A scrappy handler discovers that the wild, unruly beasts everyone else writes off can be shaped into headline acts. As the creatures rise from chaos to stage-ready spectacle, the handler must balance fierce ambition with the bonds that make the transformation possible.
Insect repellent, a hose, and a blower? I'll get you the supplies, but Emma, what are you planning to do? I'm going into the enclosure. I'm going to wash him, clean the wounds, and medicate them
so this so-called expert can see just how wrong he is. You're really going in? No sedation? No separation? You want to walk straight into a predator enclosure?
I don't want to put him through the stress of sedation when it isn't necessary. Are you treating him or trying to get yourself killed? If something happens in there, nobody can save you. Max, I'm going to bathe you and put medicine on those wounds.
Behave yourself, got it? Got it. Come on in. I promise I won't touch you. That girl is going into the tiger enclosure by herself with a hose? Is she seriously going to give him a bath?
I give her three minutes. No, 30 seconds before he pounces. Get the tranquilizer gun ready. The second that Siberian tiger makes an aggressive move, get her out. Hold still. Let me check the water temperature first.
Perfect. Hit my back, too. I can feel those bugs washing off. Ah, that's the stuff. You really get me.
A little lower? Yeah, it itches there, too. Oh my god! Why is that tiger taking a bath like somebody's house cat?