Tigers are among the most loved, admired, commercially exploited, and abused wild animals on earth. They were hunted close to extinction by the mid-20th century in their native lands, are currently farmed in vile facilities in various parts of the world for their bones, their bodies are currently used in superstitious Chinese pseudo-medicine, and they are still kept in zoos worldwide that range from merely inadequate for the species’ true needs to downright abysmal, as well as in abusive commercial cub-handling attractions recently made famous by the egregious tabloid mess that was the 2020 Netflix Tiger King documentary.
Countries such as the USA, China, and South Africa have a criminal captive tiger exploitation problem they are still not close to addressing properly. India, conversely, has tried for decades now to reverse the massive population decline (from 40,000 animals in the early 1900s to a mere 2000 by the early 1960s) and protect their much revered native national animal by turning their remaining habitats into protected forest reserves. These schemes have succeeded in doubling the tiger population to a healthier, although still small, 4000-plus animals by 2022 and have brought in much-needed conservation income through tiger-focused tourism. However, these reserves also border human settlements, and the forests where the tigers live offer resources which these local populations tend to want to use – such as firewood, foraging for their livestock, and in the absence of proper toilet facilities, a place to relieve themselves. This leads to confrontation and conflict between our two species that often ends in poor outcomes for both – occasional lethal tiger attacks on humans, and just as lethal human revenge attacks on tigers, usually via poisonings and arson attempts on their habitat. To try to prevent these types of destructive escalations, forest guards are employed by the state to patrol the reserves, track and keep an eye on the tigers and try to prevent human incursion into the tigers’ homes. They don’t always succeed in this aim.
Tiger 24 is a documentary that follows the human-tiger conflict through the case of one particularly magnificent male Bengal tiger named T-24 – and nicknamed Ustaad (‘The Master’) by locals, in Ranthambhone forest reserve, after he was accused of killing a dedicated forest ranger, Rampal Saini, in 2015. It appeared this was not T-24’s first rodeo regarding attacking humans; with four previous alleged incidents behind him, and a local population ready to wreak destruction on both tigers and forest, he was promptly tranquilized and placed in a zoo where he began a rapid decline in health. Activists and ordinary Indians who simply revere and respect the tiger, arguing he only killed humans who came into his territory, began protests and legal challenges to return him to his wild home and mate. The film then veers into detective format, looking carefully at all the previous four cases of killing men that T-24 is accused of and for any existing evidence to acquit T-24 from the charge of man-eating. Indian tiger expert and author Valmik Thupar appears to deliver an extended, exasperated rant (“We’re a land of babus and bureaucrats!”) about it being impossible to provide forensic evidence to prove tiger guilt or innocence, or hope to fix these issues around tigers due to ongoing structural and political problems in India.
The reverence that Indians have, for the tiger in general and this tiger in particular, shines through this documentary from start to finish. “He is the king of kings. He is not scared of humans, he is a real tiger,” proclaims an entranced local about T-24, even knowing he has killed humans. Others simply boast of glimpsing him the way some would boast of seeing a celebrity in the street. Seeing is believing, and the early part of the film is worth a thousand words, with truly awe-inspiring footage of tiger T-24 in his forest sanctuary, going about his everyday business alongside his mate, Noor, and a pair of male cubs not quite yet at maturity. These scenes show tigers at their shimmering, active best, fully immersed in their natural environment and activities; hunting, mating, and parenting their young with great care, while roaming their 50 square miles of territory. T-24 is shown to be a good father, bringing food for the cubs and tolerating all manner of playful insolence from them. This footage stands in stark contrast to the zoo T-24 was placed in, or any zoo on earth. T-24 as a dominant wild tiger is utterly diminished by his forced captivity – we have nothing to learn or to admire in him as he becomes a passive recipient of food, devoid of opportunity to hunt and move like a wild tiger: therein lies a lesson for us all about conservation, what we think we are conserving, and why. Is a tiger deprived of all opportunities to be a tiger actually a tiger anymore? Is this spectacle of captivity in tiny closed environments actually educational, as many zoos would claim? What are we actually learning from seeing these animals deprived of their normal huge, wild territories and activities, and who is really benefiting from the diminishment of these captive apex predators? When Noor realises T-24 is missing, she appears severely disturbed and goes on a weeks-long hunt across the territory for him, leaving her now older cubs alone and bewildered. The mournful calls she makes as she searches for her missing mate are dreadful, heart-rending things.
Seeing is also believing when we are shown brief glimpses of the mauled corpse of Rampal Saini and others killed by tigers in Ranthambhone after wandering into the tiger’s home, as are the cries of various wives, mothers and widows of the dead men, quite as heartbreaking a sound as Noor’s calls. At the time of writing, T-24 is still stuck in the zoo, and activists are still trying to get him out or moved to a larger, more natural compound away from the stress of being watched by humans. Any attempt to spring him and return him to his old home is moot though, as shortly after his departure, the rains washed away his scent marks on his old territory and as is normal in nature, another male tiger moved in to claim Noor as his mate. Humans may not have moved on, but nature certainly has. Once removed from nature, there’s seemingly no route back for the most dominant and beautiful tiger in the whole forest. Beyond gorgeous-looking wildlife documentary, detective story, socio-political exploration and conservation polemic, Tiger 24 is, ultimately, a tragedy.
Tiger 24 has begun a limited nationwide theatrical release which includes a week’s run at the Laemmle’s Monica Film Center (Los Angeles), opening September 30. Elevation will then release on all transactional VOD platforms in North America on November 15, 2022.