Spoilers. It's always convenient for scientists to treat the brains -- not to say the "minds" -- of animals as black boxes. We know what goes in ("stimuli") and we know what comes out ("responses") but we don't know what's inside. But anyone who has owned a pet knows that the black box has a good deal of personality inside it. (I once had the world's nastiest canary.) The study of animal consciousness is beginning to take form. Elephants in particular have curious traits that are difficult to interpret without being "anthropomorphic", a bad word in science. But Jeffrey Masson's "Why Elephants Cry" provides a good survey of their quirks. As described in this movie, one of the characters pumps shot after shot into an elephant before killing it. There was just such an historical event in which a hunter, having wounded an elephant and caused it to lean against a tree, put several deliberate bullets into it as an experiment, to see which one would most effectively bring it down. Observers noted that as the animal absorbed these shots he was weeping. They are curious indeed. They take care of their ill or disabled offspring. That much we can identify with. But when a group comes across a long-dead elephant carcass, thoroughly skeletonized, they get extremely excited and noisy, and they try to actually pick up the scattered bones and carry them away. And this we cannot understand -- not you, not me, and not ethologists. But we WILL go on killing them, and other "game" animals, for the most trivial of reasons -- trophies, money, folk medicine.
Morrell, the idealist in this film, says of elephants that they are the largest land animals on earth, but nothing fears them, and they fear nothing. They eat only tender greens and are harmless. The movie makes Morrell and his followers look like loonies in the context of what was then French Equatorial Africa. And sometimes the movie makers turn him into a rabid visionary, the John Brown of the environmentalists. But he's right of course and the rest of Homo sapiens who do not recognize this are self-destructive fools.
The movie doesn't come together as it should. The plot outlines are clear enough. Morrell is waging a lonely battle to save the beasts. Cheswick, a famous American hunter and journalist popularizes his cause. Morrell is then joined by other figures, some idealists and some exploiters who need the notoriety. A number of his valuable colleagues are killed in a shootout with ivory poachers. Morrell and the few survivors march off to carry on their fight. We don't find out what happens to them. And there is a girl, Juliet Greco, whose place in the narrative is uncertain. If we think about it, it seems as if Morrell may go on, but that his cause is lost, which means that the elephants lose as well. The director, John Huston, has inserted some welcome humor. A snobby boastful and very tall white huntress, Madame Orsini, gets thoroughly spanked on her bare bottom for having killed so many elephants.
The funniest episode is Cheswick's visit. Orson Welles struts around his well-appointed African camp, that sonorous baritone more pompous than ever -- "Oh, it's dangerous," he tells the audience through his microphone, "and it's tough". (Here he grabs a bottle of Vat 69 scotch with his free hand.) "But I like the danger. I'd rather be here than in the crumbling ruins of Greece. Because here is where you stand face to face with the big ones. Yes, they're big alright." (Here, he bends over a table, exposing his broad-beamed rear, which then receives a blast of shotgun pellets.) The performances are pretty uniformly good. It's nice that Trevor Howard, as Morrell, wasn't chosen because of his prettiness but because his face has character. On the whole, despite the humor, and the open-ended final scene, designed to maintain hope, it's a sad movie. It's a shame that, in going about making their livings, human beings can't confine themselves to eating water lillies and green shoots.
Morrell, the idealist in this film, says of elephants that they are the largest land animals on earth, but nothing fears them, and they fear nothing. They eat only tender greens and are harmless. The movie makes Morrell and his followers look like loonies in the context of what was then French Equatorial Africa. And sometimes the movie makers turn him into a rabid visionary, the John Brown of the environmentalists. But he's right of course and the rest of Homo sapiens who do not recognize this are self-destructive fools.
The movie doesn't come together as it should. The plot outlines are clear enough. Morrell is waging a lonely battle to save the beasts. Cheswick, a famous American hunter and journalist popularizes his cause. Morrell is then joined by other figures, some idealists and some exploiters who need the notoriety. A number of his valuable colleagues are killed in a shootout with ivory poachers. Morrell and the few survivors march off to carry on their fight. We don't find out what happens to them. And there is a girl, Juliet Greco, whose place in the narrative is uncertain. If we think about it, it seems as if Morrell may go on, but that his cause is lost, which means that the elephants lose as well. The director, John Huston, has inserted some welcome humor. A snobby boastful and very tall white huntress, Madame Orsini, gets thoroughly spanked on her bare bottom for having killed so many elephants.
The funniest episode is Cheswick's visit. Orson Welles struts around his well-appointed African camp, that sonorous baritone more pompous than ever -- "Oh, it's dangerous," he tells the audience through his microphone, "and it's tough". (Here he grabs a bottle of Vat 69 scotch with his free hand.) "But I like the danger. I'd rather be here than in the crumbling ruins of Greece. Because here is where you stand face to face with the big ones. Yes, they're big alright." (Here, he bends over a table, exposing his broad-beamed rear, which then receives a blast of shotgun pellets.) The performances are pretty uniformly good. It's nice that Trevor Howard, as Morrell, wasn't chosen because of his prettiness but because his face has character. On the whole, despite the humor, and the open-ended final scene, designed to maintain hope, it's a sad movie. It's a shame that, in going about making their livings, human beings can't confine themselves to eating water lillies and green shoots.