Monday, September 12, 2005
THIS HUMAN FORM WHERE I WAS BORN, I NOW REPENT: Philemina and I were privileged to take in Grizzly Man yesterday, and I would recommend it to anyone interested in some recreational pondering at the void. In it, Timothy Treadwell cuts a Col. Kurtz figure, plunging into his particular heart of darkness with a pair of camcorders and a manic intensity that leaves The Crocodile Hunter looking staid, sober and professional by comparison. Director Werner Herzog assembles Treadwell's videotape into a self-consciously awkward and redeemingly honest portrayal of a life and life's work that is at once quest confession and crusade, thereby illuminating an unhappy man otherwise all too easily dimissed as mad or misguided. Certainly Treadwell was both, but instructively so, and I was left to wonder how often seemingly lost souls leave such compelling chronicles of their search for absolution/oblivion/peace.
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