Standing alone in a western, snow-drenched tundra; the camera continues to pan out from the drifter as he walks into nothing, the man now merely a lifeless pinprick in a nature easily forgotten between skyscrapers and iPhones.
Into the Wild, written for the screen and directed by Sean Penn (Crossing Over), is an unrelenting examination into the life and mind of Christopher McCandless, based on the book by Jon Krakeur. The young drifter is played by up-and-comer Emile Hirsch (Alpha Dog).
After several "almost" movies, from the silly Girl Next Door to the ambitious misfire Alpha Dog, Hirsch has shown his dramatic range but failed to accompany said range with a suiting movie.
With Wild, Hirsch absorbs McCandless' soul and brings out the best and worst qualities in a spirit that's as free as it is ensnared. Along with Penn's experienced and subtle direction, Hirsch and the aforementioned filmmaking technique deliver us one of the most entrancing films of the year.
And while Hirsch is the movie's protagonist and proprietor of most scenes, the supporting players are used little while they contribute plenty. Standing out among the pack are Catherine Keener (Genova) and Brian Dierker as Jan and Rainey, a hippie couple that offers Chris shelter.
Their performances lighten the serious mood of the central story, while echoing the non-conformist themes Penn feels compelled to extract from Krakeur's book. Surprisingly, noting Penn's left-leaning political opinions, the film avoids politics and focuses slowly on the internal struggle of this young man, attempting to relate the character's demons with his audience.
While Keener's performance is not surprising citing her recent powerful screen presence in most any movie she appears in, Dierker makes his film debut and promises a solid career to come.
Along with Keener and Dierker stands Vince Vaughn (Fred Claus), playing a loving version of what we all hope is the real Vince Vaughn. As farmer Wayne Westerberg, Vaughn plays off Hirsch perfectly, the big brother McCandless never had.
And while these supporting players do their jobs and then some, the film's most important component is clearly the nature surrounding McCandless, or Alexander Supertramp, his on the road alias.
Every shot seems to contrast its human characters with an overwhelming feeling of naturalistic emptiness, essentially diffusing these characters into the setting they act against.
Even Hirsch has trouble, at points, out-acting the cinematography, which speaks for itself and then goes above and beyond. Along with an effective score courtesy of Pearl Jam's Eddie Vedder, it is safe to say that Wild could have worked just as well, if not better, had it been a silent film devoid of distracting dialogue.
This kind of film is rare among both today's tech-infused, loud, explosive Hollywood pictures and most independent, "artsy" films, which now focus solely on introverted performances and humanistic character studies, more or less ignoring the surrounding setting for deep dialogue and memorable line-delivery.
Wild succeeds in presenting a deep protagonist, using his surroundings to assist in McCandless' character development. With every wide-angle shot at a mountain range, river or empty desert, the viewer peers deeper into the wild heart that Krakeur wrote so vividly about.
Penn shows of McCandless' internal struggle, trapped in every direction by external beauty. Premiering only days ago at the Toronto International Film Festival, Wild is sure to make a splash come awards time.
Photo: Courtesy of Laron Fomby
