In the early days of lockdown, as the world adjusted to a new normal, millions of people were captivated by “Tiger King,” Netflix’s impossibly strange docuseries about big cat-loving oddballs and the surreal dramas they became embroiled in. It was entertainment’s first megahit of the COVID era, and almost immediately sparked countless discussions about its questionable ethics and prurient views of its eccentric ensemble. The questions the series raised about journalistic responsibility clearly preoccupied “Tiger King” director Eric Goode, and with his latest foray into the world of people who own rare animals, HBO’s “Chimp Crazy,” he seems eager to learn from past mistakes.
It’s not hard to see what drew Goode to this story. From the moment we meet Tonia Haddix, the woman at the center of the narrative, it’s clear she has the potential to be a Joe Exotic in the making. Perma-tanned, constantly in the lip filler clinic, and obsessed with all things pink, the self-proclaimed Dolly Parton of the chimp world admits several times that she loves these animals more than her own children. Her love for these animals leads her to the Missouri Primate Foundation, the ramshackle facility of Connie Casey, a notorious chimpanzee breeder. There she meets Tonka, a former animal actor who appeared in films such as George of the Jungle and Buddy. It’s love at first sight, but the shady market for wild pets and Haddix’s own dealings come under scrutiny from both local authorities and the animal rights organization PETA. A legal battle soon ensues involving funeral pyres, deception, and actor Alan Cumming.
From the start, the ethical minefield of the documentary and Goode’s approach is set up. Now toxic to his favorite subjects thanks to “Tiger King,” he hires an assistant director to talk to Haddix and Casey, the latter avoiding the spotlight as much as possible. Dwayne Cunningham, a circus clown and former animal trainer with a shady past, steps forward and takes on the role of sympathetic stand-in for Goode’s camera. It doesn’t take much for Haddix to open up. She’s happy to let the filmmakers know what she thinks about PETA (negatively), capuchin monkeys (she prefers chimpanzees) and Tonka (he’s her son, more than her actual child). While Goode and his colleagues can’t quite resist mentioning Tonia’s character traits, they thankfully avoid turning her into a pseudo-ironic punching bag.
You can see them trying to avoid the “Tiger King” elements, even when they’re presented in such overt ways as Haddix’s provocation of PETA’s Jared Goodman (whom she calls “Pee-wee Herman”) or interviews with supporting actors who have a lot of main character energy. Unlike “Tiger King,” “Chimp Crazy” focuses much more on the real subject: the animals. The buying and selling of chimpanzees and other endangered species for business, entertainment and pet purposes is a tangled ecosystem with, in many cases, shockingly little legal oversight. Casey’s run-down chimp breeding center is described at one point as a puppy mill. Haddix, who becomes a rare-animal broker, uses a public Facebook page to solicit sales. As the series progresses, this shady industry turns out to be both sinister and ridiculous: a tangled web of dealers and schemers who ignore the obvious suffering they cause and instead fill their own delusions (and wallets).
“Chimp Crazy” isn’t cruel to Tonia Haddix, but it certainly doesn’t make her a folk hero, as “Tiger King” Joe Exotic unfairly did. She’s often charming and seems devoted to these animals, but there’s a big difference between animal love and animal expertise. Respect is another matter entirely. Tonia whines and sobs about Tonka’s fate while feeding him energy drinks and Happy Meals. She’s one of many women who project maternal power and anthropomorphic desires onto these animals, believing them to be hairy people who, deep down, love them too. Every time you see her with a chimp, you cringe and prepare for them to snap at some point. In some scenes, it looks like Tonka is about to rip one of Tonia’s fingers off.
Cleverly, “Chimp Crazy” goes beyond that one case. Cases of chimps attacking humans are now all too familiar headlines. There’s Travis, Sandra Herold’s beloved chimpanzee child (and born on Connie Casey’s estate), who ripped her friend Charla Nash to pieces and left her faceless. Across the country, there was Buck, another pet who attacked his owner and was shot. The stories are the same everywhere: The chimps were such well-behaved babies, but then they got too wild, and no one expected them to be so brutal except those who recognized the warning signs from the start. When Herold loses Travis and is traumatized by her friend’s near-death experience, it’s less than a year before she gets another chimp as a pet.
While the ethical aspects of owning and trading wild animals are pretty straightforward here (spoiler: you shouldn’t), the filmmaking issues are a bit more complicated. Goode gets his interviews through deception and when Haddix opens up to Cunningham, a likable guy who feels genuine compassion for them, the crew must face the consequences of their plan. At what point does the story’s supposedly passive viewer step up and change the narrative? This makes for a more engaging viewing experience and helps to alleviate the undeniable disgust that “Tiger King” inspired.
In a moment of brutal candor, Haddix admits that her love for chimps is an addiction, like opening a bag of potato chips: “You can’t have just one.” As the series progresses, her initial earnestness actually loses meaning, revealing a callousness and an obsessive determination to maintain control of these animals at all costs. Like the women who owned Travis and Buck, she’s willing to ignore scientific evidence, moral decency and the obvious pain in her own animals’ eyes to feed the dream that she’s their mother. It’s an outrageous tragedy, a portrait of misguided passion that can end only one way. Haddix and her ilk repeatedly emphasize that they love these animals, but “Chimp Crazy” makes clear that love, if it is love at all, simply isn’t enough.
“Chimp Crazy” premieres Sunday, August 18 on HBO and will stream on Max.
