Tim Campbell
2005-09-18 20:47:06 UTC
When the movie ended and the credits rolled for "Grizzly Man," the bear
experts who had watched the closed screening seemed speechless.
But they had plenty to say that was not said in the movie about Timothy
Treadwell, a self-made wildlife celebrity who was killed along with his
girlfriend by bears in Alaska's Katmai National Park on Oct. 5, 2003.
The film, which had a premiere opening in Whitefish Thursday night and
is scheduled for seven more local showings, is a documentary that
reveals Treadwell's psychological instability and obsession with
filming and "protecting" huge Alaskan brown bears.
The documentary, which won the Alfred B. Sloan Award at this year's
Sundance Film Festival, was billed in the Hollywood Reporter as "a
mesmerizing portrait of a man who staged a 13-year dance with death."
What's missing from the film is Treadwell's broader, harmful legacy of
misleading the public about how to behave around wild bears, said bear
managers, park rangers and wildlife education advocates who watched it
Wednesday.
The group was assembled by the Glacier Institute, which sponsored the
film's local showings, for a panel discussion following Thursday
night's premiere.
Treadwell was at the leading edge of a wildlife entertainment industry
that "is completely out of control," said Chuck Bartlebaugh, executive
director of the Center for Wildlife Information in MIssoula.
Bartlebaugh referred to a newspaper story about a North Carolina man
who intends to follow in Treadwell's footsteps in Alaska. Like
Treadwell, the man has no formal training or experience pertaining to
bears. But unlike Treadwell, the man plans to carry a .44 Magnum
handgun for protection even though guns are banned in national parks.
Park rangers at Katmai regularly see people getting far too close to
bears, despite park regulations that require set distances from the
animals and in some cases they attribute it to Treadwell's influence,
Bartlebaugh said.
Even in Glacier National Park, it is a "constant challenge" to educate
visitors about how to behave in bear country, said Gary Moses, a
veteran Glacier ranger.
Moses and Dave Dahlen, the park's chief of interpretation, agree that
"Grizzly Man" will have an influence on future visitors for years to
come.
Moses has seen it before, following the release of a movie called
"Peacock's War," a sort of docu-drama that recounted Doug Peacock's
experiences of living among grizzly bears when he worked at Glacier's
Huckleberry Lookout.
After the movie's release, Moses said visitors would regularly inquire
about how to get to an area that Peacock referred to as "the Grizzly
Hilton."
"Grizzly Man" opens with Treadwell standing in the foreground as two
large brown bears roam no more than 20 yards behind him. Further
footage shows Treadwell literally brushing up against a bear with his
camera, swimming with bears, touching bears and on several occasions,
standing with his back to bears less than 10 yards behind him.
That kind of footage found its way into productions featuring Treadwell
that were shown on television and in classrooms across the country.
The documentary shows how Treadwell, a failed actor from Southern
California, transformed himself into a wildlife showman who was
featured in national magazines and television programs. David Letterman
is shown asking Treadwell if the public should expect to read about him
being killed by grizzly bears someday.
"People really glommed onto him as being sort of a bear whisperer, and
he figured that out," said Mike Lapinski, an author from Superior who
recently published a book about Treadwell called "Death in the Grizzly
Maze."
Treadwell marketed himself as being a person who had a unique
relationship with bears, and he incorrectly presented the Alaskan
browns as "grizzly" bears for marketing purposes, Bartlebaugh said.
"Grizzly" is a regional term applied to the ursus arctos bear species
of interior North America. It's an important distinction, Bartlebaugh
said, because the larger, salmon-fed Alaskan browns congregate and can
be tolerant of nearby humans.
Grizzly bears of the Northern Rockies, however, are far more solitary
animals that establish large home ranges where there are less abundant
food sources. The ones that live the longest are the ones that tend to
avoid humans.
Eric Wenum, a Montana Fish, Wildlife and Parks wildlife conflict
specialist, is concerned about the potential behavior of people who
have been influenced by how Treadwell behaved around the coastal brown
bears.
"To walk out and try to touch a bear here, oh man, it's not going to go
so well," Wenum said.
Lapinski contends that Treadwell suffered from bipolar disorder. Manic
behavior is obvious in the documentary.
"What was interesting to me was how much he talked about death and
dying," said Tim Manley, the Montana Fish, Wildlife and Parks grizzly
bear management specialist in the Flathead and Glacier areas.
The documentary shows Treadwell musing on camera over his own possible
death, and at one point, boasting that he is camping in the most
dangerous place on the planet.
