In this episode of Stuff You Should Know, the hosts explore the production of "Roar," a film about human coexistence with big cats created by Tippi Hedren and Noel Marshall in the 1970s. Inspired by an encounter with lions at an abandoned home in Mozambique, the couple raised wild animals at their California ranch to prepare for filming, including a 400-pound lion that lived in their house alongside Hedren's teenage daughter, Melanie Griffith.
The episode details the chaotic five-year production that resulted in 70 cast and crew injuries, including Griffith's near-blinding and a cinematographer requiring 220 stitches. With untrained animals, inexperienced filmmakers, and disasters including floods and fires, the $17 million budget produced a film that failed to secure U.S. distribution and grossed only $2 million worldwide. Despite its commercial failure, the legacy lives on through the Shambala Preserve and a 2015 re-release that reframed "Roar" as a cult curiosity.

Sign up for Shortform to access the whole episode summary along with additional materials like counterarguments and context.
In 1969, while filming in Zimbabwe, Tippi Hedren and her husband Noel Marshall visited a game preserve in Mozambique where they encountered an abandoned home inhabited by 30 lions. This extraordinary sight, combined with their guide's explanations about poaching concerns, inspired them to create a film exploring human coexistence with big cats. Marshall's passion for animals dated back to his teenage years volunteering at the St. Louis Zoo, and he soon inspired Hedren to embrace animal advocacy herself.
Their vision aligned with the popular fascination with wildlife in American media during the late 1960s and 1970s, including series like "Daktari" and "Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom." When they presented their film idea to professional animal trainers, they were warned it would be impractical and dangerous unless the animals were raised and socialized with humans from a young age.
Undeterred, Hedren and Marshall began preparing by raising wild animals at home, starting with a lion cub named Neil in their Sherman Oaks house. Neil eventually grew to 400 pounds and became a household fixture, even sleeping in beds with the family, including Hedren's teenage daughter Melanie Griffith. After local authorities ordered them to remove Neil about a year after a 1971 Life magazine spread, they purchased acreage in Acton and built a ranch designed for the film. Their collection expanded to include lions, tigers, leopards, panthers, cougars, and various other animals, creating a diverse family of animal actors socialized together.
With no screenwriting background, Noel Marshall wrote the script himself with only loose ideas. Raising money proved challenging given the lack of a coherent script and evident dangers. Marshall assumed the roles of writer, director, and lead actor, creating an unbalanced power dynamic without the usual checks and balances.
Melanie Griffith initially refused to participate, reportedly saying she didn't want to "come out of here with half a face," but was later persuaded to return, prompting expensive reshoots. Marshall was described as having a volatile temper, and accounts recall that Griffith was sometimes ignored even when invoking her designated safe word during frightening moments.
The film relied on untrained big cats that wouldn't follow commands, forcing the crew to keep six, seven, or eight cameras rolling simultaneously—burning through enormous amounts of expensive film stock. Filming often paused while everyone waited for animals to do something interesting. When unexpected events occurred, like an elephant destroying a boat, filmmakers reverse-engineered the story to incorporate these moments. The production stretched over five years, employing around 140 crew members, many of whom cycled off quickly due to unsafe conditions.
The lack of training and safety led to numerous injuries. Cinematographer Jan de Bont required 220 stitches after a lion attack, while Melanie Griffith needed 50 stitches and reconstructive surgery after being clawed near her eye. In total, 70 cast and crew members were injured, with some suffering gangrene requiring skin grafts and two losing fingers. These incidents have been attributed to poor animal handling and Marshall's anger issues, including his tendency to ignore basic safety protocols.
A 1978 flash flood destroyed set fencing, allowing several big cats to escape—deputies reportedly shot three lions. The flood also wiped away vegetation, requiring lengthy replanting before filming could resume. As filming neared completion, a wildfire threatened the set, and disease sometimes swept through the captive animals, resulting in deaths.
The chaotic production consumed $17 million—comparable to "Raiders of the Lost Ark"—with much spent waiting for usable animal behavior and operating numerous cameras while nothing usable occurred. The film's non-union status and mismanagement repelled experienced professionals, and ultimately "Roar" failed to find a U.S. release or recoup its costs.
Distributors rejected the film for US release, citing its poor quality. Although its notorious reputation could have appealed to cult audiences, the film's quality was so lacking it never secured even a limited US rollout.
The film lacked a coherent genre, at times resembling home movies, sometimes played for comedy, other times for horror. The musical score jumped between comedic and horror motifs, creating a disjointed experience. Critic Richard Brody from The New Yorker observed that the director was unaware of the forms he was trying to use.
The intended message was that treating wild animals with kindness would lead to mutual friendliness. However, this was repeatedly contradicted as characters who showed kindness were violently attacked, undermining any intended moral.
