By Sunny Choi · December 25, 2011
There’s a reason why Americans are known for America’s hegemonic influence on the mass media. I don’t know what has prompted me to take a more militant and cynical stance against this movie. Perhaps it’s due to the Occupy movement, in which the largest sector of Americans have taken a stance against the one percent that controls much of the public, economic, and social discourse. Or perhaps it was the way Benjamin Mee (Matt Damon) kept purporting to give his children the “Authentic American Experience,” whatever that may mean. Can one truly pinpoint one type of experience as authentically American? Benjamin Mee’s mission statement implies that upper class Americans are entitled to pursue the best life for themselves and their progeny. This movie insinuates that only they possess the money and heart to provide the best future for their children.
This movie might have been more whole-heartedly received about ten years ago, when most Americans were rather unaware that the richest elites were increasingly gaining control over the public domain. In this unfortunate economic climate, many Americans cannot find work. A lot of people struggle to keep their rental properties, let alone an eighteen-acre lot equipped with the wildest animals and an expert zoo-keeping staff.
Now, I find myself wondering, why should we revere Benjamin Mee? Oh, that’s right, because he’s the All-American single dad who can afford to buy and renovate a zoo. This film betrays a darker undercurrent–the American tendency to neglect honoring the real heroes–the everyday salary-men, firefighters, and even the zookeepers who actually managed to keep the animals alive. On the other hand, the “visionaries,” those who have the money to materialize their dreams into reality, are disproportionately rewarded and glorified in America.
The story starts with Dylan (Colin Ford) narrating that his father Benjamin is “a writer who specialized in adventure.” As an investigative journalist, Benjamin interviewed dangerous dictators and flew into the center of Hurricane Charlie. However, these strange and exotic adventures did not prepare him for the task of being a single father. Rejecting all forms of sympathy, Benjamin also quits his job at the newspaper. Mourning the loss of his wife and dealing with Dylan’s expulsion from school, Benjamin decides to look for a new house with new opportunities and start over. While searching for a new home, Benjamin and Rosie fall in love with the perfect 18-acre property with a wonderful house, but they soon discover that it comes with a zoo. With the help of the zoo specialists (Scarlett Johansson, Angus MacFayden, and Patrick Fugit), Benjamin must restore this dilapidated zoo so that it can reopen on July 7th.
The creators should have cut the unnecessary fluff. First, it could have done without the irrelevant teen romance. Lily (Elle Fanning), a thirteen-year-old intern, comes off a little too desperate for human interaction when she keeps hitting on the moody Dylan. Her attempts at adult flirtation and coyness only cluttered up the story instead of enhancing it. Johansson’s screen time consisted of close ups of smiles and flirtations. All in all, the female characters were very uninteresting and served purely as love interests.
The film shines as it depicts Benjamin’s interaction with his seven-year-old daughter, Rosie (Maggie Elizabeth Jones). Damon and Jones are so believable as father and daughter, especially when Benjamin is tucking in Rosie, who asks if her mom had suffered severe pain as she was dying. Their heart-to-heart exchanges make this film bearable. She holds not only her family but also this movie together with her lovely smile and her adorable cheers, one of them including, “We bought a zoo!” In strong contrast, Dylan resents that his dad purchased the zoo with little regard for his wants and needs. Most of the time, he draws disturbing images that serve as an emotional outlet for his grief and sadness.
The conflict between Benjamin and his son may represent the commercialist optimism of the older generation clashing with the cynicism of the younger generation. In a tough confrontation with his son, Benjamin yells something along the lines of, “I bought you a house with all these cool animals and these very nice people, and what thanks do I get?” When his son further challenges his vision of the American Dream, Benjamin reminds him that, “we have a seven-year-old child that believes in Easter bunnies.” Perhaps because I’m closer to Dylan’s generation, I believe that like the Easter bunny, the unimodal American Dream (2.5 children, suburban house with a white picket fence) is an illusion, and individuals must cultivate and pursue their own vision of the good life. Mere commercialism and optimism cannot be the panacea for all problems. Benjamin eventually realizes that mere relocation cannot solve his grief. Instead of using the American Dream as an escapist crutch, Benjamin must come to terms with his loss.
One of the most heart-wrenching moments in the narrative was when Benjamin refuses to euthanize Spar, an aging tiger suffering from terminal illness. After losing his wife, he struggles to cope with the possibility of death. Damon gives a compelling performance as he pleads Spar to take his medicine and conquer his illness. However, he is acting rather selfishly. He realizes that merely relocating and starting a new life cannot eliminate the past. What follows is the film’s most powerful moment, when Benjamin finally allows himself to grieve and reminisce as he scrolls through old family pictures. The scene shifts to a beautiful flashback of their family picnic, and Benjamin re-visualizes this memory in his kitchen. Jonsi’s score surges to support highly charged emotional scenes like these.
All in all, this movie will delight families with slightly older children. The story may be too convoluted and long for younger children to enjoy. With its uplifting conclusion about the American family and experience, it will attract but may also repel some viewers, depending on how readily they can relate to the conventional American Dream.