In the lovely fishing hamlet of Taiji, Japan, tour boats the shape of whales and dolphins cruise the harbor. Colorful murals of the sea mammals decorate the tunnel entrance to the national park where the inlet of “The Cove” is located.
Taiji is “a little town with a big secret,” says first-time director Louie Psihoyos at the start of his gripping documentary. And the large tarps shrouding the goings-on at the inlet suggest the fishermen know their work is at least controversial but perhaps shameful, too.
Each year dolphin trainers from marine parks and seaquariums around the world gather to select animals, paying as much $150,000 each. Those not chosen (as many as 23,000) are killed for their meat.
In 2005, Psihoyos accompanied dolphin activist Ric O’Barry to Taiji intent on capturing images of the clandestine slaughter. In the 1960s, O’Barry made a more-than-comfortable living and name for himself as the trainer of the five dolphins who played the titular charmer on “Flipper.” O’Barry spent 10 years building up the industry and 25 trying to dismantle it, he says.
Edge-of-your-seat is not the typical description of a documentary. But “The Cove” grabs hold early.
The film crew of free divers, expedition experts and adventure cameramen resembles something out of “Mission Impossible.” So do their tools: heat-sensitive camera; fabricated rocks created by a friend and mold maker for George Lucas’ Industrial Light and Magic to house covert cameras; ultrasensitive sound equipment that could sit in the water picking up the disquieting clicks of stressed animals.
The images captured and the sounds retrieved from microphones placed under cover of night by free divers Mandy-Rae Cruickshank and Kirk Krack are everything the filmmakers hoped for — and feared. They are powerful, miserable. There is a reason why the title evokes a Stephen King flick.
Even so, “The Cove” doesn’t forgo the duties of intelligent, issue-oriented documentaries.
Defenders of the slaughter say the Japanese people support their acts. So Psihoyos conducts folk-on-the-street interviews in Tokyo.
There are forays into the politics of hunting. At a meeting of the International Whaling Commission, a number of Afro-Caribbean island nations throw their support behind Japan in an alliance that smells fishy.
Although O’Barry makes a compelling and, thankfully, complicated hero, Psihoyos broadens the aims of “The Cove.”
It’s not simply an animal-rights essay. With the appearance of DNA scientist Scott Baker, the film makes arguments about mercury-tainted dolphin meat finding its way into the food supply. The meat winds up on the supper table of unsuspecting Japanese consumers as well as in the mandated lunches of Taiji schoolchildren.
“The Cove” is one of the best in a growing class of nonfiction films. Ostensibly they’re about natural resources and the environment.
At their finest, these films insist humans think about what kind of ethical relationship we wish to forge, not just with the globe’s other species but also with one another.
“THE COVE.”
PG-13 for disturbing content. 1 hour, 36 minutes. Directed by Louie Psihoyos; written by Mark Monroe; edited by Geoffrey Richmond; photography by Brook Aitken; featuring Richard O’Barry, Simon Hutchins, Mandy-Rae Cruickshank, Kirk Krack, David Rastovich, Scott Baker, Charles Hambleton. Opens today at the Boulder Century 16 and the Chez Artiste.
