In the end, there were no simple answers,
no heroes, no villians.
only silence.
But it began the moment that I first saw the wolf
By the act of watching, with the eyes of man,
I had pointed the way for those who followed.
[youtube:http://youtube.com/watch?v=Izb0ScZSBpk]
This movie came out the year I graduated from High School—(that’s Alhambra High School right here in Martinez California. Coincidentally the superintendent of the school then was John Searles, who invited me last month to talk about beavers for the Rotary Club, small beaver world, but you knew that already.) I was enrolled in a film class at DVC when Carroll Ballard’s remarkable animal photography was pointed out to me. My mind’s eye remembered the scene where he falls through the ice and we watch the hare’s face to follow the story. When I used the barn owl’s tilting head in the “high hopes” video that was what i was thinking of. (Not that you could tell.)
From the first five minutes of this remarkable movie I knew it was about epic challenges, personal courage, government bureaucracy and awesome, life-changing closeness to nature. For an unexplained while, before each big hurdle of my student life, (internship interviews, comprehensive exams, licensing exam, dissertation defense) I watched this movie and tried to put my nervous self in order.
I had no idea, then, that it was preparing me for beavers.
If you haven’t watched Never Cry Wolf in 26 years, (or if you sadly never watched it at all) give yourself a monumental treat. The movie is a slow, introspective look at the wilderness. Even today I’m not sure I understand how seeing the natural world in such staggering splendor can focus your vision inward in the most minute and compassionate detail. If you aren’t feeling introspective maybe you could invite your friends over to play the special Martinez Version where you do a shot each time you identify a similarity with our beaver story (faulty understanding, unreliable officials, greedy developers, exaggerated fears, lost wisdom, and wavering bassoon.) (Well, okay, there’s no bassoon in Martinez, but the rest is a direct hit!)
As a reward for struggling to keep up on a remarkable journey, you are treated at the end to the amazing footage of the main character teaching his inuit friend how to juggle. Very possibly the best movie ever made for helping you to see the world, value its beauty and wildness, unlearn all the bogus scientific mythology you’ve been taught, try remarkable new ways to test out developing theories, and advocate humane understanding of the creatures you encounter.
Hmm.
