Could not find a post release thread for this one.
At the end of Old Joy and Wendy and Lucy, there was a final shot that sort of crystallized the movie for me. That potential shot is present here, but, for me, it didn't seem to illuminate anything. Maybe that's the point.
In all of Kelly Reichardt's movies, it feels like the most important thing is the unknowable thing. Be it what lies secret in the hearts of people we think we know, or what's the root of a troubled soul we may too easily dismiss.
In Meek's Cutoff, a group of pioneers wander the landscape, guessing at which way to go, looking for signs of hope or threat that are probably not even present, (and if they were, would they even be able to understand them?)
The heart of the film seems to be the inability to communicate. Their ostensible guide, Steven Meek, speaks a lot but says nothing trustworthy. The rest of them suffer and toil in virtual silence. There is an impenatrable wall between them and the Indian they capture and try to force to lead the party to water. There is no scene of recognition at even the simplest of things. Not even a nod or gesture that they've successfully communicated what they want him to do.
Some of the group wants to turn back. Others say "One more day. Give it one more day." It gets to the point where the choices seem identical.
The only thing that ever seems to provide any of them with any sort of information is their copy of a bible. But, even in such a barren and quiet place, what's more silent than God? What answers can the book possibly provide? It's like using a Chinese food menu to put together a computer.
There are a few potential reference points. Meek is pretty clearly a sort of Bush-like figure. The ignorant, fearmongering blowhard who fails to lead his people. The movie is occasionally reminiscent of other films, like the wandering party in The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie (itself referenced at the end of Oliver Stone's W.), or the two men hopelessly lost, searching for water in Gus van Sant's Gerry. And, less concretely, Van Sant's Last Days, in which the more time we spend with a character, the more inscrutable he becomes.
But, watching it, it certainly doesn't feel like we're given much to go on. Perhaps it's an example of form following function. Where the shape of the movie is indicative of its themes. Or maybe I just didn't get it.
