Ravenous (1999)

Rating: R

Run Time: 101 minutes

Director: Antonia Bird

Starring: Guy Pearce, Robert Carlyle, David Arquette

“Eat Me.”

As I anticipated watching Ravenous, after having read several positive reviews of the film, I was not expecting a comedy at all.  Or black comedy, for that matter.  Now, I really don’t know what black comedy is, but my working definition fits closely with films where weird shit happens and people get violently killed and you’re not really sure whether you’re supposed to be laughing or not.  I’d prefer to err on the side of imbecilic frivolity and laugh and that’s usually what I do.  I laughed out loud several times during Ravenous.  But the moments of horror were there also, sitting very comfortably beside the humor, and those parts were genuinely…well, horrific, while the concept and themes of the film itself are most certainly disturbing. 

So maybe it’s a horror-comedy.  Like good horror-comedy (and I can think of a handful of movies I think are good exemplars of the subgenre), the film walks the tightrope between its laughs and shocks, and sometimes, as many another reviewer has already pointed out, those moments are often the same.  In fact, sometimes I laughed, paused, thought about it, and then got a little freaked out, either by the fact that I had laughed or because I had reinterpreted what I first heard.

We open with a military ceremony wherein a medal of bravery is being presented to Captain John Boyd (Guy Pearce, a guy who is really too good-looking for his own good) for his extraordinary bravery in single-handedly capturing an entire enemy garrison during the Mexican-American War.  We learn in scene snippets and Pearce’s voiceover explanation to those who question how he accomplished this that it was an original act of cowardice that enabled him to even be in a position to do such a thing, however.  We also learn something Boyd does not tell his inquisitors: his body, along with the corpses of his comrade soldiers, was piled high on an open wagon and driven into the enemy compound.  Captain Boyd’s body was on the very bottom and the blood of his superior officer steadily dripped and flowed down into his mouth.  The blood seems to act as a bravery elixir of sorts that temporarily imparts to him the foolhardy courage he uses to such good effect.

Once he learns how Boyd effected his escape, General Slauson (John Spencer, miscast in a ridiculous George Custer makeup) expresses his unequivocal disgust at such unmanly behavior and thereafter banishes him to a remote outpost in the Sierra Nevadas called Fort Spencer.  This military post is, in temperate climes, a conduit between lands on the road west to California.  In the winter, however, there remains only a small number of men to hold it (a skelton crew, if you will).  Among them are Colonel  Hart (the stalwart Jeffrey Jones), the slightly effete intellectual who commands the garrison; Major Knox (Stephen Spinella), who is an incorrigible drunk; Private Reich (Neal McDonough), a bit of a nut but unquestionably courageous to a fault; Private Toffler (Jeremy Davies), a religious zealot who mumbles; Private Cleaves (David Arquette, who always irritates the shit out of me), who is an incorrigible pothead (don’t ask); and the brother and sister pair of Native Americans who have been a fixture at the fort for years and who perform essentially anything required of them, George (Joseph Runningfox) and Martha (Sheila Tousey).

Very soon after Boyd’s arrival, after Martha and Cleaves have been sent away for some reason I do not remember and Knox has passed out drunk from his bourbon, Boyd and Hart are sharing some of the same (the bourbon, that is) when an apparition appears at the window.  They investigate and find outside in the brutal winter weather a man who is barely alive, a victim of the intense cold and frostbite.  They tend to him as best they can but seem to hold out little hope for the poor bastard.  In the morning, however, he has made an incredible recovery and does not seem to suffer any lasting effects of the frostbite.

This man, who calls himself Reverend Colqhoun (Robert Carlyle), weaves a harrowing tale of near starvation and cannibalism that echoes very closely the tale of the Donner-Reed Party.  The villain of his story is the man who was leading the party, a Colonel Ives.  According to Colqhoun, the first casualty was due to malnourishment.  Loath to waste such a gift, and before you can say, “Hey, do you want the wing?,” the party found themselves eating the man.  After this, Ives began to expedite things a bit, it would seem, until the only remaining members of the original party of six were Ives, Colqhoun himself, and the wife of one of the other pioneers (an Irishwoman, I think).  Well, one night by the firelight while Ives was probably sizing up who was next on the menu, Colqhoun decides to make like Casper and get the hell out of there.  Which leads to our present scene.

Colonel Hart immediately decides, against all reason, that an effort must be made to rescue the woman.  Surprisingly, no one disagrees.  Hart, Boyd, Toffler, Reich, George, and Colqhoun all set out for the cave where the Reverend says the party were forced to take refuge.  When they arrive, a very tense scene unfolds as Boyd and Reich enter the cave to investigate.  The two men enter a subterranean part of the cave and discover the remains of five victims.  Hmmm…

I don’t want to reveal any more of the plot of this movie.  I otherwise endorse it wholeheartedly.  It is superbly acted and much of the writing is brilliant.  Guy Pearce is a very good actor and Jeffrey Jones is always excellent, but Robert Carlyle steals the movie.  He seizes the Colonel Ives role and does not relent.  He doesn’t overact; I’m not trying to imply that at all.  His performance accents the horror-comedy dichotomy:  he is equally frightening and funny.  It is a great performance.

Antonia Bird directs this with such an assured hand, it is surprising to hear about what a troubled production history this movie had; she worked out wonderfully (I think it was Carlyle’s idea to get her).  Although I am not always a fan of the discovery of incidental symbolism in movies, there are so many distinct metaphorical levels present here upon which the movie may be validly commenting either consciously or otherwise that are inescapable, that the film hits one of my criteria for a great film: it bears repeated viewing, not only because it is enjoyable but because I think I will need to see it again to fully tease out and articulate those potential meanings.   

The question of what constitutes bravery is directly raised several times during the movie, and the actions of every other member of the fort’s establishment are shown in direct relief to those of Boyd, and those actions are almost without exception selflessly brave, foolishly so, perhaps, but brave all the same.  Yet in the end, Boyd, who is certainly a coward, acts with extreme moral courage in choosing his destiny.                 

In the end, let me say this: Antonia Bird is like the anti-Franklin J. Schaffner.  The screenplay and direction skewer and shred our notions of manhood, virility, and machismo.  It pokes fun at every red-blooded American’s love of meat-eating and implies a metaphorical connection between cannibalism and American consumerism and acquisitiveness.  The ultimate consumer is the consumer of human flesh, who, like the Wendigo of which the film speaks, derives strength from its nutrition because he not only eats the man but the soul of the man as well. 

The Horror Inkwell Rating: 8/10