Iñárritu wants to see how many torments he can put Glass through, a Passion of the Christ–style litany of abuse that, as it mounts, begins to seem like braggadocio.
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Iñárritu and Lubezki make a horror movie out of America’s beginnings-which, given what those beginnings did to people, is entirely appropriate.īut these are not the chief themes of The Revenant, which gestures toward the ruination of indigenous tribes, but is more concerned with Glass and his foe, Hardy’s John Fitzgerald. The Revenant is certainly one of the most visually striking movies of the year, its eerie beauty whispering with the same stark, primal dread as There Will Be Blood. Here, sometime around the 1820s, the wilderness is scary and elemental, dotted with haunted souls but otherwise howling with apocalyptic cold and emptiness. He and his wildly talented cinematographer, Emmanuel Lubezki, conjure up a more primordial West than we’re used to seeing in westerns, which tend to take place after the Civil War. These gorgeous, frigid hellscapes are the perfect setting for Iñárritu’s brand of artsy-male intensity, applying his somber worldview to scenes of exquisite danger and torment. Inevitably their paths cross, but the movie takes its not-at-all-sweet time in getting there. On and on the movie lurches, one harrowing set piece after another, alternating between Glass’s quest for vengeance and the journey his abandoners, played by Tom Hardy and Will Poulter, make to the relative safety of Fort Kiowa. It’s rough-going, as you might expect, as Glass is badly torn up by that bear (the mauling scene is terrifyingly credible) and is being pursued by angry Ree tribesmen who are searching for a stolen daughter. This is a long, grinding movie, bordering on miserablism at times, as Leonardo DiCaprio, scraggly and disheveled and near-constantly grunting as a fictionalized Glass, scrapes himself across the snowy wilderness to avenge his abandonment and the death of his son. It’s a hairy true story, one ripe for the über-masculine film treatment, which is exactly what director Alejandro González Iñárritu has given us in the grueling The Revenant, as much a survival story for the audience as it is for the hero. Or, if you’re tough and lucky, only almost kill you, which was the case for 18th- and 19th-century frontiersman Hugh Glass, whose most legendary exploit was surviving a brutal bear mauling ( just a mauling) and trekking, badly injured, some 200 miles to safety, all while hoping to get revenge on the men who left him for dead. It’s beautiful, but pretty much all of it will kill you. Particularly, the rugged American West, picturesque land of craggy mountains, sweeping vistas, formidable beasts.