I have never seen a funnier film in my life.
We had in The Wicker Man a fine concept revived - the Pure Fool, whose curiousity and innocence, together will a few "assumptions", propel him first into a fetching white dress, and thence the fire of sacrifice. We have in Grizzly Man the document of a far more determined and informed exit strategy.
In this film by Werner Herzog, we are introduced to the amateur thinker and onetime spoor fetishist Timothy Treadwell. We watch as he simpers around huge wild Alaskan bears, giving them cute names and conversing with them. He is preserved in this habit for thirteen years before the bears review their policy of tolerance to hippies with "Prince Valiant" haircuts.
If Treadwell's mission were to persuade a family of foxes and a population of bears of the utter fuckwittedness of our glorious species, on his partially digested head we place the laurels of victory.