In this week’s Two Cents, we close out our Women of the West series with Kelly Reichardt’s experimental endurance test that reframes the Western as a patriarchal power struggle
Two Cents is a Cinapse original column akin to a book club for films. The Cinapse team curates the series and contribute their “two cents” using a maximum of 200-400 words. Guest contributors and comments are encouraged, as are suggestions for future picks. Join us as we share our two cents on films we love, films we are curious about, and films we believe merit some discussion. Would you like to be a guest contributor or programmer for an upcoming Two Cents entry? Simply watch along with us and/or send your pitches or 200-400 word reviews to [email protected].
The Pick: Meek’s Cutoff (2010)
It feels oddly fitting that, for a series full of various fantastical visions of Women in the West, we close on a film that brings us crashing back to reality–a standout not just due to its meditative tone and exacting period authenticity, but the sole film in our series directed by a woman. Kelly Reichardt’s Meek’s Cutoff reframes the Western as a hell of an endurance test, transforming the trials of the Oregon Trail into a physical and psychological gauntlet ripped from Werner Herzog’s Aguirre: The Wrath of God. The iconic patriarchy-upending heroism of Jane Fonda, Sharon Stone, and Joan Crawford clash so deeply against the sparse, bitter words of Michelle Williams, Shirley Henderson, and Zoe Kazan, women trapped in the roles thrust upon them as caretakers of the trail as the men in their lives lead them hubristically into dangerous territory.
Yet, as the Oregon desert stretches on, we see how the resilience of these three women reflects how the tenacity of Pioneer women may have inspired the other heroines we’ve seen in this series. Intimate yet epic, Meek’s Cutoff is one of my favorite films about Women of the West–and I was excited to see what others on the Two Cents team thought about Kelly Reichardt’s bold take on Westerns.
Featured Guests
Meek’s Cutoff starts with slow steady drips of action filtered beautifully through Kelly Reichardt’s director’s eye. We open with a scene that wouldn’t be out of place in the early PC game Oregon Trail: a wagon train moving across an unnamed river in its slow trek towards whatever awaits the weary travelers, heading west no matter the cost.
Michelle Williams heads up the cast as Emily Tetherow. She is supported superbly by Zoe Kazan, Paul Dano, Shirley Henderson, Will Patton, Rod Rondeau, Neal Huff, and Bruce Greenwood, who is nearly unrecognizable under a long mane of hair and a thick scraggly beard.
Reichardt’s story isn’t covered with the usual overly macho trappings of the spaghetti westerns that litter this cinematic landscape, which are more concerned with reinforcing outdated ways of thinking via the visceral thrill of a climactic action-filled massacre. She is much more interested in the West as it really was, dispelling the old West’s myths and deconstructing the white hat archetype, here more adept at telling tall tales than they are actually at accomplishing these epic tales of bravery and bloodshed.
The film lets everyone in the cast excel. Greenwood has a moment early on spinning a yarn about a bear encounter to the youngest member of the wagon train, played by Tommy Nelson. Patton is sturdy throughout, never letting his scenes get lost in bluster. Williams, the marquee topper, obviously plays her role with her usual restrained brilliance. Kazan and Dano work well off each other the shorthand from their real-life union giving a believability to their performances. Rod Rondeaux imbues his indigenous character with a stoic intensity, calling to mind Wes Studi, Graham Greene, and Zahn McClarnon. Shirley Henderson is also solid as is Huff, who plays her husband.
Meek’s Cutoff is an excellent new school Western. It’s clear from the beginning Reichardt is more concerned with the seemingly mundane decisions of daily life in the old West than she is with the gunplay of your typical Western. She paints a beautiful portrait of the fragility of human existence against the inhospitable backdrop of the American West, and those facing that harsh landscape.
