As a lifelong animal lover and advocate for their protection, I found Joshua Zeman’s Checkpoint Zoo to be one of the most impactful documentaries I’ve watched in years. The film highlights the incredible efforts of Feldman Ecopark’s owner, staff, and volunteers to rescue nearly 5,000 animals trapped in Kharkiv, Ukraine, when the Russian invasion turned the city into a warzone. What could have been a tragic story of loss instead becomes a tribute to human bravery, compassion, and sacrifice amid chaos.
Feldman Ecopark was more than an ordinary zoo. It was a sanctuary where animals not only lived but also became therapy companions for children with special needs and soldiers with PTSD. When the bombs started falling, the animals suddenly found themselves caught between armies, entirely reliant on the bravery of the people who cared for them. Zeman depicts this impossible situation with honest clarity while also emphasizing the resilience and heart of those who refused to give up.
What impressed me most were the scenes showing the evacuation of larger, more distinctive animals—big cats, apes, and tapirs among them. Watching volunteers tranquilize massive predators, lift their heavy bodies into waiting transport, and keep moving despite the constant threat of shelling was unforgettable. Equally powerful was the quiet dedication of the park’s owner, who even opened his home to shelter animals—filling bedrooms, bathrooms, the pool, and the yard—because every life, no matter how small or inconvenient, was worth saving. These images go far beyond the usual war documentary; they serve as a reminder of what selflessness looks like in its purest form.
The human side of this story is equally remarkable. The staff and volunteers didn’t see the animals as mere exhibits—they were family, companions, and beings whose lives mattered. When it seemed impossible to continue, when food was limited and danger was everywhere, they looked outward and asked the world for help. And help arrived. Donations, supplies, and emotional support flooded in, giving them the strength to carry on when they felt all was lost. They refused to give up, even as exhaustion, grief, and fear threatened to break them. For these rescuers, saving the animals was a way of saving themselves, of holding onto hope amid despair.
If I have one critique, it is that the editing sometimes feels too rushed to move on. With a story so extraordinary, I wished for more time to absorb the emotion of certain moments—the look in a volunteer’s eyes after carrying a sedated tiger or the quiet relief of seeing a transport truck finally cross to safety. Giving those moments a little more space would have let the audience fully feel the weight of what was happening. Still, this is a minor point in an otherwise riveting and deeply moving film.
Checkpoint Zoo isn’t just about the heroism of saving thousands of animals, but also about the sobering reality that some of the brave people who made it possible never made it out alive. Human lives were lost in this extraordinary story, and that knowledge deepens the film’s impact. It reminds us that compassion often involves tremendous risk—and that in the midst of war, acts of kindness can cost everything. For me, this makes Zeman’s film not only nearly perfect but also unforgettable, a work that affirms the best of humanity when it would have been easier to give in to the worst.