‘Tiger King’ Tells a Wild Tale No Fiction Could Ever Surpass

Alci Rengifo

It’s almost guaranteed there will be no character in any TV show this year that will be as memorable as Joe Exotic, who is not a work of fiction. Indeed, Joe Exotic simply couldn’t be made up, or anything else in Netflix’s addictive 7-part docuseries “Tiger King.” Equally astounding is how the main player in this saga is but one of a whole gallery of colorful personalities who serve as examples of just how crazy the world can get. There’s a bit of everything in “Tiger King,” swirling in a feverish true crime cocktail.

His real name is Joseph Allen Schreibvogel aka Joe Exotic aka “The Tiger King.” A self-described “gay, gun-carrying redneck with a mullet,” Joe runs the G.W. Zoo in Oklahoma. His passion at the zoo is breeding and raising tigers. Money comes from the thousands who visit the zoo who get to pet the big cats, Joe might also occasionally sell a tiger or two to specific buyers. Joe isn’t a professional trained in any shape or form when it comes to this line of work, but while it’s legal people like him can essentially run their own zoos. The same is true for his peer Bhagavan “Doc” Antle, who runs his own South Carolina Zoo like a personal cult and harem (literally). This is a world that can also provoke surreal, simmering rivalries. For Joe it means a permanent state of war with Carole Baskin, who runs the Big Cat Rescue haven in Florida. Baskin is a PETA-aligned activist who slams Joe for profiting off the exploitation of his tigers. The growing feud between the two begins pulling in more and more strange characters, from husbands to party animals, FBI snitches and would-be assassins.

“Tiger King” has the uncanny feel of unfolding in real time. This is because directors Rebecca Chaiklin and Eric Goode didn’t start shooting the project after the fact.  It begins as a profile of Joe Exotic and his world, which alone without the incoming intrigue would be quite memorable. Joe is a one-man spectacle, always dressed in shiny clothes, making music videos, shooting off rifles and doting on two “husbands,” one who he picked up at 19. He has the natural ego of a big dreamer, but it becomes the equivalent of a sly personality cult. We also learn that his workers are not only loyal, they are willing to endure quite a lot including making a little over $100 a week and getting lunch from the expired Wal-Mart meat Joe also uses to feed the tigers. Chaiklin and Goode contrast this with fellow tiger breeder Antle, who has his own collection of “wives” who help take care of his tigers, run the zoo and of course take care of him. The gorgeous big cats become the background in all this. They almost function like living props to embody the psyches of certain people, like Mario Tabraue, a Cuban former drug dealer who claims to have inspired Tony Montana’s character in “Scarface.” Tabraue now runs his own private collection of exotic animals while nonchalantly describing past gruesome crimes.

Like that other masterful Netflix docuseries “Wild Wild Country,” about a 1980s standoff between followers of the guru Osho and Oregon locals, “Tiger King” pulls you in by expanding its narrative with new angles in every episode. The docuseries begins as a profile about Joe Exotic before following various developments which then come together in the end for a final tragedy. Joe’s feud with Carole Baskin becomes an all-consuming obsession. His social media videos turn into vicious, crude attacks on Baskin. This opens the door to yet another narrative about how Baskin was once the younger wife of a millionaire who disappeared, leaving her in control of his estate. Her disappeared husband’s previous family and various gossip circles suspect foul play, with Baskin being the prime suspect. This only helps Fuel paranoid posts by Joe practically accusing Baskin of murder. He even makes a music video about it. Well, the details of the case are indeed sketchy, but everyone in his docuseries is a nest of corruption. A former newsman, Rick Kirkham, comes onboard to produce a reality series for Joe which accumulates tons of compromising footage. Once Baskin and Joe’s rivalry culminates in a savage lawsuit, a fire conveniently snuffs out Kirkham’s material. 

And this is still merely the tip of the iceberg when it comes to everything else you will find while binging “Tiger King.” These personal kingdoms of big cats are terrains for big appetites and egos, all at war with each other. Like magnets, people such as Joe then attract other self-boosting, greedy players like Jeff Lowe, heir to a circus fortune who likes to take tiger cubs to attract women in Las Vegas with his swinger wife yet soon ends up in handcuffs before getting pulled completely into Joe’s dark world. There will be suicides, murder plots and even political campaigns once Joe decides he should just run for president, then governor. Moments will reveal that you can’t even trust some people’s claims about their sexual orientation while others could be snooping for the feds. And there are plenty of guns, lots of them like a sick fetish.

In a surreal way “Tiger King” could serve as a metaphor for the American ethos gone berserk. A country where everything is for sale will inevitably produce many Joe Exotics. When he runs for office it’s easy to think about Trump, a few voters even warm up to Joe’s expletive-strewn speeches. But extreme personalities tend to go too far, and when there’s suddenly talk of murder in the air that’s when the Tiger King gets caged. What’s absorbing about “Tiger King” is precisely how it portrays these lives. It took five years for the filmmakers to capture it all and the result is a chronicle unlike anything you can stream right now. It’s a human tragedy, dark and even humorous about how the world is truly a jungle.

“Tiger King” begins streaming March 20 on Netflix.