Treadwell is shown at times frantically telling nearby bears how much
he loves them. In another scene, he is weeping over a fox that had
apparently been killed by wolves and a bee that had died on a flower.
Repeatedly, Treadwell talks about how he is a lone guardian for the
bears against "poachers," even though the bears are well protected
within the boundaries of a national park where hunting and firearms are
prohibited.
"I'm the only person out here protecting the bears," Treadwell says at
one point, later going on an expletive-riddled tirade against the
National Park Service.
Treadwell refused to comply with park regulations that require visitors
to periodically move their camps, and he was in constant violation of
regulations that require visitors to maintain set distances from bears.
But somehow Treadwell was never cited or banned from the park.
Near the end the documentary, German director Werner Herzog concludes
that Treadwell never had any special bond with the bears, which express
only "the overwhelming indifference of nature."
Wenum and Manley said Treadwell didn't seem to recognize basic
behavioral responses of bears that were captured on film. The two noted
that there are scenes where bears are laying back their ears, but
Treadwell seems oblivious to the subtle, aggressive posturing.
In footage of Treadwell's girlfriend, Amie Huguenard, taken by
Treadwell just days before her death, there is a large bear right
behind her, rocking from side to side.
"That's a huge, huge stress indicator," Wenum said.
Brian Peck, a consultant with the Great Bear Foundation, said that he
and others urged, even begged Treadwell to change his practices around
bears. Treadwell indicated that he would, but "Grizzly Man" shows that
he didn't.
"Did anybody see anything of value that Tim did for bears?" Bartlebaugh
asked the panelists. None had any response.
The two bears that were found feeding on Treadwell and Huguenard's
bodies were killed by park rangers.
Even though the documentary reflects Treadwell's emotional instability
and it paints a true picture of his background, some viewers are going
to admire him, Lipinski predicts.
"I think you experts have a daunting task," he told the panelists. If
there's an audience of 250 people, he said, "there's going to be at
least 50 who think he's a really great guy."
And when the film is shown to audiences in Ohio or New York, there will
be no panel of bear experts on hand.
"Grizzly Man" will be shown at the O'Shaugnessy Center in Whitefish at
8 p.m. today and at 1, 4 and 7 p.m. Saturday and Sunday. Tickets are
$7.
Reporter Jim Mann may be reached at 758-4407 or by e-mail at
***@dailyinterlake.com
experts who had watched the closed screening seemed speechless.
But they had plenty to say that was not said in the movie about Timothy
Treadwell, a self-made wildlife celebrity who was killed along with his
girlfriend by bears in Alaska's Katmai National Park on Oct. 5, 2003.
The film, which had a premiere opening in Whitefish Thursday night and
is scheduled for seven more local showings, is a documentary that
reveals Treadwell's psychological instability and obsession with
filming and "protecting" huge Alaskan brown bears.
The documentary, which won the Alfred B. Sloan Award at this year's
Sundance Film Festival, was billed in the Hollywood Reporter as "a
mesmerizing portrait of a man who staged a 13-year dance with death."
What's missing from the film is Treadwell's broader, harmful legacy of
misleading the public about how to behave around wild bears, said bear
managers, park rangers and wildlife education advocates who watched it
Wednesday.
The group was assembled by the Glacier Institute, which sponsored the
film's local showings, for a panel discussion following Thursday
night's premiere.
Treadwell was at the leading edge of a wildlife entertainment industry
that "is completely out of control," said Chuck Bartlebaugh, executive
director of the Center for Wildlife Information in MIssoula.
Bartlebaugh referred to a newspaper story about a North Carolina man
who intends to follow in Treadwell's footsteps in Alaska. Like
Treadwell, the man has no formal training or experience pertaining to
bears. But unlike Treadwell, the man plans to carry a .44 Magnum
handgun for protection even though guns are banned in national parks.
Park rangers at Katmai regularly see people getting far too close to
bears, despite park regulations that require set distances from the
animals and in some cases they attribute it to Treadwell's influence,
Bartlebaugh said.
Even in Glacier National Park, it is a "constant challenge" to educate
visitors about how to behave in bear country, said Gary Moses, a
veteran Glacier ranger.
Moses and Dave Dahlen, the park's chief of interpretation, agree that
"Grizzly Man" will have an influence on future visitors for years to
come.
Moses has seen it before, following the release of a movie called
"Peacock's War," a sort of docu-drama that recounted Doug Peacock's
experiences of living among grizzly bears when he worked at Glacier's
Huckleberry Lookout.
