The potentially dire implications of this film’s fleeting prologue constantly hover, like a dark cloud, over the subsequent drama.
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| As they begin their long trek back to the safety of civilization, Belmont (Brad Pitt) and his loyal dog Odin make a point of replenishing their water supply whenever possible. |
And, it must be said, this saga is dominated by one of the all-time best movie dogs ever.
(Played primarily by a former search and rescue dog named Uber, with three of his offspring — littermates Ryker and Zika, and their younger half-brother Hondo — used as stunt or secondary doubles.)
Anyway...
Following the aforementioned prologue, we bounce back seven days, as James Belmont (Brad Pitt) smoothly pilots his pontoon plane to an isolated beach in the Alaskan wilderness. His sole companion, in the passenger seat, is a massive German Shepherd named Odin.
Both are retired from combat service, Belmont from a long career as a U.S. Army Special Forces officer, and military service dog trainer. Odin is his final combat dog, and now constant companion.
They’ve obviously made such trips many times before, to this or similar beaches. Belmont has the process down to a science: two large waterproof containers with everything necessary — tent, food, first aid supplies — along with a huge cooler laden with dozens of bottles of Belgian brown ale (for which he developed a taste, during overseas deployment). Odin has his own specialized “backpack,” with small pouches on both sides of his huge chest.
Belmont also carries an impressive rifle, but he’s not some capricious hunter; he respects life too much. The weapon is solely for self-defense, and he mostly uses its scope to watch moose, birds and other wildlife.
Belmont and Odin are completely at ease, and comfortable with each other’s company. The former clearly has nobody else in his life, and that’s the way he likes it.
But come nighttime, both often suffer from PTSD nightmares.
A few days into this little vacation, their isolation is interrupted by the unexpected arrival of a grizzled older man, Watkins (J.K. Simmons). Belmont is less than thrilled, and also wary; Ayer shades this initial encounter in a manner that also makes us uneasy. Watkins clearly is offbeat, a bit unpredictable, and perhaps even dangerous.
But it turns out okay, and Watkins’ presence becomes an excuse for us to learn, via their quiet evening chat over a warm fire, more about Belmont’s background.
Simmons is delightful. Watkins is polite, cheerful, and savvy enough to recognize the limits of Belmont’s comfort level. Simmons’ performance evokes memories of classic cantankerous old coots in movies such as 1948’s The Treasure of the Sierra Madre.
He stays only one night, warns that a storm is coming, and departs before Belmont and Odin waken the following morning. What subsequently follows is a two-hander: just man and dog.
Thanks to Belmont’s equally savvy perception of weather conditions, he packs everything back into his plane, and they take off. Although briefly caught by the leading edge of the storm, Belmont rises above it, after which the trip home looks to be smooth.
Then he suffers a sudden heart attack.
Crippled by the pain, barely able to remain conscious, Belmont loses control of his plane. They crash through the tree line just prior to plunging, upside-down, into a large lake. The cold water revives Belmont, who swims ashore. Ever practical, he begins the laborious process of freeing the two waterproof supply containers, and getting them to shore: the first of this film’s truly harrowing, nail-biting sequences. (Many more will follow.)
He sets up camp, and they rest. Then his practical side takes over. He’s a former soldier, laden with skills; he knows how to move through rough terrain with only a map, a compass and a pencil to guide him. After precisely identifying their location, he determines that the nearest road is 58 miles away.
It’s by no means a difficult trek, even through sometimes treacherous terrain, for a physically fit man and dog. But a man in the aftermath of a heart attack? Popping aspirin like breath mints, Belmont knows that the only option is to try.
What follows proves harrowing, to say the least. Both nature and the Alaskan wilderness are unforgiving, and Alexander’s script throws everything at them. (To be clear, everything reasonable; there’s no need to lard the script with contrived peril.) But no matter what happens, they never lose hope, and they never give up on each other.
Pitt is wholly persuasive in this role: note-perfect as a former soldier and dogged fighter, with excellent survival skills. Most crucially, the intimacy of Belmont’s bond with Odin becomes an almost physical thing: an off-the-chart degree of trust, caring, helping and looking out for each other. (This connection is genuine; Pitt worked closely with Uber and animal trainer Andrew Simpson during production, to establish that bond.)
To say the resulting drama is emotionally powerful, is a massive understatement.
Cinematographer Mauro Fiore balances the rugged beauty of jaw-dropping wilderness tableaus with sharper, intense close-ups during moments of crisis. (The rugged portions of New Zealand’s South Island stand in for Alaska.) Ayer and editor Dody Dorn maintain taut pacing, using all manner of cinematic skills to enhance this saga.
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