Nuisance Bear

For anyone who knows anything about polar bears, the opening scenes of Gabriela Osio Vanden and Jack Weisman’s documentary are quietly terrifying. Loping along in that undulating way that bears have, our ursine hero strolls into town, its feet crunching on the frosty grass, approaching a line of cars. One of the doors is open. Might there be a snack inside? Never mind that – pretty soon we see that there’s a human leaning out of it, and several more are standing amongst the cars, taking photos of the bear, seemingly quite unaware of the fact that they are within paw’s reach. The bear pays them no heed. Today, it isn’t hungry enough to risk that kind of trouble. It wants an easy meal – the kind one might find in a bin.

Nuisance bear is a term used to refer to animals who get too comfortable around humans, who grow less and less afraid of them no matter what they do – bears who will, at some point, start eating their pets, or realise how easy they themselves are to kill. To the outsider, however, it sounds like a nickname, and rather endearing. It’s hard not to root for Nuisance Bear, sauntering along the streets, climbing up a heap of snow to peer over a fence into a yard. Nuisance Bear only wants something to eat, after all, and with climate change making life out on the ice harder and harder, some kind of alternative has to be found. The human inhabitants of the town know this. There is no narration, no speech, but the camera shows us a multitude of signs exhorting people to keep bears in mind when recycling, to use bear-safe bins. Bear cages stand at the side of the road in a stack, a sign warning people to keep away.

When the bears pay no attention to the signs, they are chased by trucks, even by helicopters. Guns fired into the air make scary noises, and we see how good they are at running. But Nuisance Bear is not deterred for long. It’s easier to sneak in undercover of darkness, to have another shot at getting to those bins, and to explore. A bar smells particularly good. Bears like alcohol when they can get it, sweet and inebriating. Drunk bears are a problem no human wants to have to deal with. Stronger measures – of a different sort – must be taken.

This is Churchill, Manitoba, but it could be one of any number of northern towns, all facing the same problem as bears once content with fishing and seal hunting are forced to seek out new forms of sustenance. Vanden and Weisman keep their camera at the bear’s eye level, inviting us to empathise. In so doing, they also let us get a close-up view of this beautiful animal. That luxurious coat looks infinitely huggable. That bear would make short work of anyone who got too close, or who took the same liberties in wandering into its familiar territory.

A powerful piece of storytelling edited together from simple observations, Nuisance Bear neatly distils the tragedy of our time, but also finds room for the joy which humans and bears alike find in a spot of mischief.