Last year I was really surprised with the latest film of Niclas Winding Refn, Valhalla Rising, mainly because of how he was able to generate such a grand-scope epic with as minuscule a budget as he must've had. His production consisted basically of taking a group of actors, props and costumes into some stunning locations and start filming, just trying to capture the magnificence of those landscapes the best way they could. The result was somewhat awe-inspiring, a film that created some visions so epic that it made Peter Jackson's The Lord Of The Rings look tiny and unimportant in comparison, almost like they had reversed budgets. in many ways, Meek's Cutoff does just that, although in turn it delivers a much, much better film as well.
The film is set during the travels through the Oregon Trail in 1845, where three families led by a contractual guide Stephen Meek get lost in the desert. Meek keeps saying they'll be there soon, but the route he promised took no more than two weeks to get through has already lasted for five, and they seemed nowhere close to the mountain pass they were aiming for. As he becomes more and more unreliable, and water starts running out, they come across a native, who they capture and want to force to have him lead them to water.
There are a couple of reasons why this reminds me of not only Valhalla Rising, but also Werner Herzog's Aguirre: The Wrath Of God before it. The most obvious connection between these films is that they all treat that notion of a group of people foreign to a particular land begin a journey through it and quickly lose their way, so much of the film we spend seeing them drift aimlessly through these landscapes, becoming more desperate about the growing shortage of food and water. Then, as I mentioned earlier, there's also the matter of the production scheme - Herzog did something similar when he made up these rafts and dressed a troupe of actors as conquistadores and went ahead and started telling his story. In the case of Meek's Cutoff, what we see throughout the entire film are a group of people, oxen and horses carrying a couple of wagons with them across some superbly shot arid landscapes, with the story needing only that to flesh out, but it is all so incredibly captured, so nicely treated from the sound and the atmosphere, that one can't help but be engulfed by what he's watching.
Much like Herzog and Winding Refn, though, what also makes this film work is that there is a constant sense of a metaphysical element working in the background. It is not just merely that these natural terrains hold an ancient charm to them, in a sense that you can almost imagine the world's history just by looking at them, but because all of these locations are heavily tinged by the native culture and beliefs, by their rituals and their own codes and languages. All throughout this journey, within each location one can notice several paintings on the rocks, carvings, and signs such as rocks piled up in an almost totemic fashion. This all becomes more apparent when the native character appears in the scene, and thus the protagonists are also forced to live with the culture and beliefs of this individual without being able to communicate with each other. There's an absolutely magnificent moment late in the film where a man falls down due to dehydration, and the native beings to spray sand on him and sing and everyone around him just looks. It's a sequence that reminded me a lot to that shot in Aguirre: The Wrath Of God where Aguirre is standing beside a man playing a traditional Andean melody on a panflute.
It's an absolutely wonderful film and I urge everyone to see it, a stunning meditation on the idea of the foreigner invading a land and culture he does not truly understand. The ending left me chills running down my spine.