After being rebuffed in the US, the film found limited release in the UK and Ireland. It grossed only $2 million worldwide against its $17 million budget, resulting in a $15 million loss. Once the brief theatrical window closed, it vanished from public view with no home video, TV, or streaming deals. A brief revival through Alamo Drafthouse in 2015 generated only fleeting buzz, but the movie remains almost impossible to access.
Although the film lost money, Hedren and Marshall continued their commitment by converting their compound into the Shambala Preserve, which became headquarters for the Roar Foundation. The foundation operates through donations, legislative advocacy, and providing a home for rescued big cats. Even after their divorce, Marshall continued supporting the preserve, showing enduring dedication to their original mission. The Roar Foundation persists in raising funds and lobbying for animal welfare legislation, transforming the film's legacy from entertainment to conservation.
The film's cultural reputation was rekindled in 2015 when Alamo Drafthouse re-released "Roar" with the tagline "the most dangerous film ever made." This marketing positioned it as a historical oddity, turning it into a cult fascination reminiscent of event-style screenings for films like "The Room." Critics drew comparisons to "Swiss Family Robinson," with Under the Radar dubbing it the "Citizen Kane of films where actors were mauled by lions." This renewed visibility inspired Animal Planet's 2017 documentary "Roar: The Most Dangerous Movie Ever Made." However, Hedren was reportedly displeased with how the re-release portrayed the project, with the Roar Foundation requesting she refrain from commenting publicly about the Drafthouse framing.
1-Page Summary
In 1969, while filming "Satan's Harvest" in Zimbabwe, Tippi Hedren and her husband Noel Marshall visited a game preserve in Mozambique. During their travels, they encountered an abandoned home inhabited by a pride of 30 lions, freely moving in and out of the house. This extraordinary sight inspired them with the concept of exploring human coexistence with big cats on film. Their guide further heightened their awareness by explaining the urgent concerns around poaching, which fueled their desire to use the medium of cinema to foster public understanding and advocacy for wild animals.
Noel Marshall's passion for animals began much earlier, stemming from his teenage volunteering years at the St. Louis Zoo. When he met Tippi Hedren, she was already active in social justice causes but had not yet directed her activism toward animal welfare. Marshall’s interests soon inspired Hedren to embrace animal advocacy herself.
Their creative spark was also influenced by the popular fascination with wildlife in American media during the late 1960s and 1970s. Television series like "Daktari"—itself spun off from the movie "Clarence the Cross-Eyed Lion"—as well as "Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom" stoked public curiosity about African adventures and animals. Riding that cultural wave, Hedren and Marshall returned to Hollywood determined to create an ambitious film centered on big cats. When they presented their idea to professional animal trainers, they were cautioned that such a project would be impractical and extremely dangerous, unless the animals were raised together and socialized from a young age with humans.
Undeterred, Hedren and Marshall began preparing for their film by raising wild animals at home. They started with a lion cub named Neil, bringing him to live with their family in their Spanish-style house in Sherman Oaks, California. Neil, who would grow to 400 pounds with a full mane, became a fixture in the household, sleeping in beds—including occasionally with Hedren’s teenage daughter, Melanie Griffith—and lounging by the family pool. Photographs from this period, including an iconic Life magazine spread in 1971, captured scenes of this unusual domesticity, but also attracted the scrutiny of local authorities.
About a year after the Life magazine feature, the city intervened and ordered the family to remove the lion from their home. By then, the Marshalls had already begun collecting more lions and other animals for their film project. Instead of abandoning their dream, they purchased acreage in Acton, north of Los Angeles in Soledad Canyon, and built a ranch specifically designed for the eventual movie. They landscaped the property to resemble southern Africa, installed an artificial pond, and soon moved in full time. Their collection of animals expanded to include not just lions, but also tigers, leopards, panthers, cougars, flamingos, ostriches, storks, swans, sheep, and even an elephant. Some animals, like Siberian tigers, were not authentically African, but the Marshalls incorporated them regardless, eager to build a diverse family of animal actors socialized together from a young age.
With no proper screenwriting background, Noel Marshall set out to write the script himself, with only l ...
The Origins and Creative Inspiration Behind "Roar"
The making of "Roar" was marked by unpredictability, frequent disasters, and grave safety issues that led to spiraling costs and a dangerous environment for everyone involved.
The film relied heavily on untrained big cats, making traditional directing impossible. The animals would not follow commands, so instead of orchestrating scenes, the crew simply had to keep cameras rolling, often with six, seven, or even eight cameras at a time—an unusual approach for the era. This method burned through enormous amounts of expensive film stock, as digital video was not available.
