“Tattered gods slouching in their rags across the
waste. Trekking the dried floor of a mineral sea where it lay cracked
and broken like a fallen plate.”- Cormac McCarthy
In sharp contrast to accepted opinion, out of 250,000 American settlers
who crossed the Plains between 1840 and 1860, only 362 died in battles
between the settlers and the Indians, and many more Indians than is
supposed gave the new settlers directions, showed them where to find
water, sold them food and horses, and served as guides and
interpreters. Shot in a boxy screen ratio similar to Westerns of the
1950s, Kelly Reichardt's Meek's Cutoff is a haunting tale of the
struggle for survival of three pioneer families in Oregon Territory in
1845 and their issues of trust with an unnamed Indian that they have
captured.
Like Kevin Costner's Dancing with Wolves before it, the film attempts
to overcome the stereotype of Indians as primitive, murderous savages
spreading fear and death among terrified pioneers, showing them as real
human beings. Written by Jonathan Raymond, Meek's Cutoff is not a
story of “progress” or “manifest destiny”, but a depiction of the
difficult options that the real settlers were faced with, options that
were never clear cut. The travelers have placed their trust in Stephen
Meek, (Bruce Greenwood), a boastful and untrustworthy guide who
attempts to lead them to the Columbia River by traveling across the
Eastern and Central Oregon Desert, heading west.
As in Wendy and Lucy, Reichardt's characters are lost without a
significant guidepost to hold on to, agonizingly dependent on others
for survival. Thrust into the middle of a barren world, the travelers:
Emily Tetherow (Michelle Williams), her husband Solomon (Will Patton),
Thomas (Paul Dano), and his wife (Zoe Kazan), the White family, Glory
(Shirley Henderson), William (Neal Huff) and their ten-year-old son
Jimmy (Tommy Nelson) are uncertain when or even if they will find water
or whether they will be attacked by nomadic Indian tribes. The film
opens with three covered wagons crossing a stream, the wagons and their
horses barely staying above water.
Once across, the families look to the grizzled Meek for guidance but
are not reassured. He insists that he knows the way and tells them “we
are not lost, we are just finding our way.” When asked, "How far's the
route?" Meek answers, "We'll find out," and remarks oddly, “We're all
just playing our parts now. This was written long before we got here.”
Some have suggested that the film is an allegory about the danger of
blindly trusting political leaders but Reichardt does not go there, and
the film is wisely left open to interpretation. Like the families trek
through the desert, Meek's Cutoff moves slowly and can be a challenge
to those who are looking for the action of an old-fashioned
Western.
There are a few close-ups but the cinematography of Chris Blauvelt
keeps the settlers mostly at a distance, showing them in the middle of
a vast terrain, surrounded on all sides by emptiness. Much of the film
is seen from the women's point of view. Remaining in the background,
they walk behind the covered wagons and do not taking part in decision
making. The women strain to hear the men talking to each other in the
distance, but mainly are seen going about their chores: sewing,
gathering wood, and cooking. The dialogue is minimal and often words
can be barely heard or understood.
Though it is unclear at first where the film is headed, when an Indian
(Rod Rondeaux) of the Cayuse tribe is captured, the issue of who to
trust becomes a paramount theme. Unable to communicate in the same
language (no subtitles are shown), the families do not know if the
Indian is a scout who will signal his tribe to attack their party or
whether he will lead them to water. Meek wants to kill him but the
families desperate need for water persuades them to let him live, even
though they are uncertain as to where he will take them. Giving up
being understood, the Cayuse talks to himself out loud, carves words or
symbols in the rocks, and smiles enigmatically when one of the wagons
careens down a hill.
His motives are obscure, but when William White collapses from
exhaustion, he sings a healing chant over the fallen man that has a
calming and reassuring effect. Slowly, Emily manifests a previously
hidden inner strength, taking a stand against those who want the Indian
to be killed, even courageously pointing a rifle aimed at Meek as he is
about to shoot their captive. As Kicking Bird said to Dances with
Wolves in the 1990 film of the same name, "I was just thinking that of
all the trails in this life, there is one that matters more than all
the others. It is the trail of a true human being. I think you are on
this trail and it is good to see." The same can be said of Emily and,
of course, Kelly Reichardt.
GRADE: A-