In October 2011, a man in Zanesville, Ohio released his menagerie of pets out into the wild...and then killed himself. It wouldn't have been a newsworthy story had he been a simple hoarder of dogs and cats. Instead, Terry Thompson ran an exotic animal farm, and the creatures eventually cornered and put down were lions, tiger, and bears (among many others). The story stirred a nation. It is against this backdrop that documentarian Michael Webber offers The Elephant in the Living Room. Telling a tale not unlike this one, it centers on the lives of two men, public safety officer Tim Harrison and the melancholy Terry Brumfield. The former had a partner die at the paws of a wild animal. The latter keeps two pet lions - Lambert and Lacey - on his backwoods property.
That the two will eventually collide comes as no shock in Webber's cinematic world. What is outrageous is the seeming nonchalant way our post-modern society 'accepts' the selling of and showcasing of these natural predators. While plenty of people get on their soapboxes (interviews with doctors and lawmakers provide the necessary sense of outrage), what Webber is really interested in is the personal angle. He wants to make sure that audiences see the faces behind the 'freak show,' to really understand why someone would keep a deadly python or a mountain lion as a pet. Of course, that line is often blurred by an aura of emotional unbalance. This is clearly the case with Brumfield, whose lions are literally his entire reason for living.
Along the way, we traipse through the black market, hear horror stories (and the blind biased reaction to same), and watch as customers cram into exotic pet shows, treating venomous snakes and other dangerous creatures as mere merchandise. In these moments, Webber walks away from the humanizing element of his film and grabs the bullhorn. While his points are well taken - we should be afraid of these animals, not scanning them like toothpastes in a Walmart - it is also clear common sense. After a while, no nice Nevada couple or concerned animal advocate is going to alter the argument. While the cultural influence and impact can play a part (Tony Montana in Scarface, Mike Tyson in The Hangover), the truth remains that wild animals are considered "wild" for a reason - that is, they are not domesticated and not wholly trainable.
Tragedies like the one in Zanesville also make an appearance here, situations in which confused local governments and sad, sheltered people end up witnessing the pointless destruction of life. In Brumfield's case, the sudden death of one of this babies forces him deeper into depression, the circumstances highlighting once again the reasons against putting the untamed within society. Yet there are the viral YouTube videos where former owners, reunited with their 'pets' in the wild, humanizing the experience all out of anthropomorphic proportion. Webber makes it clear that the allure of something special is what drives many to do the illogical and the irrational. He also argues that we, as a right thinking people, don't do enough to regulate it all.
In the end, The Elephant in the Living Room does what all good documentaries do - sheds light on a subject few know about in a way that offers insight as well as emotional investment. It doesn't make what happens to Harrison or Brumfield any easy to understand, nor does it provide any relief from the sadness of something like the Terry Thompson horror. What it does offer, however, is a well considered complaint that few outside the obsessive and unsound can truly rebut. It's a smart, satisfying statement.
Along the way, we traipse through the black market, hear horror stories (and the blind biased reaction to same), and watch as customers cram into exotic pet shows, treating venomous snakes and other dangerous creatures as mere merchandise. In these moments, Webber walks away from the humanizing element of his film and grabs the bullhorn. While his points are well taken - we should be afraid of these animals, not scanning them like toothpastes in a Walmart - it is also clear common sense. After a while, no nice Nevada couple or concerned animal advocate is going to alter the argument. While the cultural influence and impact can play a part (Tony Montana in Scarface, Mike Tyson in The Hangover), the truth remains that wild animals are considered "wild" for a reason - that is, they are not domesticated and not wholly trainable.
Tragedies like the one in Zanesville also make an appearance here, situations in which confused local governments and sad, sheltered people end up witnessing the pointless destruction of life. In Brumfield's case, the sudden death of one of this babies forces him deeper into depression, the circumstances highlighting once again the reasons against putting the untamed within society. Yet there are the viral YouTube videos where former owners, reunited with their 'pets' in the wild, humanizing the experience all out of anthropomorphic proportion. Webber makes it clear that the allure of something special is what drives many to do the illogical and the irrational. He also argues that we, as a right thinking people, don't do enough to regulate it all.
In the end, The Elephant in the Living Room does what all good documentaries do - sheds light on a subject few know about in a way that offers insight as well as emotional investment. It doesn't make what happens to Harrison or Brumfield any easy to understand, nor does it provide any relief from the sadness of something like the Terry Thompson horror. What it does offer, however, is a well considered complaint that few outside the obsessive and unsound can truly rebut. It's a smart, satisfying statement.
