Timothy Treadwell’s journey holds some surface-level resemblances to that of a Christopher McCandless; a young man travels alone to Alaska to be around the natural, to live and thrive in the wild. However, the two men were endlessly different, though they may have shared a spirit and lust for adventure. McCandless was focused on the escape, the journey, the road, as well as the wild; Treadwell was a science ambassador, focused on researching the bears in immense detail and making that research readily available to the public.

The most similar aspect of these two young men is how their deaths were perceived. Both Krakauer and Herzog had the power to influence their subjects’ legacies; by writing or filming a biographical documentary, you almost inevitably superimpose your opinions on your subject onto the project.

Both Treadwell and McCandless’ lives became known for their deaths. They were perceived as simply naïve young men with idyllic and almost transcendental views of the natural world, and it was these views that got them killed. This is the storyline of which the public thinks when they hear the names Tim Treadwell and Chris McCandless.

To whatever degree this may or may not be true, it is often all that comes across. Ask someone if they’ve seen Grizzly Man. “Oh, isn’t that about the guy who got eaten by bears?” Ask about McCandless. “Didn’t he die in Alaska because he was unprepared?”

As I discussed earlier in my Grizzly Man post, documentary, in whatever media form, has the impressive power to shape life stories.

There are countless questions to consider when addressing documentary ethics. Documentary is based in telling the truth; in order to do so, those involved the project being documented must be a part of the telling. This does not just include administrators or politicians, but any and all affected in some way by the issue; it is unfair to the issue to only tell one side.

First, there is the careful question of access versus rights. As Johnson pointed out in her director’s statement, documentarians often have access to horrible situations in this world, and film them and subsequently get out. The people being filmed cannot do the same. The documentarian may have gained access to this story, but do they have the rights to it? Do they have signed consent forms from each and every human filmed in that area? What about babies? Animals? If they do have signed consent forms from the subjects, that would likely somewhat alter the subject’s behavior during filming, though hopefully not to an extreme amount.

Once everyone is contacted and rightfully involved in the film, then comes the editing question. The documentarian must make conscious choices about what to include and not to include; what footage he or she discards could change a story in a drastically impactful fashion. Is it ethical for Herzog to make the decisions that he did when telling Treadwell’s story? Is it ethical for him to listen to the audio of his death in front of Treadwell’s family/friends? Is it ethical for Herzog not to play the audio of Treadwell’s death in the film, after the audience stuck with him throughout? Why? Is it ethical for Herzog to take Treadwell’s story and bring it to light in his own perspective?

Drew dealt with this in immensity as well: his own subject, over his shoulder, instructing him as to what he wanted Drew to include! How would Grizzly Man be different if Treadwell had made the film alongside Herzog, as a collaborator? Would it even be called Grizzly Man? How would the film have been different if Treadwell had not been killed by his subjects? Would Herzog have even bothered?

Finally, there is the question of why ethics itself is important in documentary. Here is a simple but true statement: Documentarians attempt to tell the truth. Looking at just this statement, one would see ‘ethics’ as an actual constraint, limiting how much of the truth can be told. And yet, it is absolutely necessary in human culture; if documentary were supremely unethical, we would consider it inhuman. We would be appalled.

Is our morality limiting our potential to truthfully document? If so, why do we consider it appropriate and necessary to sacrifice that extra truth?

I wrote a lot of science fiction short stories when I was younger. I sat in classes or rowed in the afternoon while ideas for stories played in my brain: a moral to be taught, an audience in mind, a plot (sometimes action-packed, sometimes calmer), a goal to be accomplished, characters I felt were my friends, prequels, sequels, and spin-off stories about other characters. When I thought of them, I made notes however I could and then when I had time, I wrote them down. It was an awesome escape; I had notions about current happenings in either my own life or events of drastic importance globally, and I could express boldly my opinions on these events in fantastical situations. It was endlessly fun.

My time is now more limited, but sometimes I still jot down ideas and open new documents for new stories. While I enjoy science fiction, I am increasingly preoccupied with telling stories directly. I think this happened as I grew older and realized the imperative nature of so many things in our world. This is important! And this is more important! Everyone needs to know the truth about this! Oh, and this!

So many thoughts and ideas fly through my mind, and there is so much I find I want to document. Much of it has been done; fortunately, documentarians continue to cover important current issues. When I do watch documentary about imperative issues, I find myself moved beyond belief, and hope others watch them as well.

I am excited to get going on this documentary project and begin contributing in some small way to the community of the Lehigh Valley and hopefully, eventually, the world on a larger scale.

Herzog’s omnipotent voice diminishes Treadwell’s excited boyish manner in a way that is unfair to the subject. Treadwell is happy with his mission, thrilled by the world around him, and eager not only to be surrounded by the natural but also to teach others about it through documentation. This is an admirable educational goal.

Throughout the film, before Treadwell’s death, Herzog seems to know things to which the audience is not privy. At the start, I was torn: is Herzog respectful of Treadwell, or is he condescending?