After the movie's release, Moses said visitors would regularly inquire
about how to get to an area that Peacock referred to as "the Grizzly
Hilton."
"Grizzly Man" opens with Treadwell standing in the foreground as two
large brown bears roam no more than 20 yards behind him. Further
footage shows Treadwell literally brushing up against a bear with his
camera, swimming with bears, touching bears and on several occasions,
standing with his back to bears less than 10 yards behind him.
That kind of footage found its way into productions featuring Treadwell
that were shown on television and in classrooms across the country.
The documentary shows how Treadwell, a failed actor from Southern
California, transformed himself into a wildlife showman who was
featured in national magazines and television programs. David Letterman
is shown asking Treadwell if the public should expect to read about him
being killed by grizzly bears someday.
"People really glommed onto him as being sort of a bear whisperer, and
he figured that out," said Mike Lapinski, an author from Superior who
recently published a book about Treadwell called "Death in the Grizzly
Maze."
Treadwell marketed himself as being a person who had a unique
relationship with bears, and he incorrectly presented the Alaskan
browns as "grizzly" bears for marketing purposes, Bartlebaugh said.
"Grizzly" is a regional term applied to the ursus arctos bear species
of interior North America. It's an important distinction, Bartlebaugh
said, because the larger, salmon-fed Alaskan browns congregate and can
be tolerant of nearby humans.
Grizzly bears of the Northern Rockies, however, are far more solitary
animals that establish large home ranges where there are less abundant
food sources. The ones that live the longest are the ones that tend to
avoid humans.
Eric Wenum, a Montana Fish, Wildlife and Parks wildlife conflict
specialist, is concerned about the potential behavior of people who
have been influenced by how Treadwell behaved around the coastal brown
bears.
"To walk out and try to touch a bear here, oh man, it's not going to go
so well," Wenum said.
Lapinski contends that Treadwell suffered from bipolar disorder. Manic
behavior is obvious in the documentary.
"What was interesting to me was how much he talked about death and
dying," said Tim Manley, the Montana Fish, Wildlife and Parks grizzly
bear management specialist in the Flathead and Glacier areas.
The documentary shows Treadwell musing on camera over his own possible
death, and at one point, boasting that he is camping in the most
dangerous place on the planet.
Treadwell is shown at times frantically telling nearby bears how much
he loves them. In another scene, he is weeping over a fox that had
apparently been killed by wolves and a bee that had died on a flower.
Repeatedly, Treadwell talks about how he is a lone guardian for the
bears against "poachers," even though the bears are well protected
within the boundaries of a national park where hunting and firearms are
prohibited.
"I'm the only person out here protecting the bears," Treadwell says at
one point, later going on an expletive-riddled tirade against the
National Park Service.
Treadwell refused to comply with park regulations that require visitors
to periodically move their camps, and he was in constant violation of
regulations that require visitors to maintain set distances from bears.
But somehow Treadwell was never cited or banned from the park.
Near the end the documentary, German director Werner Herzog concludes
that Treadwell never had any special bond with the bears, which express
only "the overwhelming indifference of nature."
Wenum and Manley said Treadwell didn't seem to recognize basic
behavioral responses of bears that were captured on film. The two noted
that there are scenes where bears are laying back their ears, but
Treadwell seems oblivious to the subtle, aggressive posturing.
In footage of Treadwell's girlfriend, Amie Huguenard, taken by
Treadwell just days before her death, there is a large bear right
behind her, rocking from side to side.
"That's a huge, huge stress indicator," Wenum said.
Brian Peck, a consultant with the Great Bear Foundation, said that he
and others urged, even begged Treadwell to change his practices around
bears. Treadwell indicated that he would, but "Grizzly Man" shows that
he didn't.
"Did anybody see anything of value that Tim did for bears?" Bartlebaugh
asked the panelists. None had any response.
The two bears that were found feeding on Treadwell and Huguenard's
bodies were killed by park rangers.
Even though the documentary reflects Treadwell's emotional instability
and it paints a true picture of his background, some viewers are going
to admire him, Lipinski predicts.
"I think you experts have a daunting task," he told the panelists. If
there's an audience of 250 people, he said, "there's going to be at
least 50 who think he's a really great guy."
And when the film is shown to audiences in Ohio or New York, there will
be no panel of bear experts on hand.
"Grizzly Man" will be shown at the O'Shaugnessy Center in Whitefish at
8 p.m. today and at 1, 4 and 7 p.m. Saturday and Sunday. Tickets are
$7.
Reporter Jim Mann may be reached at 758-4407 or by e-mail at
***@dailyinterlake.com