When I think of Werner Herzog, I think of his gas mask wearing, blues-listening maniac father role in the film Julien Donkey-Boy. Whatever you think of Harmony Korine’s day-glo nightmare of a movie, the casting of Herzog was inspired. Werner is inherently idiosyncratic, a singularly demented force of nature, and left-field weirdo cinema would be much less fun without him.
It’s hard to think of someone who would make Grizzly Man with the same degree of empathy as this guy. The documentary follows bear enthusiast Timothy Treadwell. Another singular character, Treadwell regularly travelled to Alaska to observe grizzly bears. He films his every interaction with the beasts. In the last few years of his life, he made trips with his girlfriend Amie. They both got killed in October 2003 there, by one of the more unruly of the animals he was following.
The key to the movie is the way Herzog approaches his material. He does not condescend his subject, or raises an eyebrow in bemusement at Tim’s audacious tracking and interactions of his curiousity. Herzog plays it straight, acting as an only occasional narrator and interviewer, barely appearing on the camera (we only see the back of his head, his back and his arms). Subsequentally, the few direct character judgements come from the people who knew Treadwell, in disarmingly frank interviews. Herzog sifts through Treadwell’s self-shot footage and probes the man’s nearest and dearest, but he also believes a man has got to do what he has got to do.
The director also seems to identify with Treadwell as a filmmaker. It’s clear that Treadwell has a complex relationship with the camera; it’s hard to say how much is performed persona for the camera. This is a question which underscores most documentaries, but is brought to the fore here. The backbone of the movie is composed of this filming; Treadwell on Treadwell; the man in his own words. Throughout, not only do we ask ourselves why he, Treadwell, is shooting the footage (is it, as Herzog suggests ‘a tool to get his message across’, or is it one giant home move? There is some pretty bald, confessional material here) but why we are watching proceedings. Are we waiting for footage of the mauling?
Naturally it’s not just Herzog behind the film; it helps that Treadwell filmed interactions with the bears. It is footage that speaks for itself. There are several uncomfortably close encounters shown from the outset. It’s heart-in-your-mouth stuff. There is one scene of bears fighting which is time-stopping, and rivals the output of the BBC’s Bristol nature unit. There’s also some affecting, unusual film of the man’s relationship with tame foxes. Everything is awash with tragedy, not only because we know that Treadwell eventually succumbs to the wildness of his bears, but because his girlfriend is also a victim, and because this guy is clearly desperate and deeply damaged.
As the film enters its second half; the apparency that this man’s tragedy was there from the start really begins to hurt. Treadwell's troubled past is gradually revealed; as suspected, his independence is portrayed as borne out of darkness, pain and sadness, of weakness, rather than strength. As we learn more about him, the continuing footage displayed, gains extra effect with every new piece of information. The film is cemented as something beyond a curiosity; it has real, excoriating resonance.
Herzog’s central characters are usually on the edge of society, dancing with madness, and strongly independent. Indeed, he is currently touting his re-imagining of Abel Ferara’s Bad Lieutenant around the festival circuit. But it’s with Grizzly Bear he has gained the most attention, the most plaudits and the most awards. It’s an extraordinary film; a combination of two unique, extraordinary individuals. It’s frightening, fascinating and deeply sad. It’s pretty fucking different.
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