The New Breed

The New Breed

Posted by Dread on Thursday November 30, @12:36AM

A brutal attack on the softening of Wild Life Films. A.C Douglas at his scathing best..

I like TV wildlife films. Truly, I do. I'm grateful for them as well. How else would I experience all those natural wonders? Without TV wildlife films I'd have to go out there, wouldn't I. Out there where the animals live. Out there in steamy jungles, fetid swamps, dank forests and bone-chilling waters. Out there tramping through pouring rain and blazing sun; through sandstorms and blizzards. And when I wanted to rest I'd have to make do with makeshift shelter: no air conditioning, no running water, no toilets, no "Seinfeld" reruns. It's enough to make a civilized man shudder and slop his caf“ br”lot about.

So, you see, TV wildlife films really are a favorite of mine. But something odd has happened to them. Not all of them, of course. Just the New Breed of them.

Consider, for instance, that particularly irksome sort of TV wildlife Film where predator animals who hunt prey larger than field mice seem to get their food ready-killed as if by magic.

Here's the predator stalking his prey (there's always lots of stalking). Then he leaps, and before one can say Grub's up!, quick-cut to predator contentedly enjoying his meal. Apparently, the prey, rewarding the predator for all that assiduous stalking, has considerately dropped dead of its own volition, thereby saving the predator the trouble of killing it.

Or the common variation on this: The prey escapes, thereby assuring us that the predator is only rarely successful, and that most of the time most of those sweet little prey animals will get to go home to their sweet little families. In this variation the predator is either shown prey-less, or shown eating prey we've not met previously that has expired by one means or another at some other location well out of our predator's reach. Our predator wouldn't think of actually killing anything. No indeed. He's the Immaculate Conception of his species; totally without stain; a Disney character incarnate.

Now, I ask you: Is this portrayal in any way reasonable? But, then, I suspect a reasonable portrayal wasn't a major consideration here. After all, these are TV wildlife films, and we must keep our impressionable kiddies from seeing killing of any sort, mustn't we? I mean, it's so...so..., well, violent.

Consider another irksome bit: The penchant with this new breed of TV wildlife film for chronicling animals who live in herds, pods, groups or colonies. Aloof, rugged, animal individualism is out. Team and group animal cooperation is in.

Like with penguin films. I don't know about you, but I don't want to see any more penguins. You've seen one penguin, you've seen 'em all. And no more seals, either -- except, that is, when they're shown being made dinner for sharks. Or killer whales.

I like killer whales, actually. They're neat, even though they do their killing and traveling in pods. Killer whale wildlife films are neat, too. Come to think of it, most whale wildlife films are neat, excepting, of course, the New Breed sort where whales are invariably shown in the company of wonder-struck humans, whose awe-ladened expressions of wonderment are meant to show their deep and abiding fellowship with whales in particular, and with wildlife and Nature in general. In the company of these, the whales are invariably reduced to objects, and despite what the enthralled humans may imagine, there's no fellowship at work here at all. Whales, believe it or not, have no time for humans. We're useless to them as food, and they don't need or want us for companions.

Trust me. You can take my word on this.

And I want to say right here, in no uncertain terms, that I've about had it with the simian crowd, too -- the whole lot of them, along with their disgusting habits. They look and act too much like us, if you ask me. Putting them on display is nothing short of a direct rebuke. There's no need to remind us that not very long ago we were up in the canopy doing our thing hanging from some tree branch or other, all the while gesticulating and gibbering away mindlessly. We don't need reminding. We may have done away with scrambling up trees and hanging about on tree branches, but all the rest of it is still firmly intact. Just look around you if you doubt my word.

There's more, as well. Piling insult upon insult sufficient, there's a seemingly endless array of New Breed TV wildlife films featuring lions. You know about lions, right? They're the branch of the cat family where the females, acting in community, not only birth and care for litters of cubs, but do all the hunting as well, while the solitary, shiftless males lounge around being generally useless until they're needed for stud service.

Now, what's the deal with that? Neo-feminist polemic — la Dworkin, McKinnon and Walker, only thinly veiled?

Spare me. Save it for the PC gang up in academia where it might be appreciated.

And as if all these irksome bits weren't more than enough, there's that final bit of irksome that's perhaps the most irksome bit of all: The terminally annoying and ineluctable filmmaker's environmental message which comes at the end of the New Breed TV wildlife film much like the prayer meeting comes after the soup at a Salvation Army soup kitchen.

The animals, it seems, are disappearing. Not of their own accord, nor by Darwinian imperative either. No sir. They're disappearing because of us. It's all our fault, rapacious little cretins that we are. We shoot them dead for fun and profit. We destroy their habitats. And we do it all wantonly and sans conscience.

Listen up, fella. I've some news for you. You're making your pitch in the wrong venue and to the wrong person. The guy you need to talk to doesn't watch TV wildlife films. He's too busy. Out there. Shooting the animals. Despoiling the rain forests. You need to confront him mano a mano and convince him of his unconscionable behavior, not me. I'm one of the good guys.

So here's the deal: You deep-six the sermon, and I swear to never shoot another tiger or cut down another tree.

How's that for fair?

Sounds more than fair to me.