Blackfish delivers ominous chills not because it documents orca whale attacks, but because it makes a clear, strong case that the attacks are of humankind’s making. It’s more Frankenstein than Jaws. Orcas are highly intelligent animals, susceptible to psychological scars, boredom, frustration and anger. The attacks didn’t spring from base animal instinct—killer whales aren’t known to attack humans in the wild—but from lives of mistreatment.
Gabriela Cowperthwaite’s documentary illustrates how SeaWorld and other marine amusement parks mistreat the orcas they keep in captivity. The movie makes the case that SeaWorld keeps animals in demeaning captivity and risks the lives of ill-prepared trainers, all for entertainment dollars and whale sperm.
The film will naturally call to mind 2009’s The Cove, about Dolphin abuse in Japan. While that documentary took on the feel of a heist film by focusing on how the filmmakers covertly shot the footage, Blackfish is a more conventional assembly of interviews and archival footage. Some of that archival footage, however, is as harrowing and suspenseful as a thriller. A scene in which a whale starts behaving erratically in the middle of a routine and toys with a veteran trainer is particularly gripping.
Cowperthwaite structured Blackfish around the story of Tilikum, an orca that was captured in 1983 and later involved in incidents that caused injury and death to its trainers. Tilikum was picked on by other whales, caged in the dark and treated in ways that would be considered cruel and unusual on humans. Tilikum’s tumultuous travels serve as a compelling narrative thread, and the various stages of his life provide handy jumping-off points for elaboration and side stories.
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
