NOT Worth Your Valuable Time

Before I get into this, let's bring everyone up to speed. If you're unfamiliar with the recent documentary called Zoo, here's the description of it's plot, courtesy of Netflix:

This documentary closely examines the sensationalized story of a man from Seattle who died from a ruptured colon after having sex with a horse in a barn. Director Robinson Devor transcends the shocking headlines to explore the circle of people who secretly possess an interest in bestiality. Two friends of the man who died as well as a horse advocate provide narration for much of the film.

My first thoughts upon hearing about Zoo were, in this order, "Gross," "Well of course I have to see this," and, "this has the potential to be the most hilarious movie about horse-fucking since Hidalgo (it's subtle, but it's there)." Now, just to be clear, it's not that I want to see people have sex with horses; I recognize that the act is sick and sad and more than likely disgusting. It's just that... okay, it's the same reason celebrity sex tapes are so popular, or why every skeezy, metalheaded, 18-year-old you've ever met has a copy of Faces of Death hidden in the back of his closet. Nobody really wants to see Tommy Lee's wang, nobody really wants to see a guy parachute into an alligator pit and get eaten... but... if the tape's available and if there's enough liquor around, well then, both sound like a full, rich evening of entertainment. It's that desire to see it with your own eyes, even if you know it will be horrifying; that's what drives us as a species to seek out things such as these and it's what drove me, specifically, to rent a documentary on the subject of bestiality. That, and I thought it would be soooo hot.

Kidding, kidding...

So, I've got Zoo rented and, frankly, I'm ready to laugh my ass off at a bunch of freaks. Oh, what? Like you're so perfect. Anyway, I pop it into the DVD player, a frosty beverage at the ready, and I watch it from beginning to end.

Kids, let me say this: I wouldn't have thought it possible, but the filmmakers of Zoo somehow managed to take the subject of horse-fucking and make it as boring as an industrial training film on farming equipment. I mean, okay, I guess they get points for taking the high road and not going all Springer on the subject but... c'mon... we're talking about a group of men who like to get fucked by horses!!! There's trying to be classy and then there's just completely ignoring the ridiculousness of the situation. This movie is so far up it's own ass, it actually attempts to coerce the audience into sympathizing with these guys. They're lonely, they're misunderstood, they really love the horses... yeah, sorry, but I'm not buying what you're selling. Painting them as sympathetic characters actually has the opposite effect: It makes them more creepy than if we were just presented with a bunch of mentally-ill horse "enthusiasts." They're all, to the man, a Norman Bates-in-training and by the end you'll find yourself wishing for PETA to show up with their vegan ninjas and give all the guys a swift, terrible beat down.

But alright, fine, if the filmmakers want to try to make sad-clown portraits out of this collection of weirdos, that's fine. Their prerogative. It's weird and misguided, but whatever; it's not even the worst part. What really sucks, and what makes Zoo almost unwatchable, is the thick slather of pretentiousness that coats every frame of it's eighty-minute duration. Let me break it down for you, bullet-point style:

-The entire movie is done reenactment-style; all of the people in it are actors. They do not speak.

-The entire movie is narrated by the actual participants (i.e. the horse-fuckers and the animal rescue people). The narration comes from extensive audio interviews with the subjects, who refused to be filmed for pretty obvious reasons.

-The entire movie consists of long, unwavering shots of landscapes, barns, the guys sitting around drinking in living rooms, the guys walking slowly through fields, etc while the narration drones on and on about "the beauty of the horse." There's no "action," horse-fucking or otherwise, to speak of. It's all very artsy-fartsy and very, very, dull; it's a lot like watching your least-favorite relative's travel videos of the Pacific Northwest as lensed by Tak Fujimoto.

In other words, it's the horse-fucking documentary equivalent of eating a huge Thanksgiving dinner, taking a handful of Ambien, and washing it all down with a few pulls from a jumbo bottle of NyQuil.

So, to sum up, Zoo is not the horse-fucking movie you're looking for. Watching it over the weekend made me hate my film degree, it made me feel like a bad person for wanting it to be more salacious, and it made me want to avoid Seattle for a good long while. They have sex with horses up there, ya know.

NOTE: If you're a reader of ZFS! who lives in or has love for Seattle, then I'm obviously not talking about you. You're awesome. It's all those other people that you've got to look out for.