If you like horror movies with lots of blood and gore, tons of jump-scare moments and unrelenting, escalating scenes of excruciating death, then look elsewhere. If you like quiet, moody, thoughtful horror which casts blood aside in favor of a genuine feeling of dread, then Wendigo is for you.
Thoughtful, stressed out George, his psychoanalyst wife Kim and their young son Miles are heading out to the snowy countryside for a long weekend vacation away from the city. On the way up, George hits a stag with his car. The hunters who had been pursuing the deer are not thrilled when they find that George has ended their chase. In particular, deranged hunter Otis takes it personally. He follows the family to their vacation home, making sure they see him. He spies on George and Kim as they have sex. He fires through their windows with his rifle when they aren't home, letting them discover the ominous holes in their windows and walls when they return. When Kim takes Miles to the drugstore in town, Miles is attracted to a small sculpture in a display case, carved to resemble a man with the head of a stag. A Native American man tells Miles that this is the Wendigo, a spirit of the woods who has a taste for flesh and is always hungry. Miles takes the figure home with him, already haunted by the death of the deer the day before. That afternoon, when he and his father go sledding, George is shot and Miles pursued through the woods by a creature barely glimpsed...or is he just in shock, and imagining the whole thing? Hours later, George is rushed to the hospital and Miles, still clutching his statue, either faints, dreams or goes on a vision quest, in which the Wendigo returns. This time the angry, flesh eating god - part tree, part stag and part man - is hunting for Otis, who has finally gone over the edge.
Wendigo is a beautifully made film, almost totally silent but for the wind howling through the snow covered trees. Okay, so the monster itself is kind of fakey-looking, but it's a small flaw, more than made up for by the genuine feeling of tension and dread that creeps through every frame of the film, and the eerie backdrop of the silent, snowy countryside. The performances are great, particularly by Jake Weber as the moody and thoughtful George and Patricia Clarkson as his sweet but no-nonsense wife. They are a happy couple with their share of common problems, and it is the strength of their relationship and their love for each other that makes this film powerful. Watching this film is often like watching someone's home videos, so realistic are the performances.
This movie is not for everyone. A lot of people may find themselves totally bored, waiting for the hideous Lovecraftian Beast and bloody revenge that never come. We can never really be sure if the Wendigo even exists, seen as it is through the eyes of a sensitive child and also, later, through the eyes of a madman. This is more a psychological drama than a horror film, but it has more than enough creepy elements in it to satisfy fans of subtle horror.

...though for a film that seems to be trying to market itself as a horror, there was a distinct lack of blood.
There was also a distinct lack of skilled directing, acting, editing, and script-writing.
Jeremy London put in one of most appalling performances I've ever seen - his "descent into the maelström" of madness is achingly self-aware and clumsy. Oh look at him twitch! Oh look at him drink strong spirits! Oh look at him raise his brow, and cock his head at a jaunty angle! Oh look at his unwashed, greasy dark hair! Oh listen to his affectedly husky voice! He must be a tortured artist/writer/genius! Oh, yes, out comes the poet-shirt - it's another boy who thinks he's Byron. (Or Poe.) Oh for the love of... did someone give this guy a manual on "How To Act Good" or did they just pull him out of a cardboard box somewhere, the defunct little plastic toy-prize in a discontinued brand of bargain-bin cereal. Okay, that was a stupid line - but that's only because London's performance has melted my brain with its awfulness.
Katherine Heigl is cute, and very briar rose, but has yet to grow into her acting shoes in this film - she delivered her lines like she was being held up, in fact, her whole performance was very wooden, her poses as stiff as her lines - who knows, perhaps she was just reacting to, and trying to neutralise, Jeremy London's flailing excesses, but if that's the case, she takes it too far.
Notable is Arie Verveen as Poe - while his character's role is confused, he delivers the best performance of the piece. He, quite simply, looks right, but it's more than that - he has some sort of depth, I believed that he had a life beyond the dismal two-dimensional quality of the rest of the characters. Huh, maybe it's just because I like Poe, and could thus just let my mind wander and invent while he was on screen - whatever, he had an interest factor otherwise missing.
The rest of the characters are a faceless blur - there are all the usual caricatures: the perky blonde best-friend who's a bit of a floozy; the smitten local cop who's a bit of a dork; the protective older man who perhaps has too much un-fatherly interest in our heroine; the scheming old witch, etc., etc., yawn, yawn.
As with the 'distinct lack of blood for a horror movie' issue, none of the themes that they mention (and that London's character mentions - so scathingly - in his attack on Poe's writing) are followed through on. As another reviewer said - there was potential here: murder, incest, - genuinely shocking stuff, but instead they skirt away from the issues, and cut away from the violence (a raised candlestick swinging through the air - closing in on it's victim - then---cut to black! This is fine in a Noirish traditional horror, indeed, it's expected, and is fondly received when it happens - it's a dear convention, especially when accompanied by fake lightning bolts and intense Siouxie eye makeup - but in 'Descendant' it just comes across as clumsy, or as though the editor got queasy at the last minute and cut it out.) This could have either been a very tense psychological thriller - the horror of palingenesis/delusion/madness - or a simple (and fun) slasher movie: it tries to be both, or neither (something new and exciting!), but either way it fails dismally. The only horror element of this entire movie is it's epic dullness.
I think the editor (if there was one at all) must have been drunk when s/he chopped this thing up - there are awkwardly foreshortened scenes; scenes that appeared to be out of order (but that could have just been the poor script). LIkewise the director & cinematographer - there were some very strange shots and framing that I think were meant to be tributes to Hitchcock or Browning, but just ended up looking silly (again, fine in a noir, but this was trying to be something else.)
The whole thing perhaps may have been funny (in that way that previous reviewers have mentioned - "OMG how did this get made?!?") if I had been in the mood for some trash- bagging, unfortunately for me I had settled on the couch, with the lights down low, with the express intention of scaring myself silly - this is a very poor film, and I'm afraid I can't recommend it to people, not even for laughs.
Please, please, don't waste your time or money on this - either borrow a real horror/thriller film, or find yourself a copy of Poe's fantastical tales, either way, you'll have a far more enjoyable and frightening night than you could ever hope to achieve with this rubbish.