(@BradMilne79 on X)
The Team
So many aspects of Meek’s Cutoff struck so deeply this go around, namely how the idealism we associate with the West–the promise of riches, freedom, a new life–can quickly turn into a sunk-cost exercise in faith when faced with the crushing blows of life in the wild. Reichardt begins with the normal doldrums of Oregon Trail life–fording oxen, gathering water, trudging the trail. She also begins with a harsh, unsparing glimpse of social hierarchy: while these three families all face the grueling quest on an even keel, it’s clear that the women’s suspicions they should turn back and join a more established trail will come secondary to their spouses’ egotistic drive to push forward. Bruce Greenwood, unrecognizable under cascades of bushy grey beard, draws an unintentional parallel to current political leaders as he boasts of past exploits, is pointlessly confident in his belief that they’re not lost, and when situations get dire, finds ways to corral his group through racial-driven hate and otherization.
All this machismo, though, quickly evaporates much like their dwindling water supply–as it becomes painfully clear that these men’s confidence is all they have left to keep them from the brink. It’s a grueling experience, though, that allows the film’s heroines to grow, seizing their agency where they can. Williams, Henderson, and Kazan may not rob banks or engage in quick-draw shootouts, but their quiet acts of defiance raise just as much comparative hell in the desolate expanse of the desert. They voice their doubts in Meek’s leadership, then in their spouses as they call out their husbands’ endlessly shifting goalposts that form the basis of their decisions to move forward rather than admit defeat and danger. The transformation of Williams’ Emily, though, is the film’s most radical–as her racial prejudice and fear of Rod Rondeaux’s Cayuse man, stoked by Meek’s vulgar threats, gives way to a transactional mutual support and eventually to a united empathy through their shared pointless trek through the wilderness.
At some point, something’s got to give–hope and hate can only fuel people for so long. And it’s so fascinating to see how Reichardt applies her signature muted yet psychologically dense filmmaking style to a story that other filmmakers would mine for other action-driven potential. It’s Sergio Leone by way of Werner Herzog–tense as hell and so damn bleak. Yet, against all odds, Reichardt’s heroines find an empathetic and courageous spark within themselves that overpowers the social and gender roles thrust upon them. Even with the film’s unsettling ambiguous ending, with no clear promises of what path to take–the fact that Emily and her fellow travelers have put an end to their misguided trailblazing is a momentous act of progress.
(@Gambit1138 on Xitter)
Admittedly my favorite Reichardt historical western is her First Cow (2019). The silent wandering of Meek’s Cutoff is harder to stick out. But what’s more traditionally American than a bunch of white folks being led by a white man who has no clue what he’s doing? Michelle Williams heads up the cast, and in time, her character eventually finds her voice. However, most of the film, the exhausted wives are expected to be led by their husbands and support the terrible decision they made to break off from a larger group of settlers and follow bearded braggart Stephen Meek (Bruce Greenwood) through Oregon desert.
The landscape is deceptively beautiful, dry and dusty. It’s a fine purgatory for this small crew of settlers brainwashed by the era of Manifest Destiny. In this second viewing (my first was at AFS Cinema some years ago), the racist comments stood out in particular. From Meek’s blatant ravings about his supposed run-ins with assorted tribes to the more insidious every-day remarks of the settlers to one another (“that’s mighty white of you,” the women complaining about being treated like n-words, etc.), Jonathan Raymond’s screenplay leaves no doubt as to the white supremacist beliefs of these characters. And that’s before we get to their treatment of the Indigenous man (Rod Rondeaux) they meet in the desert and take hostage.
Anyone raised on the Oregon Trail video game might expect a decent amount of action, snakebite and/or dysentery in a film about the period. Reichardt’s picture tends more towards a cerebral journey; I’d forgotten just how slow it moves. Although loosely based on historical events, Meek’s Cutoff leaves things open-ended, letting the viewer make up their minds about how things might have turned out for the group. If one has the patience for it, the film is a harsh, non-sugarcoated depiction of a bit of American history.
(elizs on Bluesky)
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