Weekly Review -- Soul in wilderness

The Rover (2014) -- There are not many films dealing with post-cataclysmic Earth that turn away from action when exploring their narratives. Those that do occasionally reward us with deep reflections on human nature and relationships, but also with stories about situations that might well be timeless. David Michôd's The Rover is one of these films, a piece that employs visceral altercations to shock the audience, before turning its objective upside down and punching the viewer in the gut.     

**THIS REVIEW CONTAINS HUGE SPOILERS, INCLUDING ENDING SPOILERS**

In a post-apocalyptic Australia, Eric (Guy Pearce) is a loner whose car is his sole possession. When it gets stolen by one of many ruthless gangs, Eric intends to keep searching for it until he can take it back, happening upon the gang leader's wounded brother (Robert Pattinson) along the way. Wandering the bleak landscape and engaging in survivalist violence, the pair manage to forge a quasi-friendship...

From an almost complete lack of music composed by Antony Partos to Natasha Braier's grim cinematography, The Rover is a slice of life that none of us would wish to experience. Its portrayal of a world at a standstill and humanity at an all-time low is uncompromising, peppered by images that feel like postcards from hell. In this context, Eric is an undefined narrator as much as he is an unreliable one. We think that he might be a good guy simply because minding one's own business is the morality standard here, until he shoots someone in the head without flinching. As we learn that this dystopia only tolerates survival and survivalism, we can see that Eric is forced to do what he does and that, after his losses, he is a shell of the man that he used to be.

And this knowledge leads us to one of the most thoughtful and relevant cinematic endings that I have seen in years.

Once we see the reason why Eric has gone after his car, we understand his motivation and his intentions. In the process of burying his dog's body, Eric is showing mercy reserved for the creature, a compassion that he had lost for people a long time ago and one that they had long not been entitled to. Furthermore, with this single act, he is refusing to allow the wasteland of today to destroy the virtue of yesterday. He is taking a stand against the desensitized world the only way he knows how, while also saying goodbye to the last remnant of his earlier -- or previous -- life. His decency, as buried as it is in the muck of killing and stealing and who knows what else, is still there. Hope is still there and will always exist, as long as we are alive.    

The film shows us why Pearce is one of the best actors out there. Much of the screenplay relies on the physical aspects of performances, and the actor conveys Eric's unyielding demeanor though facial expressions and body language for most of the film. Pearce weaves Eric's potential breakdown moments into a trajectory of toughened pragmatism and unruly intensity, creating a broken yet undefeated figure. As a gang leader's vulnerable brother, Pattinson is a true revelation, playing possibly the only character whose soul might retain a shred of innocence. The two men's differences are brought forth through a great chemistry that the actors share, as well as through the situations that they are forced into by sheer circumstance. 

The Rover is a beautiful paradox of pure savagery and pure love. It does not back down from showing the greatest cruelties that people are capable of, but it never separates them from the righteousness that is ingrained in our DNA. While desperate situations may push people to resort to desperate measures, there is always a reason behind the agony, always a need to move forward and forever the promise of a new sunrise.        

9/10