The Other Side Of Blackfish

BY MELANIE SMITH

When you see a sea creature that’s larger than a car, it’s overwhelming to watch them part water with an unexpected grace.  Locking eyes with them, you know a vast intelligence exists, though only connecting through two tiny holes underneath the white spot streaked over flawless, dark skin.  Orcinus Orca, commonly known as the killer whale, has sparked controversy about its captivity since the 1960s, when the first of its kind was placed in captivity. While the 2013 documentary, Blackfish, has brought the issue to the media’s attention, it failed to do so in a truthful and scientific manner.

Directed by Gabriela Cowperthwaite, Blackfish aired about a year ago at the Sundance Film Festival as well as this past summer on CNN and theaters in the United States. Nominated for numerous awards, Blackfish uses the killer whale, Tilikum, and the death of its trainer, Dawn Brancheau, as a mechanism for the campaign against captivity.

As a whale enthusiast prior to the documentary, I was definitely interested in all the hype Blackfish had received.  Unfortunately, it did not fail to disappoint due to the lack of indisputable scientific support within. Instead, all of the film’s backing relied heavily on historical events that while important, became redundant after about the third example.  Also, Blackfish wrongly chose SeaWorld as a scapegoat for the whale abuse problem.

Whether you connected with Blackfish or not, it’s apparent that while some parts of it are true, many implied aspects are not.  While the horrid capture of the whales within U.S. waters made for some powerful scenes in the documentary, others sparked lies that are implied by viewers.  In one scene, the narrator states that killer whales are “dangerous animals,” followed by a shot of a trainer with a bloody face, leading the audience to believe that the injury resulted from a whale attack.  Yet, in an interview posted on the Internet by another former trainer, Kyle Kittleson, it is revealed that the trainer had merely run into one of the screens on stage.  Had a killer whale truly attacked a trainer’s face, there is no way he would only have a bloodied face.  In Blackfish itself, an orca had bitten and broken a trainer’s arm, clearly demonstrating the animals are capable of breaking bones; an animal that strong would have easily and visibly damaged the structure of the skull.

Blackfish is very one sided, and does not cover the other angle of the controversy.  This can be seen before even turning the film on, in the description provided by the company, “…to show how nature can get revenge on man when pushed to the limits.”   The golden rule when studying any kind of animal behavior is to not personify the creature.  They are not human, and therefore could think, feel, and act in ways completely foreign to us.  Unless one of the producers is the first person to speak fluent whale, I doubt anyone has the right to call an entire species “vengeful” by nature.

While touching upon the precarious issue of marine mammal captivity, Blackfish bashed SeaWorld, the largest proprietor of killer whales.  As a result, SeaWorld’s side of the argument was especially skewed in the film.  Blackfish made SeaWorld out to be the antagonist, but the controversy is so complex that unlike a childhood comic book, the hero and villain are not as easily defined. SeaWorld does not physically mistreat its animals.  In fact, the victim of the most recent killer whale attack in 2010, Dawn Bracheau’s family released a statement concerning Blackfish; according to an article published by the Orlando Sentinel, they stated, “Dawn Brancheau believed in the ethical treatment of animals. … Dawn would not have remained a trainer at SeaWorld for 15 years if she felt that the whales were not well cared for.”  Some of the marine park’s revenues also go to rescue, rehabilitate, and release multiple marine species.   SeaWorld’s biggest reason for the captivity of orcas is that they provide important education to people, and more importantly, children.  Few people are privileged to see an orca in the wild, but in captivity, people can have a physical, 3-D image of what they have to protect and preserve.

Although Blackfish tackles an important issue, it falls short due to the lack of objective evidence to backup its assertion. The capture of killer whales is prohibited in U.S. and Canadian waters; therefore, whales are bred in captivity. While the wild-captured whales have shown to become psychologically damaged, what about the ones who have never known the ocean, but only their tank?  If you stayed inside all the time and didn’t know any different, wouldn’t you be different?  While physically the whales are healthy, there is not enough research to support if whales are truly mentally damaged or unhappy.  This is where Blackfish jumped the gun; they focused on wild whales, when the true issue lies with the mental state of captive whales.