The Revenant (2015)

The Revenant (R)

A man on a trapping expedition, mauled by a bear and wronged by his companions, crawls his way back to civilization and survival by sheer will and the lust for revenge in director Alejandro Inarratu's followup to 2014's Best Picture "Birdman (The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance)".

Based very loosely on the widely told tale of professional trail scout Hugh Glass (played with baby face and big bearded Leonardo DiCaprio (Wolf of Wall Street)), a man so wronged even his own exposed ribs nor 200 miles full of blood thirsty natives will keep him from his vengeance.  Leo plays him as the quiet type, surrounded by the vast blanketed mountains or picking his way through the tree studded fields he doesn't say much (having one's throat shredded by a momma grizzly may have helped).  When asked why he fled civilized parts of the world, Leo's Glass mutters something about "Liking it where it's quiet".  These are his best moments, but DiCaprio cannot so easily shed his Mega-star image and face beneath a bearhide and buckskins, and too often (despite his truly best efforts and solid acting ability), we are forced to admit that no, Leo does not resemble a wild Mountain-man of the frontier age, a man so hardy and full of spirit that he could survive the cold and wounds and misfortune.  He looks, much as he did in The Aviator, like Leo DiCaprio.

Tom Hardy (Bronson), on the other hand, once again completely transforms himself for a role.  As Glass' trapping partner Fitzgerald he is bitter, racist, self-serving and sports a plotting, devious mind.  His country Texas twang feels great, every time the film gives him something to do he is riveting and completely steals the show from DiCaprio, there is a self confidence present that stands it's ground as an authentic Western ideology.  Perhaps he wasn't as electric as Mad Max since he could not truly make the role singularly his own, but in Revenant he fits into Fitzgerald perfectly and is fantastic antagonist.

It is only too bad the film strays from what makes it good so often.  The cinema, the wide open wild places look terrific while at the same time the CGI wild animals populating it detract.  The long takes, now famous from these filmmakers, feel more constructed and sewn together with twine when done in nature than the smooth seamless backstage views.  The compositing is distracting, mostly during the action sequences, there is a reliance on technology way out there in wilds of nature that simply clashes with the aesthetic being sold to us.  As is some of the audio design, for instance the Natives all are dubbed strangely and out of sync, the words literally put into their mouths in post.  More power to Inarratu for braving the forces of nature to capture this stuff with natural light and freezing actors and crew, but if Dances with Wolves had just had a herd of CGI buffalo that too would have stuck out like a sore thumb too.  However there are shots here of such sublime beauty as to be in a Terrance Mallick film (in fact much can be seen as homage to T.M.), but unfortunately many do not help along the blood thirsty narrative.  A man done so wrong would not sleep so placidly or have such a spiritual dream journey.  And, like the many Hollywood epics before it, the script of the Revenant takes an amazing true life story of determination and grit and gussies it up with more drama for modern audiences, rehashing a classic trend that itself should be mauled and buried.  A man did do this, crawled that great long way, survive a bear attack and had maggots eat his gangrenous flesh, there is no need to gussy it up and "humanize" it more.  Revenge does not only come from blood, motivation not just from love and close ups of eye's leaking, the real story of Glass was already about how strong and hardy a human being could be, and diluting it with modern cinematic tricks really wounds it to the quick.

Much like its protagonist Glass, Revenant is ritualistically real.  The snow, dirt and blood and environments is under his feet and nails and stains his clothes (costume).  And yet mixed in equal parts is fabrication, with an empty spirituality, preachy modern morality and technological shortcuts.  Where it gets it right, the opening Bear horror, the closing showdown with the fantastic Hardy, the rest is a barren cold wasteland of misspent ideals.  All in a film just as lengthy as Hateful Eight yet without the constant, cartoonishly fired from the hip Western-fried delights.  Greatness lurks beneath a thick ground fog of modern necessity, and instead of a tall tale we get a long one.

By the end, worn out by tiresome long camera takes, you stumble out of the theater on benumbed legs like a snow blind trapper with nothing to show for your journey except a deep yearning for hearth and home.

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