(MOVIES) For those who couldn’t make it to theaters to see Gabriela Cowperthwaite’s critically-renowned documentary Blackfish, you’re in luck, because CNN is bringing the film to your TV sets tonight. Released in theaters back in July, Blackfish calls attention to the vast psychological problems killer whales face in captivity and the associated dangers.
When Cowperthwaite set out to make the film, she originally intended to focus solely on SeaWorld trainer Dawn Brancheau’s horrific death at the hands of killer whale Tilikum. Unbeknownst to her, Cowperthwaite stumbled upon a well-guarded SeaWorld history laced with tragedy. Blackfish brings a long list of incidents involving trainers and whales to the surface, and does a great job of convincing viewers that animal captivity for entertainment should be a thing of the past.
Although Cowperthwaite doesn’t think of herself as an activist, there’s no doubt she’s done an incredible service to the cause. If you’re still not convinced SeaWorld is a terrible place, take a look at the director’s personal thoughts on the issue, and be sure to catch Blackfish tonight, October 24, at 9 p.m. ET on CNN. Continue reading below to learn more about Gabriela Cowperthwaite’s personal experiences with SeaWorld and making her documentary. — Global Animal
The Daily Beast, Gabriela Cowperthwaite
I took my kids to SeaWorld. Not just once, but multiple times.
I remember experiencing what I call the “cringe factor”—when you know you’re watching something creepy but it’s not quite appalling enough to make you get up and leave. I’d sit there, uncomfortable, anesthetized by thumping music, bright colors and smiling faces. I’d watch a trainer stand on the face of a killer whale, surf its back, spin it in goofy circles, and I would instinctively feel I was beholding something demeaning. But then I’d look around the stadium and see hundreds of people smiling and wonder “how can something that makes so many people happy be such a bad thing?”
On February 24, 2010, Dawn Brancheau, a top SeaWorld trainer was killed by Tilikum, a 12,000 pound killer whale. I began researching the story for my next documentary because I couldn’t fathom why a highly intelligent animal would essentially “bite the hand that feeds it.” I don’t come from animal activism and I knew very little about killer whales so I figured I was doing a documentary about a one-off; a single tragic event.
I was stunned by what I learned. For the next two years the information came in shockwaves.
I read Killer in the Pool by Tim Zimmermann and learned that Tilikum had killed twice before. I spoke to marine biologists, researchers, activists, and interviewed the former SeaWorld trainers, the folks who soon became the narrative voices of the film. All these folks taught me that there is tremendous social strife in these small tanks and that the animals fight all the time. In the wild, killer whales vie for dominance but the subdominant animal then flees the scene and the conflict subsides. In captivity no one gets to flee. They just keep fighting.
My team and I learned that family units are split up and calves are taken from mothers and moved to other parks. Eyewitnesses watched animals grieve, call out for each other and become traumatized.
Killer whales are accustomed to swimming up to 100 miles a day. At marine parks like SeaWorld, they’re left doing circles in small pools. They experience boredom, sickness, early deaths and they aggress, attacking and even killing human beings.
Even more astounding is that no killer whale has ever killed a human being in the wild. This has only happened in captivity. There is no documentation of a killer whale killing another killer whale or even seriously injuring another killer whale in the wild. This has only happened in captivity.
My producer Manny Oteyza and I would sit dumbfounded after these revelatory interviews, wondering whether we had heard it all, wondering if we were truly prepared to take on this massive story. Then we’d hear more. And more. To this day, multiple SeaWorld employees who have seen the film suggest to me thatBlackfish barely scratches the surface.
I tried very hard to interview SeaWorld for the film. For six months we went back and forth. I tried former SeaWorld spokespeople as well, always imagining that SeaWorld’s voice would be represented in the film. I even provided them my list of questions (a documentary filmmaking taboo). They finally declined.
I’m told the members of SeaWorld’s upper management have seen Blackfish and have been bracing for impact all year. My secret and perhaps naïve wish was that they were already evolving. With their tremendous financial resources, I always hoped that they would join us in spearheading a movement that leaves behind animals for entertainment for good, and introduces sea sanctuaries. Since captive whales can’t be tossed back in the ocean (they don’t know how to hunt live fish, their teeth are destroyed from biting on metal gates, many are on antibiotics), the sea sanctuary alternative, where we cordon off an ocean cove with a net, would allow a killer whale to be fed by humans if necessary and would allow the animal’s health to be monitored.
A sea sanctuary is also a way for previously captive killer whales to live out their lives in a dignified, sustainable manner. It could be a profit-making enterprise. Who wouldn’t pay to go see a killer whale actually being a killer whale—something infinitely more gratifying than watching a killer whale do goofy tricks in a pool?
I think back on those times I watched killer whales at SeaWorld with my kids. I can’t help but think that maybe the reason we originally fell in love with the species is because we saw them up close. We saw these massive, intelligent animals gazing back at us. But this inevitably caused us to take more of them, to own them, to make them do tricks for us, and to master them. And now we see that this forty year mad-science experiment, where you put an apex predator in a pool and swim with it, didn’t work.
But I’m inspired by the reaction I’ve receive from folks who see Blackfish, especially the kids, the teenagers, and the young adults. They regularly ask me what they can do to make a change. They want to be the first generation to look back and say “I can’t believe people used to do this.” Because the most important lesson we learned from seeing killer whales in captivity is that they don’t belong in captivity.