22 October 2008

Grizzly Man and the Punctum of Cinema

I found it a pleasant surprise that we were watching Grizzly Man this week in screening; I had wanted to view the film for quite a while, so it promised to be quite the departure from the horror of Weekend. After viewing the film, however, I took on a new understanding of Barthes's Camera Lucida as well. Barthes attempts to differentiate photography from cinema and, though he sticks by his distinction, admits that it is far from perfect. Grizzly Man, while it certainly does not follow classic Hollywood film structure, is a perfect example of this blurring of the lines between art forms.

Analyzing Grizzly Man as Barthes analyzes his photographs, it is easy to see the studium of the film and each scene - the intended, academic, somewhat indifferent analysis that the artist provides us. In this case, Treadwell wants the viewer to examine the bears, foxes, and general wildlife, not himself. Though he does not necessarily want the audience to gaze upon the situation in a detached state of mind, he does attempt to convince viewers with reason and according to a plan. He shows the grizzlies fighting, eating, surviving, and interacting with him in a non-aggressive manner, and he shows the foxes he plays with. In the impromptu moments that Herzog describes as the "magic of film", Treadwell attempts to show the more innocent side of the animals with the hope of reaching out to the viewer.

And though this approach is somewhat successful, a viewer of the film learns far less about these animals than he or she does about Treadwell himself. Treadwell, in his unplanned rants and numerous takes, reveals more about his own existence and his own desires than he likely realizes. The punctum of the footage, it could be argued, is Treadwell's battle with himself and his rejection of and by society. He talks about how much he prefers the beauty of nature to what he considers the menace of human society; he discusses his troubles with women numerous times and makes even more mention of his disdain for civilization as a whole. This is not what Treadwell, the "filmmaker" who recorded the majority of the movie, intended as his result - it is simply what stands out to his viewers, or at least, what stood out to me. (After all, the punctum is always subjective.)

There are other parallels that can be drawn between Grizzly Man and Barthes's analysis as well. When Barthes discusses gazing upon the photo of the boy who will be put to death, and the incredible meaning this adds to the image, the same can be applied to viewing Treadwell interacting with the bears that we know killed (and partially ingested) him. The link this highlights between cinema and death is clear and undeniable. And even when Barthes discusses the erotic photo, this same idea of the "blind field" is utilized by Herzog when he listens to the recording of Treadwell's death: the audience cannot hear what he does, but we cannot stop ourselves from imagining that which we cannot hear or see. Essentially, if there is one example to destroy Barthes's attempted distinction between film and photography, it is Grizzly Man.

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