PG, 82 min.
Director/Writer: Mark Lewis
Featuring: Henry Richards,
Neil Young (not that one)
“Nature finds a way.”
—Dr.
Ian Malcolm, “Jurassic Park”.
It’s amazing the amount of
wisdom you can find about nature in the movie “Jurassic Park”. I would like to
suggest to the residents of Northern Australia that they should heed Ian
Malcolm’s words in their quest to squelch their problem of the advancement of
the population of cane toads in the region. My guess is that the people
featured in the movie “Cane Toads: The Conquest” are probably extreme cases and
the reason their government hasn’t heeded their cries for control is because
the problem isn’t quite as devastating as they’re making it out to be. I would
also guess that the gifted documentarian Mark Lewis is aware of this fact,
however he just can’t help but indulge them. It’s so much fun.
The problem of the cane
toads is so “extreme” that this marks the second time Lewis has covered the
subject in his filmmaking career. The first time was in the 1988 documentary
“Cane Toads: An Unnatural History”. It was a movie that so struck me with its
simple brilliance that I never forgot it and actively sought out seeing it
again for decades after the first time I stumbled upon it when channel surfing
one night with my college roommate. I bought a copy on DVD as soon as it became
available, and I’ve been waiting with baited breath for its sequel to become
available since its all too limited theatrical release more than three years
ago. “The Conquest” is finally available on Blu-ray and through instant
streaming on Netflix. It was well worth the wait.
Lewis’s filmmaking style is
very similar to Errol Morris’s more comedic moments. He takes what seems like a
fairly silly subject, confronts a very real problem, and then finds people to
face it with such sincerity and conviction that the people themselves become
the real subject of the piece. In the first “Cane Toads” film Lewis laid down
the history that brought the cane toad to Australia, a monumental
miscalculation of attempting to solve an agricultural problem with a biological
solution. He goes over that history again here and then follows the problem
another two decades past that first film, again finding a wide array of people
who have vastly different and quite inadvertently humorous takes on the cane
toad problem.
Two of the best subjects in
the first film were a scientist who seemed to have a little too much love and
appreciation for the species and a little girl who kept one as a pet. He
revisits both of these people this time around, and neither has changed their
opinion of the beasts. He also revisits one of the more profound shots of the
first film, that of a vehicle swerving back and forth as it travels down the
highway in an effort to run over as many of the toads as possible. Hey, if it
ain’t broke, don’t fix it.
What’s truly fascinating,
however, is how he finds even more new examples of cane toad vehemence in the
new territories the toads have invaded since the first doc. He finds a
voluntary brigade of people dedicated to stopping the onslaught of the toads—one
toad at a time if they have to. These are the people that really need to
reacquaint themselves with the teachings of Dr. Ian Malcolm. He also interviews
a councilman of the city of Darwin, one of the northern most cities on the
continent, who has quite an imagination when it comes to ways to dispose of the
creatures. He also explores an interesting police case of a man who
accidentally electrocuted himself while trying to kill them with a makeshift
spear. He shows us these examples through direct to camera interviews and
dramatic reenactments that capitalize on the ludicrous nature of it all.
Perhaps the most amusing
sequence of this film though is the segment dedicated to the phenomenon of pets
licking the toads to partake of the hallucinogenic effects caused by the toads’
deadly venom. A pet owner, a vet and a scientist all comment in this section
and come to the conclusion that dogs across the continent are choosing to give
themselves a mild dose of the poison because it gets them high. Lewis
dramatizes this with a dog who starts hearing herself blink, seeing her owner
as if through a funhouse mirror and spinning around on her back in an overhead
shot. The sequence also makes obvious visual reference to the opening sequence
of “Apocalypse Now”, even without the music cue of The Doors’ “The End” to send
it home.
Lewis’s nature documentaries
are like no others around. I think the best way to describe them would be to
imagine if Errol Morris were a nature documentarian. As far as I can tell he’s
not nearly as prolific as Morris, and that’s a shame. I’ve seen the two cane
toad docs and his “The Natural History of the Chicken”, which has much less to
do with the history of chickens and much more to do with the people who are
obsessed with them. He has one out there on dogs and another about rats that
I’ve yet to see. Of course, if time is what is necessary for him to make these
masterpieces of humorous nature obsession, then I’m willing to wait.
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