It was condescension. Even the name Grizzly Man is condescending; the way I think that Herzog meant it, it’s almost making fun of Treadwell for wanting to be a bear.

This was confusing to me; Herzog found Treadwell’s story intriguing enough to pursue and of enough worth to make a film! How could he be lacking in respect? I doubted myself. I began to question Herzog’s goal in making this documentary.

Does he want people to fear the wild and to think that we are different from these animals? Is his intention to draw a bolder boundary between humanity and the natural, to cement our existence as the species at the top of an evolutionary hierarchy? If so, that is not the truth, and not what documentary should be.

When someone is gone, they are judged by their legacies, tangible and intangible. Treadwell’s intangible legacy is the spirit of adventure and lust for the natural that he left in many students and people whom he inspired. It is also in his friends and family that remain.

Treadwell’s tangible legacy includes many things, but those things have been largely overrun by one large tangible legacy over which he had no control: Herzog’s Grizzly Man. Herzog’s Grizzly Man. Yes, the clips are Treadwell’s, but the compilation and voice-over are all Herzog’s. The choices, consciously made, are Herzog’s. Look up Timothy Treadwell, Grizzly Man shows up.

That is an immense power to have.

Herzog shaped Treadwell’s legacy. He controlled how the population of this planet remembers someone other than himself. It is essential to remember when watching documentary, especially made by someone about someone other than himself or herself, there is always perspective. This is not always as drastic a problem as it is here, but is always present. This is also important to remember as documentarians; we must apply everything we can in order to help us be impartial, to tell the truth.

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1yaAwUVo7xPgnx_uZlXZ8FHPfGiuCt-l0/view?usp=sharing

In Bernard’s book, I’ve came across a section that went over emotional impact in storytelling. She stated that to get the greatest emotional impact, documentarians need to “show, don’t tell” in their documentaries. To allow the viewer to experience the film on his/her own accord. That way the person can become invested in watching it, as well as become intrigued to see what happens next with the characters and overall plot of the documentary. This is an important lesson that I need to follow, because I want as many people as possible to take interest in the film I help produce.

After reading Cameraperson out loud, we were asked to highlight one thing that stood out to us. We didn’t have time to think, so we had to trust our instincts. I really liked this exercise because I was able to identify one sentence in the statement that stood out to me and it provided an instant realization. The sentence I highlighted was “I get to share profound intimacy with the people I film.” This was the one phrase that stood out to me the most. It was interesting to observe because I didn’t even feel like I needed to highlight the rest of the sentence.

I think this phrase stood out to me the most because I think it is important to do something with your life that touches or helps other people in some way. It was intriguing to read this line. I can imagine the lives of documentarians touch or even the friendships they gain while filming. It makes me think that you can make valuable connections with people living in places you may not even imagine. It is definitely something I did not think of originally so it was beneficial to read this possibility in print.

Overall, her KJ’s Director’s Statement comes off very genuine which I appreciate. Another line that stood out to me was the bullet point that said, “My work requires trust, demands intimacy, and entails total attention. To both me and the people I film, it often feels like a friendship or family, but it is something different.” I am intrigued and interested with the emotional aspect of being a documentarian. From what I gathered from this statement, it is really an emotionally driven career that touches the lives of many.

The section that I decided to highlight of the Bernard reading was the idea of  self reflection in documentary and storytelling. Reflection when done properly has the power to connect an audience with a film maker, and further communicate an idea or argument. In response to the idea of reflection I created a short video about the two concerts I attended over the summer.

I am unsure of the type of camera person that I want to I know I want to be a documentarian of important issues but don’t know what I want to film professionally yet.

“My work can change the way my subject is perceived by the people who surround him/her and can impact reputation or safety for years in the future”

This stood out to me the most because this is what I want to work on most. I want the person, people, or object that I film to change or accentuate how it is looked at. I will think deeply about the subject that I want to select, therefore making the film seem as if it is being documented from a honorable, yet still a student role. I want the audience to be able to be on edge and push their boundaries a little after viewing to do things they maybe wouldn’t have done or thought about.

I thought the films that other people did were very impactful and impressive.  Especially the one relating to DACA. It was great to be able to see how impactful a short film could be and to see how creative and at the same time how aware my classmates are. I enjoyed working with my team and the ideas they had.  It was fun to see how all of our ideas came together to make a funny and wonderful piece in such a short time. This revealed to me that once I put enough time that a masterpiece can be created. I am excited.

The sound project and Tracey R worked on was extremely fun and informational. It was impactful in the sense that I became more aware of the sounds I experience , especially incorporated within film. We recorded a bad interview which I talked low while Tracey muffled the microphone. The most interesting sound to me was the cricket, the non-human sound. Now every night I hear the crickets I distinguish them from what I would normally non-consciously not even really hear.  I really liked the recording device. It was much more crisp than the IPhone’s recorder, though the iPhone was pretty crisp as well.