Corky is the first documentary from co-writer/director Christine Caruso. In fact, it is the debut film of any kind for this kindergarten teacher. This is the inaugural outing for co-writer/editor Kaarina Makowski as well. Does the film succeed, or are these first-time filmmakers in over their heads?
Corky is a female orca who was snatched off the coast of British Columbia in 1969. As of the film being made and the writing of this review, the killer whale is still alive, making her the oldest whale in captivity and the one held for the longest amount of time.
The documentary chronicles Corky’s capture at four years old (approximately) and the numerous places that held her. First, there was Marineland, a sealife park that was very popular for a time. Eventually, they were bought by SeaWorld, who moved the beloved whale to their San Diego park. Trainers loved working with Corky, as she was easy to train and got on well with most humans and whales. Unfortunately, not everything was sunshine and roses. Corky lost several calves, spinning her into a depression. In 1989, Kandu V charged Corky but injured herself in the process.
News of Corky would travel far and wide, beginning an ongoing campaign to free her. Folk songs would be written, and, most impressively, a miles-long banner would be created by children the world over. This patchwork art piece sees each child or class decorating a section about freeing Corky. But a question remains at the center of it all: can Corky be reintegrated into her natural habitat after so long in human-made dwellings? Would an attempt to bring her home result in a situation similar to Keiko (the orca from Free Willy)?

“…the oldest whale in captivity and the one held for the longest amount of time.”
One of the most telling aspects of Corky is the absence of SeaWorld’s perspective. Though approached, the theme park company and its spokespeople declined to be part of the documentary. If the changes made to orca enclosures in the wake of Blackfish and the park’s new approach to interacting with the creatures are as good as claimed, what are they hiding? That answer may never come. It also gives the false impression of bias on Caruso’s part, though she did wish to spotlight the other side of the story. It is just that they wanted nothing to do with it.
What is on screen is quite good. Some of the interviews feel overlong or as if they are repeating what has been said before. Still, the film runs a swift 95 minutes, so there’s not that much that needs to be trimmed.
More important is how the filmmaker uses Corky’s story to discuss humans’ relationship with nature and animals. Corky may tell of the fascinating life of the titular killer whale, but it is really about how humans have never honestly tried to understand the animals that share this planet. The ocean rehabilitation homes are an excellent start, but they are just that: a start. Why did people believe they had the right to rip creatures like Corky from their homes and families? No answers are given if any exist, but they are explored beautifully. Holly Marie Combs provides the narration and her emotional delivery carries a lot of weight.
The cinematography throughout is breathtaking. The ocean’s waters look inviting and calming. The sequence of a wild pod of orcas (Corky’s family) rubbing themselves along a shallow bank of shells and stones underwater is visually dazzling. The flyover of OrcaLab highlights ways in which humans can be within nature without intruding.
Corky could use a minor re-editing so information doesn’t feel like it is being repeated over and over. However, given that this is Caruso and Makowski’s first foray into documentary filmmaking, this is a win. The story of Corky is fascinating and exhaustively plumbed. The cinematography and narration paint a vivid and stunning picture of the toll of keeping orcas locked away.
Corky screened at the 2024 Seattle Film Festival.