Honestly, the first time I heard about a guy falling in love with a mollusk in a kelp forest, I rolled my eyes. It sounded like the kind of high-brow, pretentious nature documentary that wins awards but puts actual humans to sleep. I was wrong. If you haven't taken the time to watch My Octopus Teacher, you're missing out on more than just a Netflix Oscar-winner; you're missing a weirdly profound masterclass on how to be a person again.
Craig Foster was a burnt-out filmmaker. He was done. His nerves were shot, he couldn't connect with his family, and he felt like he was drifting through his own life as a ghost. So, he went back to the ocean. Not just the ocean—the Great African Seaforest off the coast of South Africa. Cold water. No wetsuit. Just him and the kelp.
The Moment Everything Changed
One day, he sees this pile of shells moving. It's weird. It’s an octopus, but it’s camouflaged under a chaotic heap of debris to hide from predators. Most people would just swim past. Craig didn't. He kept coming back, day after day, for a year. That’s the core of the film. It isn't just a nature show; it's a 365-day commitment to a creature that only lives for about a year anyway.
The octopus isn't just a "pet" or a subject. She’s an engineer. She maps her environment with terrifying precision. When you watch My Octopus Teacher, pay attention to the scene where she gets hunted by a pajama shark. It’s brutal. She loses an arm. You expect the movie to turn into a tragedy right there, but then something happens that feels like science fiction: she just grows it back. A tiny, pale, doll-like arm starts sprouting. It’s a lesson in resilience that’s so on-the-nose it almost feels scripted, yet it's entirely real.
Why This Isn't Your Standard David Attenborough Fair
We’re used to the "Voice of God" narration. You know the one—booming, authoritative, detached. This isn't that. This is intimate. It's almost uncomfortably personal. Craig Foster narrates his own vulnerability. He talks about how he started dreaming like an octopus. He started thinking about the pressure of the water and the taste of the kelp.
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Is it a bit much? Maybe. Some critics, like those at The Guardian, pointed out the slightly "male-centric" gaze of the film, questioning if it’s okay to project so much human emotion onto a wild animal. It’s a fair point. We have a habit of anthropomorphizing everything. But does that take away from the emotional weight? Not really. The connection he feels is what brings him back to his son, Tom. By learning to care about this short-lived, eight-armed alien, he learns how to be a father again.
Technical Brilliance Under the Surface
If you’re a gear-head or a cinematography nerd, there’s a lot to dig into here. Roger Horrocks, the primary cinematographer, used incredible macro lenses to capture the texture of the octopus’s skin. It’s not just "brown" or "bumpy." It’s a shifting mosaic of cells called chromatophores.
- The Gear: They didn't use heavy scuba tanks. Why? Bubbles.
- The Reason: Octopuses are sensitive to vibrations and noise. By free-diving (holding his breath), Craig became a part of the environment rather than an intruder.
- The Result: Some of the most stable, intimate underwater footage ever captured without a massive production budget.
The water temperature in the Atlantic around Cape Town is freezing. We're talking 8 to 12 degrees Celsius. Most of us would last five minutes before our hearts started doing weird things. Craig stayed in for hours. That physical suffering—the literal numbing of his skin—seemed to be the only thing that could quiet his mind. It’s a form of "cold water therapy" before it became a trendy TikTok wellness hack.
The Pajama Shark: A Necessary Villain?
The shark scenes are the hardest to sit through. There’s a moment where the octopus is literally riding on the back of a shark to avoid its jaws. It’s genius. It’s tactical. But as a viewer, you’re screaming at the screen for Craig to help her.
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He doesn't.
This is where the ethics of nature filmmaking get messy. If he intervenes, he breaks the cycle. If he doesn't, his "friend" dies. He chooses to stay a witness. That’s a heavy burden to carry, and the film doesn't shy away from how much that hurt him. It forces you to realize that nature isn't "kind." It’s balanced. There is a massive difference between the two.
What Most People Miss About the Ending
People cry at the end. Obviously. But the real takeaway isn't just the death of the octopus. It's the "Octopus Wild Trust" that came after. This film didn't just exist in a vacuum; it sparked a massive movement to protect the Great African Seaforest.
It turns out that these kelp forests are just as important as the Amazon for carbon sequestration. We talk about trees all the time, but the "trees" underwater are doing the heavy lifting while we aren't looking. When you watch My Octopus Teacher, you’re actually looking at a massive, submerged lung that helps the planet breathe.
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Common Misconceptions
- Is it a romance? No. Stop it. It’s a deep, platonic, inter-species bond. It’s about curiosity.
- Is it staged? Some people think the octopus "acted." Octopuses are smart, but they don't take direction. The footage took years to compile to get those specific "narrative" beats.
- Is it just for kids? It’s rated TV-G, but the themes of depression, burnout, and the cycle of life are pretty heavy. Keep the tissues handy.
The Actionable Takeaway
You don't have to fly to South Africa and jump into freezing water to get what Craig Foster got. The "Octopus Teacher" isn't a specific animal; it's the practice of deep observation.
Most of us spend our lives skimming the surface. We look at our phones, we look at our to-do lists, we look at the clock. We rarely look at one thing for a long time.
Next Steps for the Viewer:
- Find your "Patch": Craig had his kelp forest. Find a park, a backyard, or even a window box. Observe it every day. Note the changes.
- Practice Presence: Next time you're outside, leave the headphones out. Listen to the environment. It sounds "woo-woo," but the neurological benefits of being "in" nature (not just passing through it) are backed by researchers like Dr. Qing Li, an expert in forest bathing.
- Support Marine Conservation: Look into the Sea Change Project. It’s the organization Craig co-founded. They work to protect the very environment shown in the film.
- Re-evaluate Burnout: If you're feeling fried, maybe the answer isn't "more sleep." Maybe the answer is a radical change in perspective.
The film ends, but the shift in how you see the world should be permanent. You aren't separate from nature. You aren't a visitor on Earth. You're a part of the whole messy, beautiful, predatory, and regenerating system. That’s the real lesson. Go watch it. Then go outside and find your own teacher.