Why Did I Watch "Tiger King?"

I don't know if I've ever seen a piece of pop culture so immediately, and unexpectedly embraced by the mainstream media as Netflix's true crime documentary "Tiger King: Murder, Mayhem, and Madness." It feels like right about when everything got locked down because of Covid-19, I started seeing references to Joe Exotic and jokes about Carole Baskin's missing husband everywhere.

So, I went and watched the full seven hour miniseries, about Joe Exotic and the other eccentrics who maintain menageries of exotic pets, notably those obsessed with big cats like lions and tigers. Joe is, frankly, a charismatic scumbag, running a sketchy private zoo in Oklahoma that he's recruited a gang of misfits to help maintain. Throughout the series, he exploits and mistreats everyone around him, including his beloved cats. He's also a massive narcissist and attention-seeker, which makes him very entertaining to watch. Joe cultivates a wild persona - redneck, gay, polygamist, gun-toting showman. We watch him constantly filming himself, hoping to become a country music singer, a reality star or a politician. He also proves to be dangerously unstable, keeping up a feud with conservationist Carole Baskin for years, before finally hiring someone to kill her.

Carole, of course, is no angel. The show's third episode is devoted to the suspicious disappearance of her millionaire husband. And there are plenty of other reprobates on the show. Doc Antle, another big cat collector and Joe's mentor, essentially runs a sex cult. Jeff Lowe, a swinger and businessman, is a shady felon and probable swindler. Joe's crew of drug addicts, amputees, and weirdos are alternately alarming and endearing. However, none of these people, and none of their animals, are as fascinating as Joe Exotic - real name Joe Schreibvogel. Episode after episode, it's one outrageous thing after another. He gets hitched to two men at the same time. He runs for president, then governor, with a Wal-Mart manager running his campaigns. He devotes episodes of his internet show to all the ways he'd like to kill Carole Baskin. Predictably, his zookeeping career, personal life, and legal troubles all blow up by the final episode.

Netflix has distributed a lot of these true crime documentary series, in the wake of "Making a Murderer." "Tiger KIng" follows roughly the same format, except there's so much more concentrated crazy. I don't think it's put together all that well - the episode actually detailing what Joe did to land himself in prison feels rushed and the sequence of events is difficult to follow. There's a lot of selective editing going on, and plenty of convenient omissions. The subject matter, however, is irresistible. This nutty subculture of big cat enthusiasts, and all of these colorful, larger-than-life personalities, are impossible to oversell. Everything from the depiction of heinous animal trafficking to little details like Joe's husband's tattoos are prime stranger-than-fiction material. It doesn't remotely surprise me that there are already feature film adaptations in the works.

"Tiger King" falls squarely into the category of trashy reality television like "Honey Boo Boo" and "Jersey Shore." This time around, however, there's no pretending that everyone involved isn't a walking disaster. The documentary format and true crime framing might give it a few more respectable bona fides, but the creators are well aware that anyone watching is there to gawk at Joe Exotic, who was already a minor celebrity in Oklahoma because of his political aspirations. There are a few nods toward supporting conservation efforts and doing better by the big cats featured in the show, but this takes a backseat to the constant drama being played up by the series - often with the full support of its subjects.

And watching the American public embrace "Tiger King" has left me with very mixed feelings. Joe Exotic is getting his fifteen minutes of fame. Carole Baskin is getting vilified, largely because she makes for an easy antagonist and scapegoat. If the series were edited to be seen from her point of view, it would be very different and probably not so successful. "Tiger King" perfectly reflects certain uncomfortable parts of the American psyche that love a good freak show, and while I don't regret watching it, it's left me wondering exactly why I jumped on the bandwagon too.
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