Rating: G
Runtime: 1 hour, 25 minutes
Directors: Pippa Ehrlich and James Reed
Quick Impressions:
When I found out My Octopus Teacher was actually about an octopus, I had to see it.
Maybe you’re asking, “What else would it be about, Sarah?”
Well, you see, when I first heard of the film, I knew it was a documentary generating all sorts of Oscar buzz, so I assumed its title was playful, artsy, abstract, maybe even translated from a foreign language. (Doesn’t that title make it sound like a release by Studio Ghibli? My Neighbor Totoro, Grave of the Fireflies, The Cat Returns, My Octopus Teacher. See how nicely that fits in?) I assumed the “octopus” part was a metaphor or an inside-joke-type nickname you had to see the film to understand.
But no, there is nothing so arcane as that going on here. My Octopus Teacher is literally about a man who learns life lessons from an octopus. Where does he meet this wise octopus? In the ocean, of course. (This is live action, a feature length, Oscar-nominated documentary.)
Who could resist a film about learning life lessons from an octopus? Certainly not me. For one thing, I love octopuses, particularly this octopus.
After the film, I sighed to my husband, “When I watched the SAG Awards, I was in love with Helen Mirren, and now I am in love with this octopus. What does that say about me?”
“That you love clever women,” he replied, adding with a laugh, “Of course, I’m not sure what that says about me.”
“There’s room enough in my heart for you and that octopus,” I assured him grandly.
But really, this is the best octopus! In fact, the octopus is so charming and compelling that I wish the Academy actually gave out an award for Best Octopus. No other octopus would stand a chance.
The Good:
The human leading us into this strange, underwater world is pretty compelling, too. No kidding, I could tell he was a man after my own heart when he basically began by saying, “I got so burned out obsessively working on a documentary about African trackers that my home life fell apart. So I decided to make friends with this octopus I found.”
I’m paraphrasing and condensing what he actually said, but the way he just fell into this whole thing is so charming. He operates just like I do. Can’t get your head out of your work? The obvious solution is to start a big research project…you know, just for fun. Craig Foster (the narrator) is clearly a person who thrives on taking deep dives into whatever has attracted his interest, in this case, the ocean.
What’s most interesting about this whole project is that it happened when Foster was pointedly trying not to do a project. He tells us that he was somewhat broken after burying himself in work, so he would unwind by swimming in the ocean near his home.
But his home happens to be near Cape Town, South Africa, and the waters just outside his door look not unlike that tempestuous marine planet where Matthew McConaughey takes a costly detour in Interstellar. The surf here is a painter’s dream. These look like the waters where art is born.
So Foster swims out, operating on instinct. His instinct tells him to wear no protective clothing in the frigid ocean. And when he spots a cool octopus, his instinct tells him to keep swimming out, again and again, to check in with this exact same cool octopus every single day. The next thing you know, he’s being more attentive to this octopus than a rom-com protagonist in a new relationship. One minute, he’s interacting with her. The next he’s following her, practically stalking her. (In fact, I suppose you could say that he’s literally stalking her, hunting her footsteps, though only for purposes of observation. As I watched, I thought of it in human terms. At that time, I was feeling very protective of the octopus, and I thought his attentions were a bit aggressive, so when I thought of him stalking her then, I meant in the way an unwanted admirer might stalk a human woman. But now as I’m writing it out, I’m realizing that since she is an animal, and he’s learning to track her, he’s literally stalking prey.)
What begins as a simple way to unwind and regroup after burnout evolves into an intense relationship not only with this octopus, but also with the environment in which she lives. The next thing you know, Foster is drawing elaborate maps of “the kelp forest,” and “trying to think like an octopus.” We only get a quick glimpse of his maps, but they’re like a what a TV police detective makes when trailing a serial killer mashed up with the hand-drawn look at Middle Earth Tolkien gives us in the beginnings of his novels. (They also reminded me a little of the meticulous homemade dungeon replicas my mother used to create when playing the original NES Legend of Zelda, except those featured rectangular rooms, and these highlight round, organic spaces.)
I can’t tell you how much I identify with behavior like this. My daughter and I are always starting projects as if it’s the meaning of life, and researching for recreation is my middle name. I find nature so soothing and centering, too, and though I’ve never had the opportunity to dive in the frigid, tempestuous seas near South Africa, I never miss an opportunity to crawl through the wildflowers with my camera at the ready. I have never stalked an octopus myself, but I have patiently followed many a bee.
What makes Foster’s time with the octopus best is that he just wants to be with her. He has no real end or design. He simply enjoys spending time in the company of this octopus, so he decides that there’s no point doing it half way. He visits every single day and records his journeys. I mean, forget the octopus. There’s something deeply compelling about the human behavior there. I’m sure the octopus thinks so, too. I’m sure she’s initially so baffled by him, by the idea of doing something just because.
Early on, I kept complaining, “But what is the octopus getting out of this relationship?” Then Foster asks that question himself, and eventually he provides a fairly satisfactory answer.
The photography in this film makes me so jealous. Now not only do I want an octopus for a friend, but I also want to dive in the mystical kelp forest and take amazing photographs and videos. Visually, the film is stunning, a feast for the eyes and soul, and the music can be quite effective, too.
