Film Review: The Revenant

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't excited to see The Revenant. The film seemed to have all the bases covered: high critical acclaim, an excellent crew and cast, and an engrossing historical setting to boot. Unfortunately, all the above only served to make The Revenant all the more disappointing by the time the credits began to roll.

Without giving too much of the plot away, The Revenant tells the story of a fur trapper's battle to survive and to exact revenge upon the trapper who left him for dead (among other trespasses). It is a simple story, sure enough, but sometimes the simplest stories can be most powerful, a thought which most likely crossed director Alejandro Gonzalez Iñárritu's mind at some point. The Revenant attempts to create and transmit a powerful story by conveying the sheer suffering which the aforesaid fur trapper, Hugh Glass (played by Leonardo DiCaprio), endures in his quest for survival and revenge.

Unfortunately for The Revenant, Glass' suffering is conveyed in such an extreme way that it ceases to be relatable, and even borders on the realm of comedy at times. At one point, for example, after battling through wild animal attacks, broken bones, and the freezing cold, Glass is chased off a cliff by a war party of Arikara Native Americans, and hits a large tree on the way down. I admit I had to stifle a giggle at that moment, and I was certainly not the only member of the audience to do so. During that moment, Glass ceased to be a suffering hero and started to become just a guy who can't catch a break. For the most part though, his suffering isn't touching, it's just exhausting.

Stunning Views: Sadly one of the film's best features.

The Revenant isn't all bad though. Shortly after leaving the cinema, I noticed a bus pass by with an advert for the film plastered on its side, bearing numerous groupings of four and five stars. One of the latter was attributed to Empire Magazine, with the excuse that The Revenant instilled 'an astonishing sensory experience' in viewers. If the capacity to engender such an experience was the only assessment criterion for a film, then Empire's five stars may well be justified. The early 19th century wilderness is painted beautifully by Emmanuel Lubezki's cinematography, from its stunning vistas to its hellish conditions. In fact, 'Best Cinematography' is one of the few Oscar categories which The Revenant ought to stand a chance of winning, rather than the smorgasbord of nominations it has received. The music and soundtrack are also quite impressive.

 

Sadly, the astonishing sensory experience instilled by The Revenant's cinematography does not extend to its direction or acting. You can't fault the actors too much for that though, they simply were not given enough material to tell a compelling story. It would be remiss to say the film does not have its moments. A particularly touching one, where Glass shares a chuckle with a Pawnee Native American he meets along his journey through the wilderness, is so touching because of the brief respite it offers from the odyssey of suffering that is the rest of the film. However, films that are complimented on distinct moments are often so because they fail to sustain a continuous sense of momentousness. It's usually fine for a romantic comedy, but with a film like The Revenant, that seems to want to convey such a sense, it makes its shortcomings all the more apparent.