Oregon is hard country. Its soil invites death. It’s dry, difficult terrain at the best of times, especially if you’re negotiating it with a bunch of wagons under the dubious guidance of a man who may or may not know where he’s taking you. Meek’s Cutoff is the latest film from regional filmmaker extraordinaire Kelly Reichardt, and her second collaboration with the talented Michelle Williams. Set in the 1845 Wild West frontier with the reality of possibly hostile native encounters, Meek’s Cutoff can easily be seen as a near timeless anti-Western. Its physical and psychological meandering is universal.
En route to a new beginning, Emily (Williams) doubts that Meek (Bruce Greenwood) knows where he’s taking the people who follow him. They are only a few; three couples (including the great Will Patton, Paul Dano, Neal Huff, Zoe Kazan), one child. Their trek is a minor one but no less hard than others. It is clear that others also fear for the worst: that their leader has no idea where they’re going. Early in the film, one character scratches a single word on a log: “LOST”. It’s an eerie image, accurate and indicative not only of the characters’ predicament but also that the issue is not openly discussed. Etched into wood, at least there’s some manifest permanence to the idea.
They trek. They are hungry, with limited food supplies, but the threat of running out of water is the worst. Then one day on party member spots an Indian on a nearby ridge, and their feelings of uncertainty and vulnerability increase. Maybe they should turn back, but will they be able to sustain themselves? Will they find their way? Maybe they should stick to Meek, who entertains the men with tall tales, and is at least the devil they know.
Somewhere in the film an additional character joins the travellers. He is unlike them and inspires fear in some, particularly a distrustful and weak Meek, empathy in others. One should be weary to not exclusively read the other characters’ interactions with this man as politically loaded. As the film progressed I became convinced that it is a deeply psycho-symbolic text on psychological integration and accountability. The film has something to say about masculinity, about a male insistence on certain success, and about men who prefer questioning and contemplation when faced with starvation. It's no surprise that the strongest (in many ways) character is Williams' Emily, who understands the men that travel with her.
Reichardt’s confidence as a filmmaker is evident in scenes where the characters try to match up against the indifferent landscape that threatens to spit them out. The film does not have much of a soundtrack; there are the characters, their words, and the silence of the vastness that can claim their lives. The striking cinematography has a near palpable purity to it, as if the images are crisp, clean and objective.
Their journey continues up to the film’s ending, an enigmatic and open moment that is best interpreted symbolically. It’s the kind of ending that have regular moviegoers ripping out their own hair, and that of the person sitting next to them. I couldn’t help but think of the famous line from that masterwork No Country for Old Men, “You can’t stop what’s coming”. That film demonstrated that old age cripples us, then death takes us. That idea of the unavoidable is present in Meek’s Cutoff as well, underlying an inescapable human fallibility that emphasises our mortality while the world and its environments remain long after our passing. The characters in Meek’s Cutoff may have thought that they were mapping a new country as they moved; the land is oblivious to them.
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