Filming would often pause for prolonged periods while the cast and crew waited for the animals to do something interesting. When noteworthy events occurred, such as an elephant unexpectedly destroying a boat, the filmmakers reverse-engineered the story to fit these moments, integrating unplanned destruction as key plot points. The entire production stretched over five years, employing around 140 crew members—many of whom cycled off the project quickly due to the unsafe and unprofessional atmosphere.
The lack of animal training and safety led to numerous injuries on set. Cinematographer Jan de Bont suffered a severe scalp laceration from a lion attack, requiring 220 stitches but ultimately continuing to work on the film. Melanie Griffith was clawed near her eye, needing 50 stitches and reconstructive surgery; the filmmakers incorporated her post-injury face into a scene in the film.
In total, 70 cast and crew members were injured during production. Some suffered severe bite wounds that resulted in cases of gangrene for both Tippi Hedren and Noel Marshall, necessitating skin grafts. Hedren also fractured her ankle after being thrown by Timbo the elephant. Two crew members lost fingers. The Alamo Drafthouse trailer for the film even highlights the major injuries each cast member sustained. These numerous incidents have been attributed to poor animal handling, ineffective safety protocols, and, in particular, Noel Marshall’s anger issues. Marshall sometimes ignored basic safety, even overruling his stepdaughter Melanie Griffith’s attempts to use a designated safe word to halt dangerous scenes.
Catastrophic events repeatedly sabotaged the film’s progress and inflated its budget. In 1978, a flash flood destroyed the set’s fencing, which allowed several big cats to escape; reportedly, deputies shot three lions, while others were eventually recovered. The flood also wiped away much of the set’s vegetation, requiring a lengthy repl ...
The Dangerous and Chaotic Production Process
The film, regarded as the "most dangerous film ever made," became infamous not just for its perilous production, but also for its catastrophic failure in both commercial and critical realms.
Distributors categorically rejected the film for US release, citing its poor quality as the primary reason. Although its reputation for risk and notoriety could have appealed to cult and B-movie audiences through sensationalized marketing, even that could not coax interest from distributors. The film was a non-union production, which added to distribution challenges, but ultimately, its quality was so lacking that it never secured even a limited US rollout.
A major flaw in the film was its lack of a coherent genre. At times, it resembled home movies; some scenes were played for broad comedy, others for genuine horror. The musical score further confused the tone, jumping between comedic and horror motifs and creating a rudderless viewing experience. Tippi Hedren, involved in the project, indicated that some elements were inspired by old slapstick silent comedies. Critics, like Richard Brody from The New Yorker, observed that the director was unaware of the forms he was trying to use, resulting in a disjointed and messy film.
The intended message centered on the idea that treating wild animals with kindness would lead to mutual friendliness. However, this message was repeatedly contradicted throughout the film, as characters who showed kindness were violently attacked by the animals. Despite its well-meaning premise, scenes of on-screen bloodshed undermined any intended moral, as highlighted by Richard Brody.
After being rebuffed in the US, the film found limited release in the UK and Ireland. This international engagement proved disastrous financially.
Despite its limited exposure, the film grossed only $2 million worldwide against a staggering $17 million budget, resulting in a loss of $ ...
The Film's Commercial and Critical Failure
One of the original intentions behind making "Roar" was to devote a significant portion of its proceeds to wild animal welfare. Although the film lost a substantial amount of money, Tippi Hedren and Noel Marshall continued their commitment by converting their compound into the Shambala Preserve. This sanctuary, often presented as a harmonious space for humans and big cats, became the headquarters for the Roar Foundation, which remains active today. The foundation operates through donations, legislative advocacy, and providing a home for rescued big cats—now reportedly down to nine, after other cats passed away from natural causes over time.
Hedren and Marshall’s vision went beyond filmmaking, focusing on the wellbeing of the animals even after their personal relationship ended. After their divorce, Marshall continued supporting the Shambala Preserve, showing an enduring dedication to their original mission. The Roar Foundation persists in raising funds and lobbying for animal welfare legislation, emphasizing genuine conservation in the wake of the film’s dramatic production and aftermath. Despite human injuries on set, their determination to promote coexistence between people and big cats shaped the preserve into a unique legacy of the project.
The film’s cultural reputation was rekindled in 2015 when Alamo Drafthouse strategically re-released "Roar." Their marketing approach positioned the film as a historical oddity with the tagline "the most dangerous film ever made" and the claim that "70 members of cast and crew were harmed." This angle turned it into a cult fascination, reminiscent of the event-style screenings for films like "The Room." Critics and film enthusiasts quickly embraced the movie, with outlets drawing comparisons between "Roar" and classics lik ...
The Film's Legacy and Lasting Impact
Download the Shortform Chrome extension for your browser
