Into the Wild

A lot of Penn’s choices as a director don’t really thrill me. Almost without exception, it bugs me when directors force the camera to emulate a character’s state of mind, like going fuzzy, shaky, and slo-mo when a character is intoxicated. If Emile Hirsch can’t show us that he’s going mad from starvation (and actually, he does just fine!) the camera shouldn’t make up the difference. Lots of little fancybits: split frames and picture-in-picture, characters looking straight at the camera but making no self-referential point, stuff like that. Stuff that leaps out at one because it’s out of the norm, but serves no purpose in the film, and so stands out as a glaring demerit. Less capable directors can make ok films just by staying quiet. Give Penn credit for putting his stamp on it, I guess.

It’s clear, though, that Penn has a lot of passion for McCandless’ story and the wilderness landscapes the young man journeys through, and I am glad my biggest fear was not realized: that this passion would translate into a destructive sort of hero-worship. No, enough characters are in place to question his motives and sanity that although Chris himself doesn’t learn the ultimate lesson behind his quest until it’s too late to reap the benefits, the audience has room to judge for itself all along. Although much of the presentation irks me (I also didn’t care for the episodic structure), ultimately I found this to be a deeply moving film, particularly as I suppose I learned a similar lesson myself around Chris’ age, thankfully after less trying experiences: that happiness is not real unless it is shared.