We’re at a weird point in movie history in which lost souls in need of a spiritual journey take a physical journey. I would have guessed we desire our cultural metaphors to be a little more clandestine, like at least Rocky subtle, but judging by our collective tolerance for Into the Wild, The Way, Wild, etc., I think we’re ok with this.
Cheryl Strayed (Reese Witherspoon) lost her mother at a young age. She turned to alcohol, drugs, sex, and several other clichés to fill her void. She divorced Paul (Thomas Sadoski) and they got matching tattooes as a memento. That’s a new one for me. I guess I’m always happier about couples who split amiably. Upon divorce, Cheryl also acquired the surname “Strayed,” which is equally as subtle as the journey metaphor.
Having exhausted every last dollar and bad idea at her disposal, Cheryl has decided to purge her soul of evil, grief and substance abuse by walking the entirety of the 1,100 mile Pacific Crest Trail from the Mexican border through desert and mountain and up to Canada. As this she-version of the Christopher McCandless tale is biographical, I kept wondering if the real Cheryl intended for this to be a weight-loss venture as well – I know she doesn’t have three months worth of food in that pack.
And food is a concern, often, on this trip. The first day is an acute view of Hell – Cheryl has begun at the Mojave Desert. To be kind, she’s a rank amateur hiker. Her pack is enormous and too heavy for her. Her shoes don’t fit. Before long, her shoulders, arms, feet, ankles all sport the angry marks of chafing and overwork. Her shelter is complicated. She’s brought the wrong fuel for her cooking gear; thus, her intended meals of “hot mush” become meals of “cold mush.” Thumbs up to Reese and the real Cheryl – it looks as if she’s not going to last 1,100 seconds on the trail, much less 1,100 miles. OTOH, it’s summer in the Mojave Desert – I mean, I know she’s only doing five
miles a day and she’s not a man, but she does sweat, right? Let’s see it. Let me get more of a feel than just the blisters and stragers telling her “you need a bath.”
Wild is the kind of film where you choose to take whatever meesage you want to from it. Those rooting for Cheryl will applaud her strength and perserverance. Those searching for a sense of self will applaud her journey. R.E.I. executives will applaud quality customer service. Personally, what I took from Wild was the idea that a single woman shouldn’t go anywhere alone, ever. Even among the granola crowd, apparently, ya can’t trust nobody. Every man, no matter how bad he smells, thinks he has something to offer, and aggressive behavior is tempered only by the wolf’s companion. It sucks to imagine you need a lethal weapon to go on a hike. A spiritual journey really shouldn’t require a firearm.
Cheryl tried her hand out of doors
In order to collect and heal sores
Her menace is clear
The wol-ves to fear
Are not the ones who tread on all fours
Rated R, 115 Minutes
D: Jean-Marc Vallée
W: Nick Hornby, Cheryl Strayed
Genre: In search of …
Type of person most likely to enjoy this film: Drifter wannabes
Type of person least likely to enjoy this film: Single women
