Powerful Into the Wild an Elegiac Triumph
In the beginning, there is rebellion. By the end, there is death. In the middle there is something extraordinary, life born from nowhere glistening brightly across America deeply touching and affecting all who have the good luck to come across it. Humanity is formed, cared for, looked after, sought, given, nurtured, explored and sealed to a forehead with a kiss. The entirety of human existence in two short years, all of it brought to life in an extraordinary motion picture that’s absolutely impossible to forget.
Chris McCandless (Emile Hirsch) gets wet in Paramount Vantages' Into the Wild
Living in Seattle I knew a bit of Chris McCandless’ story before walking into director Sean Penn’s Into the Wild. Adapted from the best-selling novel by Jon Krakauer by the filmmaker, I wasn’t sure what to expect. After all, the fate that ultimately befall McCandless in a little green bus deep within the Alaskan wilderness isn’t exactly pleasant, seeing this tragedy play out onscreen not exactly what I’d call my usual cup of tea.
But it’s good to try different brews every now and then, and this one isn’t just the best film Penn (The Pledge, The Crossing Guard) has ever made as a director, it’s also one of the most enthralling, ethereal, rapturous, emotional and downright spectacular pieces of cinematic achievement I’ve seen this year. Building slowly with precision and grace, the filmmaker turns McCandless’ tale into something wondrous, the picture building like a slowly simmering tsunami which only finally unleashes it building power in the final elegiac minutes.
And what is that story exactly? While on the surface it is the saga of McCandless’ (Emile Hirsch) two-year trek across America beginning with his stifling life of affluent privilege in the East and ending with his unfortunate journey’s end up in Alaska. But the film, much like Krakauer’s potently brilliant novel, is much more than that. For all of the young man’s failings, his story is more than a quest of self-discovery, more than the saga of a 24-year-old kid with too much confidence and too little common sense. It is, in fact, a primal tale of humanity’s constant infatuation with nature and how dealing with it affects the soul, and like Byron, Walden, Thoreau et al before him McCandless found something by escaping the hustle and bustle of the city most of us only dream of while never having the guts to attempt something similar ourselves.
By and large, Penn has shaped Krakauer’s dynamic prose into a visual treatise echoing classics like Days of Heaven, Jeremiah Johnson and McCabe and Mrs. Miller. Through personal diaries, limited dialogue and stirring music from Michael Brook, Kaki King and (especially) Eddie Vedder, the film weaves remarkable images of many of the real locations visited by McCandless during his quest all of them brought to life by Eric Gautier’s magnificent cinematography. The film quietly, almost surreptitiously, becomes a tome poem for the human soul, Penn achieving a level of emotional intimacy that virtually shook me right to the very core.
It doesn’t always work. Vince Vaughn, Marcia Gay Harden, William Hurt, Catherine Keener and others pop up here and there in small roles, and while they are all quite good I found I was concentrating more on the fact they were such recognizable stars then on trying to believe they were inhabiting the real life characters they were supposed to be portraying. In all honesty, it tends to get a bit jarring, and more than a couple of times I had to check myself to make sure I wasn’t keeping better tabs on them then I was on the emotional arc of the story.
Yet this isn’t always the case. Jenna Malone’s somber voice adds a delicate grounding to McCandless’ sudden severing of all ties with his family, while non-actor Brian Dierker is spellbinding as a fellow traveler who manages to find a sort of spiritual awakening the reignites a fraying relationship after spending time with the kid. Best of all is Hollywood veteran Hal Holbrook, the actor disappearing so completely into his role he’s almost unrecognizable. His last scene with Hirsch sitting in the front seat of his car is so powerful, so unbelievably affecting I’m actually starting to tear up again just thinking about it. It’s a remarkable performance, and in a career spanning television, theater and movies both big and small watching what Holbrook accomplishes here is like watching him for the very first time.
Then there is Hirsch. In almost ever scene in one way or another, the young actor finally delivers upon the promise only hinted at in works as diverse as Alpha Dog, Lords of Dogtown, The Mudge Boy and The Girl Next Door. He throws himself into the part of McCandless with absolute authoritative abandon, his pricelessly euphoric smile of successful rapture cutting home like a knife even as his body starts to bend and break due to massive malnourishment. The kid is spectacular, anchoring the picture with delicate conviction that couldn’t help but take me by surprise.
In the end (and to his credit), Penn refuses to either pull his punches or offer up any easy conclusions. Chris McCandless was indeed a victim of his own deluded sensibilities and his hard-boiled unbending convictions, but he was also a hero refusing to bow to society’s constant demands. He lived his life in pursuit of truth, in search of freedom. While that journey may have come to an end in the back of a little green bus the after watching Into the Wild I find myself believing Chris died more alive then most of could ever hope to be during even out best moments, and if that’s not a triumph worthy of celebration I’m not really sure in the end what then would be.
Film Rating: êêêê (out of 4)
