Meek's Cutoff: Genuine Work of Art

Kelly Reichardt’s new film, “Meek’s Cutoff,” is a stark, tough meditation on being lost and not knowing whom to trust. It also reflects on the collision of cultures, particularly in the context of colonial conquest. These themes certainly aren’t new, but Ms. Reichardt distinguishes herself by exploring them in an unusually complex way. It’s not just two cultures colliding, but 25 or so, maybe even 50. Also, there are not just two camps mistrusting each other, but several.

Another interesting complexity is that the film in a way draws up for question what it means to feel lost. Walking out of the theater, I found myself thinking about this in some new ways. What triggers in people the feeling of being lost? What makes it go away? When people feel it, they often say, “I don’t know where I am,” which calls to mind that ancient Buddhist maxim: “Everywhere you go, there you are.”

While the complexities are a pleasure and the film is strong, “Meek’s Cutoff” doesn’t bowl one over. It has a haunting quality, and it will surely make numerous Top 20 lists at the end of the year. But I don’t suspect it will make many Top 5 lists. Ms. Reichardt is a unique and courageous artist, and we’re lucky to have her. She refuses to court the mainstream or kowtow to trends. Commercial considerations seem to play absolutely no role in her work. Only artistic considerations matter to her. This is enormously appreciated in these times of shallow commercialism. But there’s something underwhelming about her work. Her ultra-minimalist style frequently feels thin. She’s a genuine cinematic auteur, but not a great one. At least not yet.

Many of the great cinematic artists of our time are minimalist. Since about 1960, that has been one of the predominant methods for reaching higher artistic ground. But where, say, Apichatpong Weerasethakul's minimalism feels most often like a feast, Kelly Reichardt's often comes across like starvation. Minimalism as anorexia.

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“Meek’s Cutoff” is set in 1840s North America. Three white American families are seeking to settle in the west, but it’s not turning out as they had hoped. They are in a vast barren part of the Oregon territory that seems to have no end, and food and water are scarce. They have put their faith in a fellow white American named Stephen Meek (very well played by Bruce Greenwood), but they may have succumbed to the naive belief that all white Americans look out for each other.

When Meek's cutoff leads them nowhere, they begin to suspect that he's in cahoots with either the British or the Natives to prevent Americans from settling in the region. When the film opens, they have been wandering in the arid near-desert for five weeks already. The would-be settlers are staring into the face of death and wondering if their last act on Earth should be to hang Meek. But how can they be sure of his intentions?

Then they capture a lone Indian, and everything gets more interesting. The Indian (played beautifully by a professional stuntman named Rod Rondeaux) seems not to understand any English, and none of them understands his language. They impress him into servitude, asking to be led to water. Meek is unremittingly hostile to the Indian, saying that Indians are murderous and cunning. Is Meek protecting the settlers or trying to prevent the Indian from rescuing them?

--unfinished—