When one considers the documentary premise of an isolated man spending a year living with a flock of wild turkeys, an enormous amount of comedic thoughts spring to mind, soon transforming into genuine concern about rural madness. The oddity of such a personal experience is monumental, approaching levels of parody that rival the reach of "SNL," but the Nature production, "My Life as a Turkey," is dead serious about the subject matter. Investigating a man who gave up a good chunk of his life to raise turkeys from hatchlings, the program is a shockingly emotional experience that leads with its heart, asking the viewer to process the highs and lows of life with these odd creatures, observing their devotion to leadership, feel for their surroundings, and examination of their instincts, guided by a reserved, mustached Floridian who didn't anticipate becoming a mother during his lifetime.
Keeping to himself in the far reaches of a Florida forest, Joe Hutto worked peacefully on his art projects, studying wildlife in detail and gaining an appreciation for the nuances of nature. Finding the majesty of the wild turkey elusive, Hutto came across the opportunity of a lifetime when presented with bucket of turkey eggs, gifted a chance to witness the development of the chicks and capture their undisturbed instinctual process. However, hatching chicks was only a tiny part of the grand turkey undertaking, requiring Hutto to step into a parental role, encouraging the tiny turkeys to imprint on the human male, accepting the artist as their mother. With the world as his backyard, Hutt raised the turkeys to the best of his ability, keeping a strict diary about the venture, recalling the daily adventures of his "children" and their eternal curiosity. The gang grew as a family, leaving Hutto in a peculiar position of influence, assisting his research needs greatly as the turkeys eventually began to accept their natural path to maturity.
Oddly, "My Life as a Turkey" isn't a documentary in the traditional sense, but a recreation that uses Hutto's diaries (explored in his book, "Illumination in the Flatwoods") as a script, with actor Jeff Palmer portraying the turkey momma, shadowed closely by his feathered friends. Hutto appears only in interview form, discussing his life with the birds, offering carefully considered recollections and intimate feelings about his parental duties. While the artificiality is initially off-putting, the production soon finds a superb balance between conversation and mimicry, reinforcing the distinctiveness of the situation through exceptional sun-kissed cinematography and poetic musings. Establishing an almost dreamlike bubble of memory, "My Life as a Turkey" finds a sincere position of remembrance, treating Hutto's experience with the dignity and loving embrace it deserves. I know the program sounds utterly bizarre, but the producers do an outstanding job creating an atmosphere of discovery and bonding that feels like a sugar-free Disney picture, embracing an unlikely connection, respecting the delicate emotions in play.
Lucking into a unique position of observation, Hutto found himself unable to walk away from his turkey responsibilities, watching as his tiny charges followed him everywhere he went, requiring his presence for guidance and sleep during the early months of life. Giving up everything to be with the turkeys, Hutto grew into his responsibility; of course, with this level of wildlife immersion came an incredible opportunity for education, with Hutto offered a front-row seat to the significance of turkey calls and numerous behaviors, studying extraordinary curiosity as the little ones strolled out into the woods, finding their instinct a powerful weapon when encountering sources of food and predatory advancement. "My Life as a Turkey" avoids an academic display of facts and figures to simply exist with the birds, employing Hutto's discoveries, understanding how a creature traditionally associated with stupidity is actually quite perceptive, with a tremendous sensitivity to environmental changes, impacting the baseball-capped leader of the feathered flock further.
As the months passed, Hutto's emotional investment in his young turkeys grew. Suddenly, the artist had kids, even making the effort to name the birds (e.g. Sweet Pea and Turkey Boy), helping to deepen the connection. As with any situation with wildlife (and that pesky circle of life), there are going to be losses. "My Life as a Turkey" boldly examines the death of a few brothers -- one recreation observing a rat snake infiltrating the turkey pen and chomping down on one of the chicks, only to find its escape through a fence thwarted by the bulge in its belly. Hutto takes the death hard, a feeling bordering on depression as a few more members of the family are lost to disease. The documentary also grows downright philosophical at certain points, with the artist examining the "live for the moment" mentality of the turkeys, encouraging viewers to adopt the attitude in today's bustling world of unforgiving schedules.
Although Hutto refers to his stay with the birds as an "experiment," the yearlong period sheds any type of scientific tone early on, revealing a man who's simply fallen in love with his "children," hoping to protect them from the evils of the world, only to find their own maturation leading them to independence Hutto was expecting, but hardly prepared for.
The AVC encoded image (1.78:1 aspect ratio) presentation carries a satisfactory sense of turkey details, offering a clear look at the stars of the show, with their dense feathers and bumpy, sharp faces. Textures are good here, delivering turkey particulars with a hearty contrast of hardness and softness, playing with focal points to reinforce the tender qualities of the subject matter. Human elements are equally preserved, with comfortable skintones and facial nuances, keeping both Hutto and Palmer rugged (slightly leathered too) yet emotionally explicit. Forests and wetlands retain an agreeable sense of color, with greens and browns distinct, generating an evocative feel for the locations as the turkeys scurry along, also bringing their own subdued but flavorful range of personal hues. Shadow detail solidifies on occasion, but the image is rarely impenetrable, keeping distances and dark feather detail open for inspection.
The 5.1 Dolby Digital sound mix generates a charming feel for the remote surroundings without ever digging into the sonic complexities of the area. Surround activity is limited, employed primarily to capture distant creature activity and changes in the weather, best explored during a downpour sequences where Hutto quickly works to get the turkeys out of the rain. The aural emphasis is pushed up front, providing a crisp presentation of narration, retaining the fluid emotional content without losing anything to distortion. Turkey calls and movement are equally pronounced, hitting a few high notes that sound fresh instead of shrill. Scoring is generally effective, with a soft acoustical mood carrying clean instrumentation and comfortable placement, supporting the affectionate ambiance. Soundtrack selections are also handled with depth, filling out the dimensional arrangement. Low-end is nonexistent.
"My Life as a Turkey" is a surprisingly sensitive viewing experience, creating an intense understanding of Hutto's moment with the birds and how parental duty changed his understanding of its enigmatic ways. Not every question is answered (I have to assume Hutto was caked in fecal matter at the end of each day), but a lasting portrait of commitment is created in this startlingly enlightening, endearingly sensitive documentary. Who knew time with turkeys could generate such a turbulent ride of emotions.
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