The Revenant was among the top five (or so) most-anticipated films for me this year. The previews promised drama, suspense, and amazing landscape as a backdrop. The film, an epic early 1800s piece focusing on survival and revenge, did not disappoint.
After seeing the film, I remarked to a friend that it was good, but maybe not Best Picture good. The more days that crept between me and that viewing, though, the more I appreciated the film for so much more that it did—and did not do. About a day after watching it, I was struck by the allegorical undercurrent of the movie. And the more I reflect on that aspect, the more I revere the movie. And the higher on the list toward Best Picture it moves.
Not only is the cinematography and scenery simply stunning (I could *feel* the surroundings of the silence-absorbing snow, the biting wind, and the whispering trees), the acting is top-notch. Leonardo DiCaprio earned his Oscar nomination. (His competition is stiff, but he delivered the most unique performance to me, putting his ahead of Damon’s in The Martian (both of which are ahead of Fassbender’s in Steve Jobs).) He brings an element of fierce determination, displayed not just with his expressions but with his entire body, that outshines what I imagine most could be capable of in such a role. Although silent for a large part of the film, he is still acting, and he’s acting convincingly. Likewise, Tom Hardy’s evil nature oozes across the screen for every scene he is in, eliciting an internal cringe and stomach turning in disgust at the level of contempt a person can have for another human.
In discussing the film with a friend, his point was that this was too familiar in the setting of a revenge tale. Yes, it’s classic revenge—almost. Almost, because to me, it’s more. First, there’s the survival element. This takes the revenge aspect to an exponential level: how badly must one want revenge to survive the conditions and obstacles that DiCaprio’s Glass survives? (As my friend said, “When else will you ever see Leonardo DiCaprio born again from a horse?!”) And yes, the revenge need is so gripping, it makes the movie almost too singularly focused. But on more reflection, that, to me, is about obsession that develops from the brutal conditions Glass battles. I’m not sure if in the end it was revenge that drove Glass more than the mental break-down, leading to an inability to distinguish between the need to live and the need to exact revenge, with the two of these things fluidly morphing from one to the other and back throughout Glass’s journey. I also think this movie ended differently than many revenge storylines—in a couple of different ways, namely, that revenge and how it came to fruition and more so, the future, or lack thereof, for Glass.
But the grander element of the film for me was what I saw in its allegorical approach to land/family, violence, captivity, and force. A few times in discussing the film, I referenced this part as seeing the Chief as a metaphor for God. But the more I sit back and reflect, the more I see the Chief not as a god-like stand-in, only because the religious elements would get much too tangled with that, but as a stand-in for Nature (Yes, I’m capitalizing Nature here, viewing it as its own force). Or maybe, Karma, if you will. And *that* is what makes me want to see this movie again. *That* is what makes this movie stand out—these deeper issues that lie below the surface of struggle, survival, and revenge.
And yet, as I even try to reflect more, elements of politics (justice/powers of nations/battles for control) weave into my Chief metaphor. But these elements are loose (not flimsy)—somehow chaotic in their assortment of thoughts and feelings evoked within me as I think of the Chief, his mission in the movie, his role. This too pesters my thinking, bringing the movie back to reflect on and wonder about. The Chief is who really stays with me from this movie rather than Glass. This too makes the movie even better: this side character, that powerful in its force to me as I watched.
I won’t likely see this again (doing so is rare for me), but this movie has stayed with me. Not only that, but I have had two three separate conversations about the movie during which the other person and I remembered key scenes diametrically differently. Well, so maybe I *should* go see it again.
Whether I see it again or not, I can say again this film is good.
And yes, I can say now, after reflection, it is Best Picture good.