell merely playing out the part of some great Discovery Channel episode in his head? We watch and listen as a lonely Timothy walks and talks into his only companion, a MiniDV camera, about his female problems, drug problems, memories and most importantly his love of animals.

Bears and Foxes in particular. There is one thing you could never doubt about this man, and that is of his love for Bears. "I love you, I love you..." We constantly hear him saying to the Bear's and Foxes that had become his "friends" over the years. And through Herzog's direction it is impossible to miss the beauty in this.

Timothy Treadwell's photography in this film is absolutely extraordinary. And Mr. Herzog did an extraordinary job putting it all together. In my opinion, this is his best film since Little Dieter Needs To Fly. (Un) fortunately, I cannot stop thinking about it. I cannot stop wondering who this man was... He wrapped himself in bandana's, claimed to be a "Peaceful Warrior", there to protect the Bears. But from what? The arguments were made that acquainting himself with them, he was doing much more harm then good. Why should they get to know a human? How could this help them in the future? And we know how it ended for him...

How can you just sit there and watch one mans whole life be wrapped up in a two hour film? And then declare his work meaningless? You can't. Was he just a suicidal man, playing one big act? Was he truly some feral warrior, bringing awareness and the importance of Bear protection and safety to light? Was he a directionless maniac who ultimately got an innocent girl killed?

The duality of Timothy Treadwell is merely one more example of the duality of mankind. And the mirror in which I had been looking into had, in fact, been the movie screen itself. Unfortunately, it appears as though he believed the Bears surrounding him shared this depth. And who am I to tell you they don't?

I like it when I do know know how to feel! Herzog seems to start out by portraying a man, Timothy Treadwell, as a crazy, self-obsessed (NOT Grizzly-obsessed) individual who gets himself and his girlfriend killed for no purpose, in the Alaskan wilderness. Initially I thought that the story was a cross between 'Jackass' and the Discovery Channel - you have a dopey, though he only sounds like it, blonde surfer type who likes to approach (awfully close) and make sweet-talk with 10-foot bears. Viewers might see Timothy as a reckless, selfish misfit, but as the film continues, your appreciation for his cause deepens - but what is his cause? Is it to work out personal demons? Absolutely. Treadwell clearly has mental/emotional problems, just listen to how many times he tells the wild animals "I love you!" or when he talks about his lack of success with "human women." But his passion for the grizzlies and their wilderness is real. Herzog particularly commends him as a filmmaker, seizing unique opportunities and rendering priceless footage. Do not forget that TT lived close to the bears for 13 years (including the year he was killed) without harm; and that his success, his careful, intuitive, loving behavior was only partly self-aggrandizing.

I have so far resisted peer pressure to watch more than the first episodes of Tiger King, but I can still say with confidence that Grizzly Man is vastly superior.

It's truly incredible the amount of empathy Herzog is able to generate for such a misguided, kooky person. It's all the more impressive to see the contrast between Timothy Treadwell's sentimentalized view of nature with Herzog's (and my, for that matter) view that nature is indifferent and chaotic. To mix these two contrasting philosophies with what are, in some sense, two different films--Treadwell's footage and Herzog's narration and interviews--make for something truly moving and insightful.