Drafthouse Films is back. The distribution company continues to impress with a catalog of films such as Four Lions, Cheap Thrills, and The Act of Killing, as well as older unappreciated fare such as The Visitor and Miami Connection, given new life through re-release.
In partnership with Olive Films, their latest release, Roar, fits into the latter category. Initially released in 1981, the film ended the career of writer/director Noel Marshall, making only $2 million worldwide after costing $17 million to make over 5 years. The cost of the production was not only measured in dollars but in hospital visits, with both cast and crew picking up multiple injuries during a plagued shoot. Unsurprising when your co-stars include over 150 panthers, cheetahs, tigers, lions, and one elephant named Timbo that has a serious dislike for boats.
The film tells of wildlife preservationist Hank (Noel Marshall himself), who lives alongside a cornucopia of big cats on a preserve in the African plains. Seeking to live in harmony and understand the creatures, he establishes this sanctuary before sending for his wife (Tippi Hedren), step-daughter (Melanie Griffith), and two sons (John and Terry Marshall). The family arrives as Hank is away, just as tensions bubble over between the two largest lions vying for control of the pride. Hank begins his journey back home to save his family, who are unaware his house is also home to this menagerie of wild animals, as well to head off a pair of poachers who have decided his efforts to bring so many animals together is a threat to the locals.
The reality is that you don’t need the plot to convince you to see the film, merely an elaboration of how the film was conceived, made…and what went wrong. Drafthouse Films have been nailing the marketing in this respect. Their CEO Tim League wrote an essay about the film which perfectly surmises the clusterfuck of events that fueled this endeavor.
The project began in the early 70s when Hedren began taking abandoned lions and tigers into the Beverly Hills home she shared with Marshall, a familiar bond forming between the animals and the family. The numbers increased, requiring moving to a large ranch on the outskirts of LA, which is primarily where filming took place. Thus life blurred with art: the family so familiar with a number of the animals was thrown in with the animals, a narrative was tacked on, and filming began. The roots of the film are in conservation and understanding the animals, and while imbued with a sense of danger, the film actually strives to show the animals in a positive light, conveying a message of protecting and respecting these magnificent creatures. It should have been about respecting the creatures’ natural environment and boundaries, sentiments with which Marshall is entirely unfamiliar. While well-intentioned, he employed a horribly misguided approach, resulting in one of the most reckless slices of cinema in history. The phrase “wild abandon” has never been so apt in describing a film.
This leads us to the real selling point of the film, the sense of danger that permeates the entire film. It’s unintentionally hilarious in parts and utterly terrifying in others, veering from a feel-good family film to something more akin to a horror/slasher film, then right back to something of of a Disney playbook. It’s staggering that a man not only committed to such a venture but took his whole family into the fray. The last time I saw a filmmaker cast his child into such a dangerous endeavor it was Jodorowsky for his fateful Dune project.
What stays with you is how terrifyingly real the whole thing is. There is no CGI disconnect; these are real animals, real people, and real situations. The sensations Roar stirs are only compounded by the knowledge that so many people were actually injured while filming. Big cats bounding around, leaping at Marshall as he walks by or speeds past on a motorbike. Panthers claw at clothing, an elephant destroys a boat and flings it at the recent occupants, a lion lies on top of Melanie Griffith and begins to gnaw at her while Tippi Hedren pulls at its tail. Yes. That is a thing that actually happened.
Roar is pretty fast paced, but takes its time to work in some beautiful cinematography showcasing the African savanna or shots of elephants bathing in the river. Despite the recklessness, baffling dialogue, and plot, it is strangely moving at times due to these remarkable creatures and how close you get to them. The animals are characters in their own right; personalities come across, and one of the most amazing things is getting the sense that they are joyfully fucking with the people involved in the film. It’s a beautiful setting, showing a connection with a land and its creatures and in a way offering an idyllic situation. There’s an exuberance and grandeur about Roar that brings a smile to your face, but ever tinged with the possibility it could turn into something horrifying. Never has the sword of Damocles been so fully realized in cinema, only the sword has been replaced by a giant lion named Togar.
While watching Roar I was reminded often of a line uttered by Jack Nicholson in As Good As It Gets in response to a question about how his character wrote women so well. “I think of a man, and I take away reason and accountability.” How does a filmmaker conjure up something like Roar? Well, you start by taking away reason and accountability. Marshall is the equivalent of some bizarro world Walt Disney, crafting the most reckless and insane of family films.
Were I bestowed with the ability to make you see one film this year, it would be Roar. You’ll wonder why you have never heard of it, and you’ll be outraged it existed this long without you seeing it.
Utterly deranged filmmaking, unparalleled entertainment.
Roar will have a limited theatrical release across the US from April 17th, and will be available on Blu-ray, DVD and On Demand platforms later this summer. Check here for listings.
Tippi Hedren still operates the Shambala Preserve where the film was set as well as the ongoing conservation efforts there. Checkout http://www.shambala.org/ to learn more.