No one makes stranger documentaries than Errol Morris. This man has brought us face to face with distraught pet owners at pet cemeteries and put us in touch with a man who strives to make humane execution devices. This time Morris weaves the life stories of four dreamers who live outside of the mainstream: a lion tamer, a topiary gardener, a mole-rat specialist, and a robot scientist.

The film's title comes from robot scientist Rodney Brooks' statement that we should send hundreds of robots into space—fast, cheap, and out-of-control robots to land on Mars and see what they could find. It makes sense to me, but perhaps we are all operating on the premise that someone left all us weirdos on planet Earth to see what we could discover. Errol Morris is merely reminding us of possibility with this 1997 documentary.

Hoover wanted to be an animal trainer since his boyhood days watching Clyde Beatty's Darkest Africa serials, which Morris uses effectively here as introductions and transitions. It's pretty hokey, but it reminds me of the stuff that my own dreams were made of at an early age, so it works for me. A priest hired by Hoover's parents to try to talk him out of becoming a lion tamer finds out about Hoover's dream and lets his parents know that someone has to tame lions.

We find that Hoover actually befriended Clyde Beatty, adopted him as his mentor, and worked with his circus for many years. There's some excellent footage of Hoover at work inside the cage and some illuminating information that we'd never know without Morris’ documentary—like how to avoid being scarfed by a lion. (There's a reason for using chairs to ward off lions; Hoover explains that the big cats are very focussed, so the four legs of a chair confuse them—“They don't know where to look, and they lose their train of thought.”)

Much less harmful are the animals that George Mendonca works with. He’s a topiary gardener—the guys who turn shrubbery into giraffes, elephants, and other wild animals. He also loves what he does, explaining why he works with hand tools instead of the electric ones that might chop off a limb. It takes a while to correct any gardening mistakes, as it does when Mother Nature goes on a rampage and destroys his work. Mendonca waxes philosophically poetic about such occurrences, and Morris’ camera catches the man focussed on his work during a rainstorm near the end of the film.

Then there's the obvious enthusiasm that mole-rat specialist Ray Mendez has for his work. The guy speaks ecstatically about finding this mammal that defies all expectations of mammals—mole-rats are hairless and essentially cold blooded because they live in climate-controlled environments. It's like the man had gone to heaven when he was able to go to film them in their native African habitat and later design a whole habitat for them at the Philadelphia Zoo. I could feel Mendez's excitement as he describes the "luxury resort" he made for his precious mole-rats; he made a large "suite" at the end of the tunnel for their nest, only to discover that mole-rats use the end compartments for their restrooms.

While Morris blends these stories together visually, often cutting back and forth artistically, I was trying to see how robot scientist Rodney Brooks fit in with the whole film. Of course, there is his marvelous quote that gives the film its name and can be seen as a thematic thread, but his robots also fit loosely with the animal metaphors of the other three, since many of his robots act and look like six legged insects. Who would have thought that a robot scientist would be such a fascinating interview subject? This man's creations are truly unique and out of control—he doesn't even know what they'll do.

That may well describe the films of Errol Morris: The man is so autonomous that we never know what he’ll do. One time he's documenting wacky weirdoes, while other times he may do a thorough investigation of a murder in the Texas prison system.

His first film (on pet cemeteries) demonstrated that Errol Morris knows how to choose interesting people and subjects to film. Fast, Cheap and Out of Control demonstrates that he continues to find fascinating subject matter outside the mainstream, but he can put together an even better film with financial backing. I'll continue to look forward to any projects Morris does, since he's like one of Brooks' robots—out of control but doing what is in his nature.