RoarIf you've ever been to the zoo, you've seen the signs that say, "warning, for your safety, do not pet the animals"; perhaps the would-be docu-drama auteur and star of Roar, Noel Marshall, did not. Because in 1981--and with eleven years of production preceding its initial release--Roar debuted as a "cat"-astrophe (I couldn't help myself); not strictly because of the flimsy story or other technical gaffs, but because in its development, apparently some seventy-plus cast and crew--including the stars and real-life family members of Noel Marshall--were wounded in the making of the film. It's one thing to bleed for art, it's another to be mauled by lions for it.
|
|
Roar has seen a re-emergence in theaters recently due to a re-release by Drafthouse Films, with the additional piece of information before the film proper begins, informing us of the injuries sustained by the cast--being clear to highlight that no animals were harmed in the filming of this movie--and that as a result of the calamities, it is regarded as "the most dangerous movie ever made". A bold statement, and although open for debate, there is a pervading sense of unease and near negligence in the film, considering the untamed, furry co-stars--who even get billing in the titles, complete with "writing" credits--roam seemingly unchecked. The plot of the film is that animal researcher, Hank (Noel Marshall), invites his family--including wife Madeleine (his real wife, Tippi Hedren), his sons, John and Jerry (John and Jerry Marshall), and step-daughter Melanie (Melanie Griffith...I guess imagination for renaming the characters his kids play ran out)--to come visit him on location as he socializes with some of the most deadly members of the animal kingdom in Africa, including lions, tigers, and elephants (oh my). But due to a mixup with transportation, the family arrives by bus as Hank leaves to go pick them up from the airport. The unsuspecting family arrives, clueless as to the full extent of Hank's feline cohabitation. Chaos ensues. There are also subplots, like one about a group of poachers gunning for the animals, and even a subplot for the lions, with King Robbie having to ward off his brutish brother Togar from antagonizing the others, while showing his son, Gary, how to be a good leader--to think that The Lion King might be indebted to Roar for plot. As silly as it can be at times, Roar carries with it a good message about what it means to share the Earth with all of God's creatures, great and small, although there are precious few small cats in the film. While the environmental message is heavy-handed, there are moments of genuine tenderness with man and beast side by side...and yet the message is ironically undermined by the preface of the re-release prologue. That is not to say that even dangerous animals should not be protected, but that Hank's (and by association, Noel's) concept of "Eden"--as proposed by the theme song--is somewhat skewed, or possibly a little demented. It's too difficult to get away from some associations about the movie, such as Noel's casting of his then-wife Tippi Hedren--yes, they separated shortly after the completion of this film, although it would be conjecture to make any connection. A brief moment occurs when she (and the family) arrive at the "country club for lions"--as Hank's associate/"Man Friday", Mativo (Kyalo Mativo) observed it to be--and Madeleine opens a door and winces as a bird flutter furiously at her. It is a Hollywood myth (and not all myths are false, mind you) that Tippi Hedren was afraid of birds, a phobia exploited in one of her most famous roles as Melanie Daniels in Alfred Hitchcock's The Birds. At this point in the film--aside from the deathtrap of a bus they rode in on--this is the most dangerous thing to happen, but her response is one of fright all the same. The dramatic irony here is that we know that the cats are lurking above them, waiting to strike. So why does this moment exist? In fact, why would Noel cast his own family in arguably what should be recognizable as a dangerous enterprise? Is he actually trying to hurt them? Probably not; but like his character Hank, one might suspect that he is oblivious to the actual danger presented in the undertaking. Just as Hank sings to himself "It's Been a Long, Long Time" while he and Mativo are aboard a boat sinking under the weight of many tigers, so too is it clear that Noel is sinking under the weight of this monumental undertaking. Roar would cost seventeen million dollars to make, but would only make two million. And yet after the debut, the Roar Foundation and the Shambala Preserve would be founded as a result of the film, so sometimes "profit" isn't always the defining feature for the "success" of a film.
