Alejandro González Iñárritu’s The Revenant (2015) is a visceral, harrowing survival story that captivates through its sheer intensity and uncompromising realism. Set in the early 19th century, the film is loosely based on the true story of Hugh Glass, a frontiersman who was left for dead after a brutal bear attack, only to endure unimaginable hardships to survive and seek revenge on the men who abandoned him. With Leonardo DiCaprio in the lead role, The Revenant pushes the boundaries of what an actor can endure on screen, while Iñárritu’s direction, combined with Emmanuel Lubezki’s breathtaking cinematography, delivers an unforgettable cinematic experience.
From the very beginning, the film immerses the audience in a world of brutal natural beauty and unrelenting danger. The opening sequence, a sudden attack on a fur-trapping expedition by a band of Arikara warriors, sets the tone for the entire film. It is a masterclass in chaotic, immersive action, shot with Lubezki’s signature long takes and fluid camera movements that place the viewer right in the midst of the carnage. The violence is swift and merciless, and there is little time to breathe as the survivors, including Glass and his son Hawk, scramble to escape the onslaught. This initial action scene not only establishes the hostile environment but also introduces the viewer to the film’s unflinching approach to violence and suffering, a theme that runs throughout the narrative.
DiCaprio’s performance as Hugh Glass is remarkable in its physicality and commitment. Stripped of the usual dialogue-heavy opportunities for emotional expression, DiCaprio instead conveys his character’s inner turmoil and determination through his physicality. Whether crawling through snow, wading through freezing rivers, or enduring the excruciating aftermath of a near-fatal bear attack, DiCaprio’s portrayal is rooted in the sheer endurance of his character. The infamous bear scene, in particular, is a horrifyingly realistic moment that leaves a lasting impression. The scene is a marvel of visual effects and choreography, but it is DiCaprio’s raw, primal reaction that anchors it in a terrifying reality. The prolonged assault, as the bear mauls and tosses Glass like a rag doll, is as brutal as it is unrelenting, leaving the audience to witness the fragility of human life in the face of nature’s indifference.
The physical trials DiCaprio endures on screen are matched by the emotional weight of Glass’s journey. After the bear attack, Glass is left on the verge of death, and his fellow trappers, under the leadership of Captain Andrew Henry (Domhnall Gleeson), must decide what to do with him. When it becomes clear that carrying him to safety is impossible, a decision is made to leave Glass behind with two men: the treacherous John Fitzgerald, played by Tom Hardy, and the younger, inexperienced Jim Bridger (Will Poulter). Hardy’s Fitzgerald is a morally complex antagonist, driven by survival instincts but lacking any moral compass. His decision to murder Glass’s son, Hawk, and abandon Glass in a shallow grave serves as the catalyst for Glass’s quest for vengeance. Hardy’s performance is one of the film’s highlights, as he embodies a character who is both repugnant and deeply human. Fitzgerald’s ruthlessness is not born out of pure malice, but from a selfish, primal urge to survive at any cost, making him a compelling and frighteningly real villain.
The landscapes of The Revenant play a central role in the film, almost becoming characters in their own right. Shot primarily in the wilderness of Canada and Argentina, the film’s natural settings are both breathtakingly beautiful and overwhelmingly hostile. Snow-covered forests, icy rivers, and towering mountains create a backdrop that is as majestic as it is unforgiving. Lubezki’s cinematography captures the grandeur of these landscapes with an almost reverential awe, using natural light to lend a haunting realism to the film’s visuals. Every frame of The Revenant feels meticulously crafted, with long takes that allow the audience to absorb the details of the environment while simultaneously conveying the relentless passage of time and the exhausting nature of Glass’s journey. The use of natural light also adds a layer of authenticity, as the changing quality of light—whether it be the golden glow of a sunset or the cold, blue hues of twilight—mirrors the shifting emotional landscape of the protagonist.
Nature in The Revenant is not merely a backdrop, but an active force that both challenges and sustains the characters. Glass’s survival is intricately tied to his ability to navigate this harsh, indifferent environment. Throughout the film, he is constantly battling the elements, whether it be crawling across frozen tundra, finding warmth in the carcass of a dead horse, or evading hostile Native American warriors. This interaction with the natural world highlights one of the film’s central themes: the raw struggle for survival. There is no room for sentimentality or hesitation in this world, where every decision can mean the difference between life and death. Glass’s survival is as much a testament to his knowledge of the land and its dangers as it is to his sheer willpower.
Iñárritu’s direction emphasizes the physical and psychological toll of Glass’s journey, often lingering on moments of quiet desperation. In one scene, Glass, weakened and alone, gazes up at the night sky, where the faint glow of the Northern Lights illuminates the heavens. It is a moment of transcendence in an otherwise brutal narrative, a reminder of the vastness of the universe and the insignificance of human suffering in the grand scheme of things. Such moments of visual poetry are scattered throughout the film, offering brief respites from the relentless brutality while also deepening the spiritual and existential undertones of the story.
The film’s pacing, however, is deliberately slow and methodical, reflecting the arduousness of Glass’s journey. For some viewers, this may result in a sense of narrative fatigue, as the film often lingers on Glass’s suffering for extended periods. The relentless focus on physical endurance and survival, while thematically consistent, can occasionally feel repetitive. Yet, this repetition serves to underscore the film’s central message: survival is not a momentary triumph but a continuous struggle. Glass’s journey is not about quick revenge or easy resolution; it is about enduring, no matter the cost.
In addition to its exploration of survival, The Revenant also delves into themes of vengeance, justice, and the cyclical nature of violence. Glass’s quest for revenge against Fitzgerald is the driving force behind much of the narrative, but as the film progresses, it becomes clear that this revenge may not provide the closure Glass seeks. The film does not glorify vengeance; instead, it presents it as a hollow, ultimately unsatisfying pursuit. When Glass finally confronts Fitzgerald, the encounter is brutal and intense, but the resolution is left ambiguous, suggesting that true justice is elusive in such a savage world. This moral ambiguity is one of the film’s strengths, as it refuses to provide easy answers or neat conclusions.
The depiction of Native Americans in The Revenant adds another layer of complexity to the film. The Arikara, who are searching for a kidnapped daughter, play a significant role in the story, and their presence serves as a reminder of the broader context of colonization and displacement that frames the film’s narrative. Iñárritu portrays the Native characters with respect and nuance, avoiding the simplistic “noble savage” trope that often pervades Westerns. Instead, the Arikara are depicted as complex, fully realized individuals, motivated by their own struggles for survival in a rapidly changing world. The film’s exploration of the tension between European settlers and Native Americans adds a historical dimension to the story, grounding the personal vendettas of the characters within a larger context of cultural conflict and colonial violence.
The score, composed by Ryuichi Sakamoto and Alva Noto, complements the film’s stark visuals with haunting, minimalist compositions. The music is sparse and often barely noticeable, allowing the natural sounds of the environment—wind, water, fire—to dominate the soundscape. When the score does emerge, it heightens the emotional intensity of key moments without overpowering them. The restrained use of music reflects the film’s overall aesthetic, which relies more on visual storytelling and atmospheric immersion than on conventional dramatic cues.
