My Garden of a Thousand Bees: A Joyous Film on the Unbearable Lightness of Bee-ing
This gasp-inducing documentary showcases a man buzzing over the remarkable insects that bumble around his garden, ultimately transforming his life. Martin Dohrn, a veteran wildlife photographer, has a profound affection for bees—big bees, small bees, angry bees, randy bees, and those with voluminous ruffs and calves reminiscent of tiny Henry VIIIs. Rare is the bee that Dohrn does not deem worthy of deep appreciation or something even more profound.
A Personal Connection in an Urban Oasis
"It's hard to explain," says Dohrn, peering through his red-framed glasses at his gadget-strewn kitchen table. "But I really feel for bees. They're really ... I mean, I could say they're my friends." If My Garden of a Thousand Bees has a central theme beyond bees, it is that companionship can flourish in the most unlikely places. In this instance, that place is a small patch of urban Bristol, where during the spring and summer of 2020, Dohrn directed his expertly modified bumble-cams at over 60 species of bees frequenting his back garden.
Viewers are introduced to a diverse cast, including the wool carder bee with its bald back and ferocious aerial combat skills, the ashy mining bee with its exhausted waddle and washed-out pelt, and the red-tailed mason bee, which constructs its nest in an empty snail shell topped with a hipsterish dried-grass wigwam. The film captures these bees bumbling through the hazy Bristol sunshine while Dohrn, face scrunched up as he watches through a state-of-the-art magnifying lens, exclaims with wonder.
Bee City: A Microcosm of Life
Dohrn describes bees as living in "a completely different dimension," leading to a "time-stretching" film-making approach that results in breathtaking detail and a soundtrack blending a bustling heliport with distant conversations between drunken lawnmowers. The documentary itself mirrors a bee's leisurely drift, woozily exploring the garden and gathering facts like pollen stored in pouches. However, it avoids heavy statistics, focusing instead on a loose narrative with shrugs and ellipses, such as the brief mention: "All over the world, bees are declining."
In response to a shortage of suitable accommodation, Dohrn creates Bee City, a remarkable "multicultural" metropolis assembled from wildflowers and bits of wood. This microcosm features starter homes, perfumed A-roads where teenage bees wrestle, and tower blocks occupied by scissor bees, offering a whimsical yet poignant look at bee life with an underlying message: "Let's not cock it up entirely, eh?"
The Emotional Journey with Nicky the Leafcutter Bee
A highlight is Dohrn's bond with an industrious leafcutter bee named Nicky. Smitten, he leans close to her nest, his nose filling the screen like a nostrilly Jupiter, and wonders if she recognizes him. "Scientists have shown that honeybees can recognise individual people, so why wouldn't she?" he muses. This connection deepens as Nicky builds four nests in quick succession before, exhausted, she flies off into the heavens in the dying days of summer.
"I had no idea I was going to get so involved," Dohrn reflects, peering disconsolately into her deserted apartment. His lockdown project has "changed my view of bees" and, with a wistful smile, "changed my view of the world." My Garden of a Thousand Bees aired on BBC Four and is available on iPlayer, offering a joyous and transformative exploration of urban bee life.