The opening prologue colors one's view of the film, although this may not be a bad thing. In a way, it strips away the safety net of other movies involving dangerous animals, one's where we have grown complacent that the production has insured that all safeguards have been maintained for the mutual benefit of everyone. There is no longer such a promise in Roar...no plexiglass barrier to shield us from the claws and fangs of a four-hundred pound seven-foot long cat, with claws as long as your fingers and paws which can crush a watermelon. Most of the film involves scenes of real people running from and/or being attacked by real lions and tigers, with a high frequency of them pouncing on real people. In a way, the film feels like a Disney-inspired cross between Steve Irwin's "The Crocodile Hunter" and "Jackass", with its dangerously close encounters with wildlife, and even multiple instances of people being hurled from the rooftops in barrels...even a motorcycle leap from the roof into a lake. Compounding this are scenes where Hank actively chases or tries to exert dominance over the giant felines, at times leaping directly into a fanged tussle between two lions to break them up. There is an ever-present sense that at any minute, things could go wrong--or already are--and there is a sinking feeling that when the characters are scared, we are really seeing the honest terror in the eyes of the actors, unsure as to what will happen. The information divulged up front about the injuries sustained by the cast and crew leaves you wondering if the blood we see is fake or real--we really can't be sure. Oddly enough, the idea that the African wildlife can be so deadly might lend credence to the poachers' claims about the danger of the lions and tigers, but the film never goes that far. The clearer message is this: there are places where man has no business trying to exert his influence with the naive confidence that nature is something subject to our rule. Even though Roar proclaims a message of living in harmony, sometimes harmony means distance. As Madeleine observes to Melanie on the bus--discussing how she and Hank had been living apart to rebuild their relationship--"absence makes the heart grow fonder". The idea is that it is one thing to love nature and respect our fellow inhabitants of our mutual planet, but our species and those of the wild are different and have values which vary, and we cannot impose ours upon them, nor vice versa, and that includes trying to make the tigers sheathe their claws and smile for the camera--or ride a skateboard. In other words, love your fellow earthlings...but sometimes from afar; they aren't all meant to be petting zoos.
Recommended for: Fans of an unintentionally dark comedy dressed up as a family film about jungle creatures and wacky misunderstandings, with the "hunting is bad" message of Bambi...although I'm sure Bambi would have proceeded far differently if Bambi's mother had flesh-rending talons.
The opening prologue colors one's view of the film, although this may not be a bad thing. In a way, it strips away the safety net of other movies involving dangerous animals, one's where we have grown complacent that the production has insured that all safeguards have been maintained for the mutual benefit of everyone. There is no longer such a promise in Roar...no plexiglass barrier to shield us from the claws and fangs of a four-hundred pound seven-foot long cat, with claws as long as your fingers and paws which can crush a watermelon. Most of the film involves scenes of real people running from and/or being attacked by real lions and tigers, with a high frequency of them pouncing on real people. In a way, the film feels like a Disney-inspired cross between Steve Irwin's "The Crocodile Hunter" and "Jackass", with its dangerously close encounters with wildlife, and even multiple instances of people being hurled from the rooftops in barrels...even a motorcycle leap from the roof into a lake. Compounding this are scenes where Hank actively chases or tries to exert dominance over the giant felines, at times leaping directly into a fanged tussle between two lions to break them up. There is an ever-present sense that at any minute, things could go wrong--or already are--and there is a sinking feeling that when the characters are scared, we are really seeing the honest terror in the eyes of the actors, unsure as to what will happen. The information divulged up front about the injuries sustained by the cast and crew leaves you wondering if the blood we see is fake or real--we really can't be sure. Oddly enough, the idea that the African wildlife can be so deadly might lend credence to the poachers' claims about the danger of the lions and tigers, but the film never goes that far. The clearer message is this: there are places where man has no business trying to exert his influence with the naive confidence that nature is something subject to our rule. Even though Roar proclaims a message of living in harmony, sometimes harmony means distance. As Madeleine observes to Melanie on the bus--discussing how she and Hank had been living apart to rebuild their relationship--"absence makes the heart grow fonder". The idea is that it is one thing to love nature and respect our fellow inhabitants of our mutual planet, but our species and those of the wild are different and have values which vary, and we cannot impose ours upon them, nor vice versa, and that includes trying to make the tigers sheathe their claws and smile for the camera--or ride a skateboard. In other words, love your fellow earthlings...but sometimes from afar; they aren't all meant to be petting zoos.
Recommended for: Fans of an unintentionally dark comedy dressed up as a family film about jungle creatures and wacky misunderstandings, with the "hunting is bad" message of Bambi...although I'm sure Bambi would have proceeded far differently if Bambi's mother had flesh-rending talons.