The film that epitomises Werner Herzog’s work is Grizzly Man (Werner Herzog, 2005), a beautifully narrated and minimalist film which tells the tragic journey of Timothy Treadwell. Using the subject’s own footage, Herzog explores Treadwell’s obsession with the grizzly bear.
The opening scene sees Treadwell feet away from one such bear and detailing the lengths he will go to assert his dominance over it. With a fairly high-pitched pillow talk voice, like myself, there is an immediate contrast between his attempt at machismo and the reality of the situation. With a slight frame and long hair, a bear would think of him as easy pickings. The chasm between reality and fantasy is the web holding the film together. For months at a time, Treadwell lived with the grizzlies in Alaska’s Katmai National Park. Meek and unarmed, he filmed his time spent alongside the bears and attempted to act as their protector.
During his final summer, Treadwell brought his girlfriend, Amie Huguenard, to join him in filming the bears with a plan to make a documentary series. The 100 hours of footage shot then and during previous summers form the basis of the film. Somehow, Herzog condensed this into 104 minutes and, in so doing, distilled the tragedy that was Treadwell. Coherence is created out of the madness that was the subject’s attempt at becoming one with the bear. In typical macabre Herzog fashion, not 10 minutes in, we are confronted with Treadwell’s end.
The pilot that flew Treadwell and his girlfriend to their ultimate resting place, Fulton, returns to the scene. Landing to pick them up, he finds a ribcage on the shore. Surrounded by flies, the sceptre of death is emphasised, and he walks us up to the bluff where they were attacked and eaten by “Bear 141”. What was Treadwell’s paradise was corrupted by his naivety. The real tragedy was Huguenard’s death: she was likely dragged out there by her boyfriend and paid the ultimate price.
Herzog balances Fulton’s largely critical testimony with that of the Gadness couple explaining Treadwell’s desire to become at one with the Grizzly Bear. Death, he concluded was the best way to do this. Treadwell is portrayed as childlike as we next see him rhyming off the names of bears such as Booble, Freckles and Mr. Chocolate. As a purveyor of chocolate, Mr. Chocolate is my favourite.
At a time of increasing cultural sensitivity, the most profound scene is perhaps the one set at the Aleut museum. A tribal leader, Dr. Sven Hakaanson, emphasises that Treadwell’s reckless antics crossed the boundary that his tribe had maintained for 7,000 years. Standing in front of a stuffed bear, whose paw had been ripped off by western tourists desperate for a souvenir, Treadwell is another symbol of western excess. In summation, his life made a mockery of the native community as his inspiration seems to have been the stereotype of the Indian at one with nature.
One of the last things that is left of Treadwell is a watch. Still running, it is handed to the last person alive who seems to have understood Treadwell, Jewel Palovak. A former girlfriend and employee of his, Palovak co-founded his charity, Grizzly People. Alongside this, she is handed the audio tape that recorded the deaths of Treadwell and Huguenard. Sitting across from Palovak, Herzog listens to Treadwell’s final minutes or at least most of them until he cuts the tape and advises Palovak to destroy it.
In a sense, this is the climax of the film. There is a noticeable turn as, in typical Herzog style, we slowly delve below the surface of the subject. It becomes apparent that Treadwell’s motivations go far beyond merely saving the bears. We learn that his dream, when going by his birth name of Timothy Dexter, was in fact to become an actor. Narrowly missing out on a role in Cheers (James Burrows, Glen Charles, Les Charles, 1982-1993), he quickly spiralled out of control, became a heroin user and in his whirlwind fashion, found himself in Alaska trying to get clean.
At this point in his life, Treadwell appears to have realised that he could become the main character in his own film. There seems to have been a method behind the madness of living with bears. It paid off with appearances on David Letterman, and the Discovery Channel, among others. The Treadwell that we knew was effectively a carefully curated character. His appearance, Peter Pan-esque, with the subject—a most enigmatic carnivore—created a Devil’s brew. The more attention Treadwell got, the more daring he had to become which likely contributed to his decision to extend his summer into early October, a time when the bears are especially hungry. Tragically, his story could not have ended any other way. All that could have been changed was the timeline. In this reality, Treadwell did not do too badly, as he survived 13 summers amidst bears, while not even armed with so much as a canister of pepper spray. In every reality, he was deranged, bordering on psychosis and ultimately craving attention: the ultimate actor.
