The Revenant (2015)

Watching the much-awarded The Revenant is an ordeal, but director Alejandro G Iñárritu’s films have such energy and compassion that I hoped the payoff would be worth the stretch. Iñárritu’s early films Amores Perros and 21 Grams re-humanize characters who make bad choices; with an attention to scale that might be described as Napoleonic. The Revenant is the (loosely historical) tale of Hugh Glass (Leonardo di Caprio), an early 19th century fur-trapper left for dead in a bear attack, agonizing his way to track his victimizer (Tom Hardy) through some of the most freezing and most wasted frozen wasteland in cinema. Di Caprio and Hardy’s commitment have been rightly applauded—this is a cold and exhausting way to make a film. And the craft is monumental—arrows (which look real) seem to be landing on the audience, the bear attack is terrifying, and the camera hardly ever stops moving. But the exploration of the futility of revenge at the heart of this story is confused.

The moving mid-point performs like a one act play during a pause in hostilities on an insane battleground. Near death, Glass is picked up by a Pawnee escaping the slaughter of his village and wandering alone. The Indian restores Leo’s broken body, saving him from simply running out of steam. Their conversation is simple: the Indian is trying to find more of his people, giving up the chance at vengeance, because “revenge is in the hand of the Creator.” He’d rather get rebuild some semblance of home than pursue the blood of those who harmed him. It’s an amazing scene, ghostly and meditative. The kindest act in The Revenant is when a wounded person helps a man who might otherwise represent his oppressor.

If the film had ended here, or had the courage of this character’s convictions, it could have been one of the most powerful explorations of how violence repeats itself unless one party opts for total renunciation. What we get, however, is the opposite. Vengeance is made sacred, indigenous people turned into the instrument of blood-curdling torture and murder, while the white guy gets eternity with his magic Indian wife. Thoughtful films exploring trauma and violence do exist (examples include The Secret Life of Words, The Night of the Hunter, Paths of Glory, Revanche and A Short Film About Killing). But while The Revenant is halfway to being brilliant, and the people who made it surely wanted to embody something more humane, ultimately it can’t decide if an eye for an eye is preferable or merely inevitable. Both those choices omit the option to give up violence altogether.