Alpha: A bit of a mutt

Alpha (2018) • View trailer 
Three stars. Rated PG-13, for dramatic intensity
By Derrick Bang

This is a lovely notion for a story, but the execution leaves something to be desired.

Actually, I’m not certain it can be rendered successfully as a film. Director Albert Hughes and scripter Daniele Sebastian Wiedenhaupt certainly put heart and soul into their effort, but the result is slow, occasionally lifeless and frequently — distractingly — contrived.

Separated from their respective companions, Keda (Kodi Smit-McPhee) and his unlikely
ally increasingly rely on each other, while attempting to survive prehistoric Europe's
dangerous environment.

At the risk of sounding like a killjoy, the very premise is flawed. While it’s romantic to consider the notion of a hyper-intelligent “first dog” that allowed itself to be fully domesticated some 20,000 years in our past, in truth it likely took many, many generations of (accidental?) wolf breeding before something approximating humanity’s best friend finally emerged.

But that wouldn’t be nearly as enticing during a studio story pitch.

Alpha belongs to the small but intriguing sub-genre of “protagonist(s) against the elements” films that are largely — or completely — bereft of dialogue. Its predecessors include 1981’s Quest for Fire, 1986’s adaptation of Clan of the Cave Bear and the pack’s stand-out classic, 1988’s The Bear. The latter’s director, Jean-Jacques Annaud — who also helmed Quest for Fire — has a strong artistic, visual and dramatic sense that keeps viewers breathlessly hooked.

Which Hughes can’t do, and no surprise; his résumé, working in tandem with brother Allen, focuses on grim, often socially conscious action thrillers such as Menace II Society, Dead Presidents, From Hell and The Book of Eli. He hasn’t the faintest idea how to handle something requiring the careful, delicate touch that Alpha demands. I kept lamenting how far superior this film would have been, in Annaud’s hands.

Hughes’ insecurity manifests immediately: He opens with a pointless flash-forward to one of the film’s most catastrophically suspenseful moments, freezes the climactic image, leaves us hanging (literally), then backs up to begin the story chronologically. One can’t help feeling that he worried about losing his audience, during a lengthy first act that (frankly) wastes a lot of time setting the stage.

Or perhaps that decision was thrust upon Hughes by nervous execs at Studio 8 (the production company) or Columbia Pictures (the distributor). Regardless, it’s an irritating cheat that bodes ill for the rest of the film.

We’re introduced to a small clan of Cro-Magnon tool-makers toward the end of Europe’s Mesolithic period. These are civilized people, with rituals, a language, primitive weapons, family hierarchies and an understanding that survival depends on working together, with everybody contributing. The tribe is led by Tau (Jóhannes Haukur Jóhannesson), stern and strong, and proud that his 17-year-old son, Keda (Kodi Smit-McPhee), has just come of age. 

For the first time, Keda will join the men on their dangerous trek to locate the massive herds of steppe bison that populate very distant grasslands: an annual hunt required to supply the food that will get the clan through the subsequent harsh winter.

The long overland hike takes weeks, ultimately climaxing in a novel and quite efficient method of securing plenty of bison meat. But the hunt proves calamitous for Keda, left behind — his father raging with grief — after the young man is believed dead.

But he isn’t, although his subsequent survival — hour by hour, day by day — is highly unlikely. If the elements don’t kill him, roving hyenas, leopards or wolves will bring him down. An encounter with half a dozen of the latter leaves Keda safely up a dead tree, with one injured wolf on the ground below.

As has been established by this point, Keda’s “weakness” is having too much heart, and not enough practicality; he finds it difficult to kill anything larger than a rabbit, even when his survival depends on it. He therefore can’t bring himself to finish off the wolf; instead, he binds its snout and carries it to the shelter of a rock cave, where a “bonding process” takes place with remarkable speed, as he nurses their wounds.

Subsequent events require an ongoing suspension of disbelief, which — in fairness — is easy to oblige. Smit-McPhee is an engaging, earnest and forcefully emotional actor, and that’s essential: If we snicker, when he begins talking to his (initially) unwilling four-legged companion, expecting it to understand, the story’s delicate spell would shatter.

We don’t, and it doesn’t: an important victory for all concerned.

The film’s most charming chapter follows, as man and wolf — Keda, rather poetically, has dubbed it Alpha — adjust to their new dynamic. The story’s sole nod toward mild humor comes when Alpha, adept at (for example) driving a feral pig toward Keda’s waiting spear, stands in stoic, four-legged disapproval when the young man fails to make the killing thrust.

We can almost hear Alpha’s thoughts: What’s the matter with you, kid? Ya wanna eat, or not?

Keda soon gets the message, responding far better to Alpha’s silent reproach, than to the lessons his father earlier attempted to impart.

Kudos to head animal trainer Mark Forbes, and the range of reactions he draws from 5-year-old Chuck, a Czech wolf dog (a cross between a German shepherd and a Carpathian wolf). Such an expressive face.

And so events proceed, as Keda — accompanied by Alpha — desperately tries to make his way back to the clan, knowing full well that the killing winter is likely to arrive before he ever could succeed.

This section of Hughes’ film holds our attention; so do the sweeping landscapes and star-dazzling night skies captured so brilliantly by Martin Gschlacht’s gorgeous cinematography. The drama and suspense are handled far better at this point, although there’s a major plot hiccup when Alpha, having “bid farewell” and rejoined a nearby wolf pack, abruptly decides to return to Keda. (We can’t help wondering why.)

Hughes also favors bewildering — and quite annoying — extended blackouts between scenes: some so long that I worried the film had stopped due to some projection snafu. Joseph S. DeBeasi and Michael Stearns’ relentlessly pounding, bombastic synth score is another major miscalculation, as it frequently interferes with what should be quieter dramatic moments.

It’s difficult to know what type of music would be preferable, given the Ice Age setting, but something classical and old-school orchestral probably would have been a better bet, particularly if applied more judiciously.

The key tech credits are admirable: Production designer John Willett and costume designer Sharen Davis give us a strong sense of Tau’s clan, in terms of time and place. Similar care clearly has been taken, to keep the flora and fauna period-accurate.

Given the size of the visual effects teams, it’s safe to assume that most (all?) of the non-canine critters are CGI constructs.

Ultimately, Alpha simply isn’t memorable. It’s bound to bore small children, while also trying their parents’ patience. Good intentions don’t always translate into successful results.