The Elephant in the Living Room begins with its heroic subject Tim Harrison, a police officer turned animal expert in Ohio, cruising in his patrol car, rattling off his accomplishments and experiences in dealing with exotic animals on the loose in America to a passenger seat cam, intercut with local news reports of these crazy animal attacks. At that stage, it’s hard to know what’s special about this feature documentary on exotic animal ownership in the US that sets it apart from an Animal Planet program (which Tim Harrison has been on before—not to mention Discovery, National geographic, etc.). Several scenes in, we find out.
An ER doctor, looking annoyed from having to save the lives of many dumb bastards who were nearly killed by their own dangerous pets over the years, preaches directly through the screen to the idle Americans who have had the wrong idea about wild animals imprinted on them by television. The doctor criticizes animal show hosts that strip the general public of the intrinsic fear that we should have toward wild animals. “People in Africa don’t keep them in their homes. They keep them in the wild, because they know those animals can eat their face. Literally!” Really, the guy seems to be a hair away from holding up a picture of Steve Irwin and raising his eyebrows.
With the point already made, the film doesn't have to do much to condemn its second main subject, Terry Brumfield. On the contrary, he is portrayed sympathetically as a big-hearted soul who thinks of his pets as his children. Terry has an injured back and suffers from depression; his only solace are the two full-grown African lions he keeps in his yard. Named Lambert and Lacie, Terry raised them since they were cubs, but is having a hard time with the upkeep.
For much of its first hour, the film scattershoots all over the country to find more perspective on domestic exotic animals gone wild, from boa-chasing cops to tiger-loving couples to the woman who was driving on an Ohio freeway one day and saw cars in front of her being mauled by a lion. It offers up a larger canvas, but it’s arguably unnecessary given that the two most interesting perspectives on this phenomenon are Tim and Terry. This expansion, however, gives director Michael Webber the excuse to throw up hair-raising factoids on the screen: “There are more tigers in private US homes today than there are in all of India.” It sounds unbelievable, but Webber has footage that gives the claim some credibility. At one point, he and Tim sneak a (forbidden) camera into a disturbing reptile expo, where wild chimps are auctioned like chairs and parents take their excitable youngins to shop venomous snakes in tupperware containers.
The film gains legs halfway in, when its two subjects finally meet and an ideological clash sets in. There are two key scenes involving Terry’s lions that show the two extremes of the issue. On one hand, Terry’s reluctance to give up his lions doesn’t look so crazy when Lacie giving birth to four adorable cubs is captured on camera. On the other hand, a certain hard to watch footage of an accident validates Tim’s unease with this trend. With just these two moments, the film captures the heart of the debate.
Webber runs the doc haggard sometimes with his overbearing presence as the director/editor. He pairs frantic 911 calls and beleaguered news reports with Michael Bay music, then tender cute animal moments with melodramatic soft ballads. Terrence Malick shots of Tim sorrowly running his hand through a pristine corn field, for instance, gives his quest to protect animals a more sensational feel than needed.
While the doc relents to the motive and point of view of the animal owners, giving it a sense of fair balance between the two sides, the fate of Terry and his lions—as well as the closing wrap-up that describes the signing of a bill that bans exotic animal ownership in Ohio as a victory—send a pretty clear message. Elephant in the Living Room, if not a great documentary, is certainly an important one today.
"The Elephant in the Living Room" opens April 1, 2011 and is not rated. Documentary. Written and directed by Michael Webber.
