Piracy is more than a trend. Hollywood’s love affair with pirates reflects this. Not until the documentary The Cove has a different breed of pirate been spotlighted – the fishermen who plunder the ocean for dolphin flesh and a Japanese government caught red-handed in the conspiracy.
The Cove first reminds us why we love dolphins in the first place: a famous bottlenose dolphin named Flipper was family-friendly and intrinsic to global interest in sea creatures as entertainment.
Flipper’s ex-trainer and longtime anti-captivity activist Richard O’Barry learned the truth about dolphin exploitation on a trip to Taiji, Japan.
Here he was introduced to a cove inhabited by migratory dolphins that doubles as a stage for mass slaughter six months a year.
A quiet town, aside from the death wails contained in the cove, Taiji is home to citizens completely unaware of the disturbing daily genocides.
Director Louie Psihoyos focuses closely on his human subjects, including O’Barry as the film’s overshadowing voice, and his ‘Ocean’s Eleven’ undercover team on thier mission to uncover the cove’s secret.
The cameras catch the determination in their faces as they embed hidden cameras in the cove crevices. They show the heartbreak glistening in O’Barry’s eyes as he mourns a dolphin that ‘committed suicide in his arms’ and they capture the frigid stoicism of Japanese spokespeople as they clutch desperately to their secret.
The story of O’Barry’s tragic sacrifices and the extremes he pursued in order to save helpless dolphins – one at a time until the 23,000 killed per year receive acknowledgement – takes the audience through many emotions. First they experience disbelief. Then they are choked-up by tears and, later, laughter from some surprising comic moments.
Some staggering facts of the whaling industry are displayed as text on emotionally intense scenes. There are brave government workers who speak out against internal policy to feed schoolchildren mercury-tainted dolphin meat and fishermen who stomp around as if having an unbearable day.
The irony is in their ignorance, which invites the obvious question of whether they affect blinders while wading through crimson waters, or if they truly believe their money-driven activity is somehow acceptable.
The Cove can make your heart feel truly bruised after a mere 94 minutes of education, which says a lot. It starts from scratch with an oblivious audience and a secret as deceptive as a doomed dolphin’s smile.
