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Ladies Behind Lenses: Kelly Reichardt – Meek’s Cutoff

Ladies Behind Lenses is a column that explores films directed, produced, and written by women who are kicking ass within the male-centric world of cinema.


Kelly Reichardt is an uncompromising force in film and fierce pioneer within the indie cinema club (primarily dominated by men) – yeah that’s a bold statement but too true. Since her debut, River of Grass, she has cemented herself has one of the most distinctive voices in independent cinema. While most working indie filmmakers circle around the idea of eventually selling their soul to the Hollywood machine; Reichardt has, in her nearly twenty years of work, consistently stayed true to her run and gun style. Though her films have gone up in scale and budget (minimally so), her artistic integrity to the material hasn’t wavered. She’s just not that kind of filmmaker. Drawn to stories of marginalized characters and enigmatic wanderers lost in space, Reichardt’s fourth film, Meek’s Cutoff, was a slight departure from her first two films, delving in genre territory and tackling grander themes.

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The self-proclaimed ‘Desert Poem’ opens with long sweeping shots of a group of settlers languidly roaming the western landscape. Like most of her films, Meek’s Cutoff doesn’t have a beginning or an end really; instead it offers a peek into the lives of people just passing through. Set in the mid 1800s, we follow settlers lost in the parched land of Oregon as they trek to find some sort of Promised Land.  Their guide through this harrowing journey is Stephen Meek, an insufferable man who claims to know a shortcut through the Cascade Mountains, but somehow turns a two-week journey into five long weeks. As their supplies are dwindling and tension rises they decide that Meek is evil and will hang him if they do not find their way soon.  However, dynamics shift when they cross paths with a Native American along their route. Roles become reversed and their fate becomes more uncertain than ever. Should they trust their seemingly unreliable guide or the Native American who has always been seen as the natural enemy?

Reichardt’s film, while visually stunning, doesn’t romanticize the western landscape. Instead its stark realism offers a different kind of striking poetry to the harsh terrain. True to ‘Reichardt form’ dialogue is often substituted for visual language. The film’s scant dialogue is convincing in the fact that the settlers stand at the brink of death so every word spoken only furthers their exhaustion. The words they do speak are concise and blunt –barren like the landscape they are wandering through.

However, the most fascinating aspect of Reichardt’s austere piece is the way it subverts the established masculine western genre (which are few and far between!). The female driven western is led by Emily Tetherow (Michelle Williams), who is driven by her persistence of being and of survival which pushes her to take action. Emily is the only one who attempts to set up some kind of communication with the Native American and we see the exchanges with him through her gaze. In fact, every decision made in making the film was made through the perspective of the women. Even the 1:33:1 aspect ratio of the film, which is quite unusual for a ‘western’ (usually shown in a much wider perspective) was directly informed through the eyes of women in the 1800s. Bonnets were an important part of women’s wardrobe and were not just treated as a piece of ‘costume’ in the film but an extension of the characters. Reichardt explains her process here:

“I felt like the square [aspect ratio] gave you an idea of the closed view that the women have because of their bonnets,” Reichardt says. “You’d be traveling in this big community where you’d never have privacy. But also, it’s a really lonely journey. And I think cutting out the peripheral, it does leave you with the idea that something could be there that you don’t know about — and so it offers that kind of tension.” – Kelly Reichardt in her interview with NPR.

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Emily’s attempts to form a connection with the Native American, however, are met with silence. We see the man make drawings / markings along their route and we don’t know if he is indeed leading them to water or to their death. Meek’s Cutoff doesn’t offer any resolutions or clear-cut answers (which can be infuriating for some – just look up some of the angry Amazon reviews); instead what Reichardt offers us is an experience. The film imparts to us an understanding of being lost and uncertain of your future and of those around you. It’s exactly this ambiguity that propels the film forward and leaves us feeling spellbound.

Watch the trailer to Meek’s Cutoff  below:

Film Column by Ida Yazdi. Find her online at @idaym.



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