ward_s

Some time back I saw film of an unfolding maritime disaster. A huge freighter loaded down with some mineral ore had miscalculated its approach to the pier and though it was only moving a few feet per minute its unimaginable momentum was sufficient to utterly destroy the pier and other infrastructure. It crept slowly forward, an irresistible force meeting the immovable shoreline. That image came back to me as I finished this film. It moves slowly, resolutely forward, quietly gathering momentum, until it plows to its conclusion in a dark, horrifyingly violent collision.

It's a simple story. Members of a clan of primitives have taken a handful of frontier citizens and the lawman leads a ragged posse to go rescue them. Once they reach the camp of the primitives, as one would expect, there is much killing.

But it is not a simple film.

It is distinguished by its pace and its characters. It starts its journey in familiar territory, a small western town with a rough- hewn lawman (Kurt Russell). There is a killing, a stable boy is eviscerated, and a couple of townsfolk are abducted. The lawman and the townsfolk consider their options. To paraphrase Donald Rumsfeld, you go with the posse you've got, not the posse you wish you had. The lawman and three others set out to do what needs doing. Though, it is a long trip, the film uses this time to its quiet gain, slowly bringing the characters to life and also slowly grinding them down with its sun-scorched terrain and relentless bad luck. These characters are worth getting to know, but some may be tempted to whine from the back seat, "Are we there yet?" Trust me, we will get there in time.

This is no simple character study, however. The marvelous characters draw you in to their lives and you'd be forgiven for feeling affection for them. The posse slogs inexorably forward.

To count up the minutes, there is actually not a lot of violence, but what violence there is is brutal, horrible. It is not splashy Tarantino violence; it reminded me more of John Hillcoat's film, The Proposition. It is dark, gruesome, vividly real. It spills viscera. Bodies drop leadenly. There are no gymnastic escapes. When flesh is torn, you hear it. But what really sets it apart is that after the long trek to get there, you feel you have friends in the fight. The violence feels as close as the pounding in your own chest.

Though there is obviously conflict in the fabric of this film (Alicia arrives at her Uncle's home having fled the burning of her home and the murders of her family), the film is not about those conflicts, and if you enter this film expecting confrontations and resolutions you will be disappointed. The film is about more even than Alicia's reaction to conflict; it is not just a portrait of PTSD, though that is certainly in there as well. It is about the journey through life in a world of mystery and peril. Even nature herself seems quietly malevolent, a participant in the turmoil that boils beneath the surface. Tufts of weeds move about autonomously, as if participating in the smuggling of arms among the factions of humans who do battle just out of sight. It is about the abandonment of hope and wisdom under the weight of the soggy fabric of reality. Alicia buries candles in the muddy banks of the river when she sleepwalks at night.

In the end, it would be easy to get distracted by questions about who killed whom (though the clues are there if you are interested), but from Alicia's point of view that is a meaningless pursuit. The only distinction between the two sides is the color of the armbands, and she didn't even notice which armband army killed her family. She just knows deaths happened, home was incinerated, and it's time to move on.

This film is very carefully crafted and it is much more of a poem than a novel. It has been several days since I viewed it, and I could not have written about it on the first day. It needs time beyond the time it takes to watch it, and if you give it that time it will reward you richly. It seems to me that the negative reviews share a tone of impatience, a need for the film to tell all, answer all the questions, move from point A to point B in a clear line. If that is your taste, there are many fine films that do that, but this is not one of them. I once took a friend to see Taxi Driver, and he was upset because he was expecting a film adaptation of the sitcom Taxi. His expectations and disappointment had no bearing on the quality of the film that we actually did see, a masterpiece in every way. Same lesson applies here: don't go in expecting it to be something it is not. If you do, you will totally miss this poetic masterpiece.