There is a scene during the first half of Into the Wild where Chris McCandless, played by Emile Hirsch, visibly breaks down the fourth wall, a la Zack Morris or Ferris Bueller. He is talking to and eating an apple when he leans into the camera, essentially winking and acknowledging its presence. As a directorial decision, it is a fascinating one. It conveys that McCandless almost knew the book Into the Wild, and later, the movie, were going to come to be as a result of his journies. It's a "Look how much fun I'm having" stylistic choice, and, aside from utterly endearing the viewer to McCandless/Hirsch, it essentially invalidates McCandless's entire ostensible rationale for, well, "going wild." McCandless struck out into the forests and deserts with the goal of disassociating himself from society and ending his dependence on others and vice versa. And yet, in a single wink, director Sean Penn reveals that this is but a disillusioned experiment, and that throughout, McCandless is still in need of the company of others. And if that wasn't enough, McCandless's final journal entry--"Happiness only real when shared"--rips off the facade. Before he dies, he reclaims his memories and his birth name for himself, rendering final verdict on his neo-Luddite, anti-society quest.
This film was brilliant. I actually wasn't the hugest fan of Krakauer's book, but that could have been because I read it for a class and under a deadline--an environment in which most books suck enormously. Here, however, everything is on point: Emile Hirsch is simply awesome, not just in this role but in general; Eddie Vedder's soundtrack is absolutely essential--without it, the film would be lacking something vital; Sean Penn's cinematography and wildlife shots are amazing; and a variety of bitparts by Kristen Stewart, Catherine Keener, Vince Vaughn, Hal Holbrook, et. al. are striking in their diversity but equally welcome in their warmth and, to borrow a phrase, their organicness. The whole thing, all one hundred and forty-five minutes of it, is very chill. Aside from some physical and emotional skirmishes between McCandless's parents and a rough beating that he takes from a semi-cop, the film is thoroughly peaceful, and a delight to watch. I'm surprised Hirsch did not pick up an Oscar nod for this; he was certainly no Daniel Plainview, but nonetheless this was a most deserving performance.
My only "qualm," perhaps, is that Penn portrays McCandless's journey in too favorable and benign a light. I finished watching Into the Wild and started immediately looking for my sleeping bag and canteen (both of which I discovered do not exist currently, if they ever existed at all). But strutting out into the, um, wild, and going au natural and anti-establishment isn't exactly a walk in the park. Life must have fucking sucked for him for many of those nights. But in the film, his life looks like an endless camping trip turned up to eleven. Which I presume is necessary to maintain the McCandlessian aura, but perhaps rather deceptive when you get down to brass tacks.
