Shallow Waters of "The Cove"

How do you judge the merits of a documentary separate from its subject? Can you disagree with the stance of a work of art and still truly appreciate it? "The Cove" popped up on Netflix's Instant Watch service this week, a documentary about dolphin drive hunting in Taiji Japan. I'd wanted to see it since it set off a storm of controversy last year, culminating in an Oscar win in February. I think it deserved the win, but I don't agree with the film's stance at all.

I'll be blunt. I'm no great lover of animals. Those tearjerker ads from the Humane Society usually leave me indifferent or wishing for terrible misfortune to befall Sarah McLachlan. I've had dogs, cats, and rabbits in my life, but I'm not inclined to romanticize my pets. The fact that people overseas eat these animals doesn't shock or sicken me. It's pointed out by one of the Japanese interviewees that cows are consumed in the West, and nobody makes a fuss about them. What I took from "The Cove" is that much of the outrage over dolphin slaughter is stemming from cultural bias and Western privilege. I can understand why activists would want to ensure the preservation of dolphin and whale populations, but implying that their consumption is somehow intrinsically immoral leaves me shaking my head.

So "The Cove" didn't have the intended effect on me. I spent much of the film's run time mentally picking apart the arguments that were being put forth, which isn't difficult. "The Cove" derives most of its impact from drawing the viewer in emotionally, elevating dolphins as intelligent, empathetic beings that deserve protection, which it does very well. The activists anthropomorphize them constantly, talking up their capacity for communication, for learning, and for altruism. At the same time, the film is set up with a heist structure, similar to the funambulist documentary "Man on Wire." Dolphin-trainer-turned-activist Ric O'Barry, who runs a group called the Oceanic Preservation Society, assembles a team of divers, cameramen, special effects gurus, and others to help him film the annual dolphin slaughter in Taiji, which takes place away from prying eyes in a heavily guarded cove.

This mission forms the backbone of "The Cove" and gives it an easy narrative to follow. The activists are forced to go to elaborate ends to disguise and place their recording equipment. The local fishermen are so hostile and so transparent about their unsavory actions, it's almost too easy to see them as villains. There are many moments of suspense and tension that are genuinely exciting, and the lead-up to the finale is executed as well as the climax of any major studio thriller. The footage the team captures is visceral, stomach-churning stuff, which shows the waters of the cove turning red as dolphins are killed. But at the same time, it's no more graphic or shocking than the images from the abbatoirs we saw in "Food Inc," which was also up for the Oscar this year.

What bothered me the most about "The Cove" was how one-sided it was in many of its arguments, to the point where it bordered on propaganda at times. The most convincing segment of the film is the examination of certain distasteful tactics being used at the Japanese at the International Whaling Commission to overturn the ban on whaling. The filmmakers demonize several individuals and take a few potshots at the Japanese government, but do their best to characterize the broader Japanese populace as non-complicit. They also make several good points as to why the practice of eating dolphins could pose a health risk. However, attempts to acknowledge whaling and dolphin hunting as part of the Japanese culture come off as dismissive and awkward.

Nonetheless, it's hard not to feel sympathetic toward Ric O'Barry, who was the original dolphin trainer on the television show "Flipper," and holds himself responsible for popularizing dolphin shows and creating an entire multi-million dollar industry that profits from the exploitation of the animals. He's turned cetacean conservation into his own personal crusade, alienating other conservationists left and right. He is the primary driving force behind the film, and his passion comes across onscreen. Even though I didn't find "The Cove" very convincing as a polemic, it works just fine as a profile of O'Barry, whether you agree with him or not.

So is "The Cove" a good documentary? I supposed that depends on you want from one. It's masterful emotional manipulation, informative, engaging, and certainly entertaining, but only rarely enlightening. I have to give the film its due for technical and storytelling proficiency, but the heavy bias of its message wound up leaving a bad taste in my mouth.