But, of course, as you’ve probably guessed, the best part of the movie is the octopus. What an octopus! I wish I knew her! After watching the film, I feel like I do.
That’s what this film does best. It gives us an intimate portrait of an octopus. As I’m learning, they’re incredible animals. But this one is presented to us not only as a fascinating animal, but also as an individual with a personality. Through knowing her, Foster, of course, learns and discovers more about her species (through not just observation but out-of-the-water research, too. He reads books, finds them all inadequate). And what octopuses can do is amazing. They’re so smart, so clever, so adaptable. And I had no idea that they were such chameleons, masters of camouflage! What makes the movie special, though, is that Foster builds a relationship with her as an individual. (He always refers to this octopus using she/her pronouns. He never names her, but when he says “she,” it sounds so personal.) This isn’t the voice of David Attenborough taking us through the common behaviors and skills of the octopus. It’s a man letting us marvel with him at the cleverness and resilience of his close personal friend, this particular octopus.
Besides showcasing one enchanting octopus, the movie also gives you the idea that you could probably fall in love with anything (or at least develop a deep appreciation for anything) if you simply dedicate enough time to it, approaching it on its own terms, with no agenda. Foster tells us at the end that he became a better father and now has a deeper bond with his son. It seems hard to argue with the idea that where your time and energy go, your heart will follow.
Best Action Sequence:
When Foster watches the octopus in predator mode, he describes her so affectionately, and the film treats her like the star of an action film, now the hero, now the monster. She gets her own theme music, and nothing she hunts is a match for her uncannily quick adjustments. She learns fast, and when prey evades her, she changes her tactics.
Best Scene Visually:
I love the moment of unexpected play near the end of the film. It’s quite reassuring to see this strange behavior from the octopus. Not only does the scene look gorgeous–hypnotic, idyllic, relaxing–but it filled my heart with happiness to realize that the octopus is definitely getting something from the relationship, too. As I said, she makes quick, intelligent adjustments. Surely her behavior in this scene is something she’s learned from her human friend. As an octopus, she likely would not have seen value in such activity before (though we don’t know for sure). But her relationship with the curious human has changed her, and now she does. And the bit at the end of this happy moment is exceptionally touching.
Best Scene:
You’ve never seen anything until you’ve seen an octopus outwit a shark. I like the film’s emphasis on the utter wildness of nature here, always far stranger than anything humans could invent.
The Negatives:
I wish the film had just gone on forever. I wish he were still out there swimming with that particular octopus, but, evidently, the lifespan of an octopus is quite short. (I will say that I was pleased this film ends less horrifically than some nature documentaries. The ending has kind of a peaceful, all-is-as-it-should-be, Charlotte’s Web vibe, which is a more serene finish that I had honestly been expecting.)
I hope this movie wins the Oscar for Best Documentary. (It’s very easy to hope that now. I haven’t seen the other nominees yet! It always gets harder to play favorites once I’ve watched everything.)
I do have some small complaints, though. One sounds slightly crazy to me when I write it out in words. But as I was watching the movie, I started to resent the fact that we get only one side of the story. The man tells us all about his relationship with the octopus. He uses his language and photography to frame and shape our experience and understanding of their entire relationship. But what does the octopus think? I wish we knew. Early on this bothered me more. There’s a moment fairly early when he drops something accidentally and frightens her. She swims away. He follows too quickly and frightens her again. She moves. So then he thinks up more clever ways to follow her. I find this slightly weird behavior given that he is trying to establish trust and build a relationship with her. He knows what she wants, yet he blatantly does the opposite thing. Usually when you’re trying to communicate with someone, you make some attempt to read the person’s cues.
But, of course, the octopus cannot tell us her version of the story. And he does make her a star for us with his amazing cinematography. He reveals to us just how special she is. And in time, as I watched, I did see what appeared to be a mutually appreciated bond between them forming.
Sometimes the bond seemed a little too intense. At one point, I found myself thinking, “What is this, The Shape of Water?” At another, my husband joked, “On an unrelated note, my marriage failed.” He seems to obsess over this octopus to the exclusion of all else. But then he abruptly tells us that his bond with his son is strengthening. That part almost feels tacked on. To me, the end feels a bit like, “Oh well, now that I can’t be with my octopus, I suppose I’ll spend time with you, son. You’re like a human octopus. I guess I’ll get used to you.” But then he shows us that he’s actually been involving his son in the process the whole time, which does make his involvement with him seem a bit more whole-hearted and genuine than I originally thought. I’m not sure why the documentary waits until the end to spring real evidence of the deepening relationship with the son on us, though.
But these are trifling complaints. I do think that the narrator is a bit weird, yes. But who cares. I love the octopus so much.
Overall:
My Octopus Teacher is streaming now on Netflix. It’s just under ninety minutes long. If you have any interest at all in octopuses or even simply the environment in which they live, please watch this Oscar-nominated documentary. I can’t imagine that you’ll be disappointed because the octopus herself is so wonderfully engaging. She’s the breakout star of the year as far as I’m concerned. Whether or not you’re interested in the Oscars, watch this one for the octopus. She’s worth it. You won’t regret it. I promise.