Patty Papageorgiou-Axford gives us her take on this challenging documentry
A documentary feature is rarely first choice on a list of an evening’s entertainment, which is not surprising, considering the usually heavier subject matter the genre tends to cover. Documentaries generally aim to inform, expose, investigate and question numerous aspects of our society. A great documentary will succeed in enriching our understanding of the subject and in providing material for further contemplation. Blackfish, a heartfelt exposition of the disturbing reality behind SeaWorld’s whale shows, does just that and more.
The plight of animals in captivity, used for live shows and profit making, has been in and out of the spotlight for years. Something the public is well aware of and – we like to think – informed on. So what, you’d ask, does this film show that we haven’t seen before? Cramped living spaces? Lack of freedom? Haven’t we established that these animals are well cared for, fed, kept safe from the dangers of the wild, to which they are unaccustomed to?
Smoke and mirrors. Blackfish brings to light more than the unsociable conditions under which captured Orcas live. It exposes not only the deception employed by a large corporation to keep a profitable show on the road but also builds a case study of psychological damage so deep, that is frankly unfathomable to anyone with a shred of humanity.
The content evolves around the death of Dawn Brancheau, a Sea World trainer who was the victim of an attack by their largest male whale, Tilikum. Although the event was covered by the media as an accident, it transpires that this was not an isolated episode and other such “accidents” and near-misses had been covered up in the past. Tilikum’s unstable background is slowly revealed and alongside it the much more complex emotional capacity whales possess than we understand. From digging into Tilikum’s origins with an eye-opening example of whale capturing practices, to the heartbreaking grief displayed by a mother whale separated from her calf, the film steadily undulates on waves of empathy, disbelief and wonder at both the magnificence of these creatures and the callousness with which they are treated. Director Gabriela Cowperthwaite does not shy away from pointing a finger at Sea World and demanding answers. Answers that are not given but are loudly implied in Sea World’s insistent silence.
You would expect the film to leave a bitter aftertaste in your mouth but the real beauty of it is that it presents all the facts and conclusion in such a well-balanced way that will leave you emotional rather than angry. There is no gratuitous manipulation, no graphic images of the attacks to shock, no witch-hunt to provoke a reaction. Presented in honest, poignant interviews and intercut with archive footage the facts speak for themselves. We are left with a deep sense of understanding of our relationship with nature and the arrogance which so easily overcomes our humanity.
Blackfish is on general release on DVD and available to watch on Netflix – I strongly urge you to add it to your to-watch list. It is a beautifully pieced together film that deserves an audience the world over.
