An unmissable experience.

Rating: 8/10 (15 April 2018)

If "The Revenant" doesn't contribute in some way to revitalising the Western genre, it is likely nothing ever will. The film is a remarkable experience; an example of what happens when each and all of the various aspects of film-making - original soundtrack; cinematography; second unit direction; imagery, etc. - fuse together as effectively as perhaps they are able to in order to deliver something quite extraordinary.
"The Revenant" unfolds in a place inherently dreary, yet somehow beautiful at the same time; takes place in a setting absolutely deadly, yet possesses a strange tranquillity to it. Mostly every scene or sequence is bookended by a magnificent composition of a mountain or a skyline of trees which you sense might succeed as an award winning photograph all by itself. It takes place in a world drenched in war; hurt; pain; loss and cynical opportunism (you can practically feel the grief dripping off the screen as to watch it), and while it is entirely its own film, somehow manages to draw on the best from other works of its sort (which range from "Into the Wild" and "Apocalypto" to Terrence Malick) in order to supplement the experience it's delivering to you.
Primarily, Alejandro Iñárritu's film is about the bourgeoning conflict between two men which then erupts into a tale of revenge as one goes after the other in the wake of a murder. One of these men is Hugh Glass, played by Leonardo DiCaprio, who is guiding a troupe of (mostly) American fur-trappers to a fort through the barren winter wilderness of where the United States appears to meet Canada.
Glass, mistrusted by some of the crew as to having previously lived with the indigenous peoples of this terrain, and having previously apparently shot an allied soldier, is already grieving the death of his wife and the destruction of his village some years ago at the hands of the French Colonialists. His infant son, however, survived and now travels with him.
The simplicity of Glass' exercise is complicated by an ambush they suffer by a group of Native American Indians: an event which forces the trappers downstream and deeper into the hostile wilderness from which they entrust Glass can guide them. Not interested in seventy year old stereotypes, Iñárritu bothers to cut back to the Indians who reveal themselves to be searching for the kidnapped daughter of the enraged chief and are therefore allowed an extra dimension. We actually want them to find her.
"The Revenant" then completely changes gears when, inexplicably, it has its protagonist attacked by a grizzly bear to the extent that it very nearly kills him. What set out as a, and certainly would have been decades ago, somewhat standard adventure story of a lost group of people evading Indians and bandits (Mexicans; the French, etc.) through untamed North America ends up as something very different.
Space here is limited as to the extent I want to get across just how impressed with "The Revenant" I really was. What struck me the most was the way the film subverted the traditional action-movie character arc in BEGINNING with its lead in the worst possible state (bloodied and beaten) before only later becoming ready for the climactic 'showdown' when they are able-bodied.
It is in the aftermath of the bear attack that two volunteers remain behind to care for him, as the rest of the trappers press on to the fort. One of these is Tom Hardy's John Fitzgerald - a mumbling, grizzled Texan with money problems who has his own reasons for hating Indians. Iñárritu uses a combination of techniques to disguise the eventual conflict between the two men as mere small talk amidst a platoon of men just wanting to get back to base with their scalps intact.
When the first 'shot' of the film rings out, it is from Glass' rifle and the film cuts quite deliberately to Hardy's character reacting to it in the far distance - their binary natures are then established when it is revealed Fitzgerald only wants to save the 'pelt' skins they have accumulated on the expedition, while Glass tries to rescue as many fellow trappers as possible following the Indian raid.
Later, we witness verbal conflict on-board the escape-barge and then over Glass' son's ethnicity - were it not for the captain, who has authority over both of them and has already asserted it over Fitzgerald on the barge via an exchange in profile over whether to disembark, we sense they would resort to blows. The culmination of these exchanges spill over into the second act of the film and form Glass' ultimate goal, when Fitzgerald's hatred of Indians has combined with his superiority complex to lead him to do what he does. Watching Glass' recovery; escapade and catharsis is truly something to behold.
Perhaps the film's most impressive characteristic is its sheer nihilism: this is not a film wherein anybody really wins (except for, maybe, the Indians) Nobody's actions brings back their deceased loved ones; the world remains an incredibly savage, existential place full of death, pain, grief and natural selection - tomorrow, as today, a pack of wild dogs will savagely bring down a buffalo in order to eat him - time continues ticking, inevitably, towards whatever the future holds for us. Everyone (those few who survive) is largely worse off for what they experience in the film. Whatever you take from the film the most, there can be little denying that "The Revenant's" is a powerful accomplishment.