Deep in the Heart

One of the most obnoxious elements of Texas culture is the arrogance of exceptionalism, based around the idea that people have made Texas better. The truth is that the land and wildlife that exists within border confines drawn by human hands are remarkable in their own right, as remarkable as anywhere else on the planet. Thus, they are deserving of a documentary that unifies the beauty, complexity, and interconnectedness of the Lone Star State's multiplicity of environments and ecosystems. That's what Deep in the Heart does: It gives the animals and wild places of Texas a shining place on the big screen.

Director Ben Masters touched on this topic in his last film, border documentary The River and the Wall, within the boundaries of the banks of the Rio Grande. He subtly debunked the idea of the Texas border as just dust and tumble weeds, traveling instead from streams on high peaks, via lazy drifts through shady canyons, to lush rain forests, and finally to the beaches of South Padre Island. But Deep in the Heart goes so much further, from the frozen ranges of Caprock Canyons State Park in the Panhandle, where snow-crusted Bison are coming back from near-extinction, to Flower Garden Banks, out in the Gulf of Mexico, whose coral reefs bask in the nutrient-rich waters that flow from rivers that began as creeks in the Hill Country.

The extraordinary diversity of Texas' habitats and their residents is captured down to the individual scale, feather, and whisker by natural history expert cinematographer Skip Hobbie and his entire team. It's clear that Masters was inspired by David Attenborough's genre-defining work in his Life series of documentary films and series, and, to their absolute credit, the team emulate the quality of work in those shows. The patience required to obtain footage of the elusive and endangered ocelot in its natural and shrining range, or the unpredictable mating habits of the alligator gar, results in a unique record of the state's fauna. However, credit must also go to one of the often overlooked desks in production: colorist Alex Winker. The way the sunsets glow, the dust shimmers, the flesh of translucent cave life passes, ghostlike, in front of the viewer, is given extra vivid life.

But this isn't just a lot of pretty pictures of pretty critturs. Masters, like all truly committed nature documentarians, has a point to make: that these environments are fragile. The opening has more of Ken Burns than David Attenborough about it, a stark warning from history that Texas's track record on protecting its wildlife has been less than stellar, with a few extinctions along the way. The warm timbre in Matthew McConaughey's voice as he talks about the plains and Black Prairie develops a sadder edge when talking about the two real calls to action: water preservation and the hideous treatment of the Mountain Lion population, in which Texas lags behind just about every other state. The consequences of traps and snares left in the wild to mangle and mutilate any animal unfortunate enough to be caught in them is shown in one especially tragic sequence. Deep in the Heart will captivate you, but it will also break your heart, and such moments may make you recoil from the odd mentions of "conservation-minded hunters."

But Masters isn't trying to pick sides. Instead, Deep in the Heart is a reminder to everyone, whether they're raising cattle, walking through a state park, or just turning on a tap, that their actions have consequences for the state's beautiful biodiversity. It's an extraordinary document of the Lone Star State’s wildlife, and a remarkable call to action.