The Cove

Directed By: Louie Psihoyos

Written By: Mark Monroe

Starring: Ric O’Barry

Director of Photography: Brook Aitken, Editor: Geoffrey Richman, Original Music: J. Ralph

Rated: PG-13 for disturbing content

    In the increasingly popular genre of documentaries, the worst of the kind are always those that are about activist. Call me heartless, but often documentaries that are supposed to show world atrocities and inspire me to go out and take the streets leave me bored. Its not that I don’t care about genocide in Darfur or poverty in Calcutta, but few activist documentaries are interesting in their filmmaking as well. The makers often simply set up their cameras, show some atrocity footage, and catch a few talking heads, before shoving their website name and Twitter feed down your throat.

    It’s The Cove’s ability to divorce itself from this sort of staple that makes it not only fascinating, but also horrifying. The film, directed by Louie Psihoyos, is an often-riveting edge-of-the-seat thrill ride that explores a sinister place in Japan where thousands of dolphins are slaughtered every year. Mr. Psihoyos might be making a film that is about stopping this atrocity (which he makes a good case for), but also concerned about form, making The Cove into a somewhat run-of-the-mill good spy thriller, except the thrills and dangers are real.

    The film sets its sights on the small town of Taiji in Japan, which might be something ripped out of a David Lynch horror film. Dolphin and whale signs promise a small happy community, but behind a closed off body of water that is impossible to reach, Japaneese fisherman collect dolphins to sell off to world aquariums every day, before slaughtering the hundreds not chosen to perform at SeaWorld.

    But enter the hero of the film—Ric O’Barry. Mr. O’Barry was the famous dolphin trainer that helped make Flipper a hit TV show back in the day, but in what is an interesting twist, has become the main activist in setting dolphins free. Mr. O’Barry is a fascinating subject because his demons weigh him down—he feels responsible for opening the dolphin Pandora box that led to captivity, and now this terrible, and secret atrocity.

    Half of The Cove is dedicated to explaining why and how the massacre in the hidden cove is wrong, and Mr. O’Barry and Mr. Psihoyos make a pretty strong argument, backing up some of the classical, and frankly unconvincing, moral issues with evidence about the mercury poisoning that happens across Japan without the knowledge of the public. Yet when Mr. O’Barry brings in a rag-tag team of high-tech specialists to Taiji, The Cove becomes a thrilling action movie with real action. The group assembles a set of secret cameras and attempt to infiltrate The Cove and finally capture on tape footage of the atrocity for the world to see. With fast-paced editing, swelling music, and night and thermal vision, Mr. Psihoyos’ technique might sound clichéd, but in this documentary form the realism makes it exciting.

    The payoff, needless to say, is simply indescribable. The footage is certainly not easy to watch, but it is also necessary because its stirring and the set-up to this point gives the viewer the real feeling that something has to be done. The Cove is one of the few documentaries that matches its activist stance with an entertaining format as well. Like Man on Wire did for heist films, The Cove matches with the action film. And because its entertainment as well, its worth marching out of the theater and into the streets.