"Black ones -- fight back, Brown ones -- lay down,
white ones -- feel the bite." Executive Producer
Chris Palmer prefaces this ballet of bears, "Our crew
carried pepper spray and learned to tell the
difference between bear scat (feces): Black bear scat
has berries and squirrel fur; Grizzly scat smells
like pepper spray."
With bear numbers dwindling, this production shows
off the bear in all its glory in hopes of winning
your affections and preservations.
We follow an Alaskan naturalist who takes visitors
into the wild so that they might get a close up view.
Though a spectacular salmon feast is promised to the
bears and the audience by the narrator, that
prediction never pays off ... leaving both
unquenched. Though the salmon were probably pretty
pleased, I'd wager.
Then in Montana, a drowsy black bear wakes from
its slumber, sliding down a slope of snow while,
stretching its bones. A couple of cubs squawk, too
cuddly cute for words. I could have sworn Jim Henson
was hiding in that den, working those animals from
the rear (yikes).
Which segues nicely into the entomology of the
infamous "Teddy Bear." Apparently (we're told)
President Teddy Roosevelt (an avid hunter) found
himself with a pouty-faced bear cub at the barrel end
of his rifle. Teddy's sparing of this cub made for a
media delight and the animal became instantly known
as ... well you know.
Included, a sweet cub tussle and a truly dramatic
first swim for the little guys across a strong
river.
Though apparently the most dangerous, the white
puffballs of the north seem so affectionate. They
roll in the snow, teeth and claw striking contrast to
the ice. And when they're finished playing, these
largest of all land predators munch on a few seals
(not shown) - or (eek) polar bear cubs (also, left
only for narration).
In sum, though the film makes great strides toward
"rehabilitating" the image of the bear ... much of
that distance is halved by a scene in which seven
bears savagely claw at each other after finely
catching a measly salmon or two between them.
|