Of all the film templates to subvert, the Western is probably the most interesting to me. I live a world away from the American West, but its potential as a backdrop to storytelling and the tropes that come with the genre are fascinating; as such, Meek's Cutoff was instantly of interest. I was intrigued by Kelly Reichardt's reputation as an uncompromising filmmaker as well as her focus on characters caught at the margins of life, trying to scratch out an existence.
From the outset, Reichardt establishes the film as something slow and contemplative—we watch the Meek caravan cross a river, the characters washing clothes and gathering water, always moving slowly towards an uncertain future. The cinematography is achingly beautiful; particularly the shots at night, lit by little more than the dying embers of a fire. It gradually becomes clear that the immigrants are being led to nowhere by the incalcitrant and surly Meek. The wives speak in hushed tones, shut out of the decision making as they journey onwards.
The cast all do a creditable job, particularly Williams as Mrs Tetherow who, little by little, is revealed to be the most competent and sure-hearted member of the party. The dynamic changes when, running low on water, Meek captures a native man who has been following the group for some time. Speaking in untranslated downriver Nez Perce (a language that is desperately, perilously close to extinction), he is treated with naked contempt by the white men. The women appear more open to the idea of him offering them assistance, particularly in return for warmth and shelter, but the fraught and imbalanced relationship between the man and the group forms the basis of the rest of the film. Almost imperceptibly, Mrs Tetherow's influence increases as Meek's wanes and they come to rely on the native man to lead them to water and possibly salvation, although the film's ambiguities never leave the audience with a tidy resolution.
Personally, I relish this sort of cinema. It is a more honest reflection of life, I think, where events don't necessarily have a grander significance, where things aren't wrapped up neatly or easily. In many ways, Meek's Cutoff has no beginning and no end, it just is. And that's more than enough for me.
Review by DeletedBlockedParent2020-01-25T15:37:27Z
Of all the film templates to subvert, the Western is probably the most interesting to me. I live a world away from the American West, but its potential as a backdrop to storytelling and the tropes that come with the genre are fascinating; as such, Meek's Cutoff was instantly of interest. I was intrigued by Kelly Reichardt's reputation as an uncompromising filmmaker as well as her focus on characters caught at the margins of life, trying to scratch out an existence.
From the outset, Reichardt establishes the film as something slow and contemplative—we watch the Meek caravan cross a river, the characters washing clothes and gathering water, always moving slowly towards an uncertain future. The cinematography is achingly beautiful; particularly the shots at night, lit by little more than the dying embers of a fire. It gradually becomes clear that the immigrants are being led to nowhere by the incalcitrant and surly Meek. The wives speak in hushed tones, shut out of the decision making as they journey onwards.
The cast all do a creditable job, particularly Williams as Mrs Tetherow who, little by little, is revealed to be the most competent and sure-hearted member of the party. The dynamic changes when, running low on water, Meek captures a native man who has been following the group for some time. Speaking in untranslated downriver Nez Perce (a language that is desperately, perilously close to extinction), he is treated with naked contempt by the white men. The women appear more open to the idea of him offering them assistance, particularly in return for warmth and shelter, but the fraught and imbalanced relationship between the man and the group forms the basis of the rest of the film. Almost imperceptibly, Mrs Tetherow's influence increases as Meek's wanes and they come to rely on the native man to lead them to water and possibly salvation, although the film's ambiguities never leave the audience with a tidy resolution.
Personally, I relish this sort of cinema. It is a more honest reflection of life, I think, where events don't necessarily have a grander significance, where things aren't wrapped up neatly or easily. In many ways, Meek's Cutoff has no beginning and no end, it just is. And that's more than enough for me.