
Man’s relationship with nature is, at this juncture in civilization, a laughably sensitive one. Most people are afraid of things as tiny and relatively harmless as insects, and the number of man-made products created to combat and protect humans in the woods is staggering; that being said, mankind also has an occasional penchant for mingling with the harsh wild, as is the case in in Werner Herzog’s 2005 documentary Grizzly Man, a real-life expose focusing on one man’s relationship with the ferocious, instinctive reality of the wilderness.
Timothy Treadwell (real name Timothy Dexter) was an ardent environmentalist who spent summers observing grizzly bears within Katmai National Park in Alaska. Filming his exploits over thirteen years, Treadwell amassed 35,000 hours of footage, much of which was taken dramatically close to the bears. In fact, Treadwell “gained the bears’ trust”, naming them (Miss Chocolate, etc.) as well as making direct contact. The sight of Treadwell literally petting wild grizzly bears is shocking- at any moment, these animals could have turned on him, and indeed, they eventually did.
Grizzly Man is a near flawlessly constructed documentary film, aided by the quality of Treadwell’s own footage. While Herzog seamlessly weaves Treadwell’s footage with his interviews and narration, the foundation of the film is built around Treadwell’s own self-documentation, when he was alone in the park for months at a time. During these long spans of solitary existence, Treadwell narrated to the camera, creating his own adventure story as well as airing his insecurities and realizations. “I will die for these animals”, he says repeatedly, and yet he also confesses to the world, or perhaps himself, “I’m very, very troubled”. He contemplates his own sexual orientation, and he clutches a teddy bear in his tent during a rainstorm. A particularly jarring and indicative scene with his psychosis on full display arrives when he finds Miss Chocolate’s poop. He touches it, smells it, and celebrates it to a degree clearly beyond normal human behavior. Even his relationship with a group of foxes is characterized by an eccentric self-narration- he sets his tent next to their den, and they follow him around the wild. When a fox snatches his hat, he is clearly giddy, chasing the fox around, shouting at it like a child. Loneliness, mental illness, and perhaps simply a dangerous curiosity seemed to propel his actions- certainly it was not simply an interest in protecting the bears.
Werner Herzog offers his own insights into Treadwell’s actions- he criticizes the perceived harmony between man and bear, asserting that chaos is the prevalent force in nature, and the bears are wild, unthinking, and hungry animals with zero life in their eyes. While watching Treadwell’s footage, I couldn’t help but strongly agree with the fact that the grizzlies were wild. While beautiful, fascinating creatures, they are not teddy bears.

The interviews that Herzog conduct are also enlightening; the pilot who discovered Treadwell’s half-eaten body (“a bear was devouring a ribcage”), Treadwell’s ex-girlfriend, a strange woman who appears more concerned with her appearance than discussing her ex’s death, and even an Alaskan Inuit, a member of a tribe that both worships and respects the grizzly bears of Alaska, unlike, he says, Treadwell.
By the end of Grizzly Man it is hard to argue that he was at all sane. While appearing somewhat regular (besides a somewhat silly “Prince Valiant” haircut), Treadwell was in fact a disturbed man, perhaps more child than adult, who saw grizzly bears as cuddly friends rather than ferocious beasts. Ultimately, in 2003, while out in “Grizzly Country” with his girlfriend Amie Huguenard, two bears charged his camp partially devouring both of them. Perhaps the most memorable aspect of Herzog’s film is when he listens to a recording (Treadwell’s video camera with the lens cap on), the sounds of Tim and Amie being eaten alive. The footage is under the possession of Timothy’s ex-girlfriend, whom Herzog advises to destroy the tape.
While Grizzly Man is a unique, once-in-a-lifetime story, it must be said that Herzog borders on exploitative. Several of his interviews, namely a mortician, are sensationalist rather than informative. Every interviewee, and no doubt every audience member, has their own take on Treadwell’s actions, and the existence of such intimate footage is both a blessing and a Pandora’s box. It is a fascinating, necessary work of art, demonstrative of the insatiable human spirit and it’s delicate, unique relationship to the wild. Herzog has crafted a brilliant film, unlike any I have ever seen.




