If the last Alejandro González Iñárritu film you watched was 2014’s darkly hilarious and very playful Birdman, you’re initially likely to feel a little thrown by the director’s newest big-screen offering, “frontier epic” The Revenant. The longer you stay with the film, however, the more similarities you begin to see between it and Birdman, and indeed much of Iñárritu’s prior works—namely an apparent desire to test the resilience of both actors and audience with filmmaking characterised by an intensity and tension that he manages to sustain for longer than you’d think possible. 

This strategy can work wonders when coupled with the right material—as was the case with Birdman—but which could easily prove wearying when phoned in as little more than a gimmick. The Revenant—based on Michael Punke’s 2002 novel, itself a fictional reimagining of the exploits of the real-life American frontiersman Hugh Glass, who was something of a folk legend for, among other things, being mauled by a bear and living to tell the story—thankfully manages, just about, to err on the side of the former. Designed as an ode to human endurance, the film might not hit the kind of emotional notes one wishes it did, besides a couple of other narrative flaws, but it does take your breath away, time and again, with sheer visual extravagance—making for what is a harrowing but at the same time very immersive experience.

The film is set in 1823, in what were then the frigid wilds of Midwest America. It opens with the large company of fur-trappers that Glass (Leonardo Di Caprio) is working for—under Captain Henry (Domhnall Gleeson)—being ambushed by a tribe of natives or the “Rees”, in which a lot of Henry’s men are felled. The few surviving hunters escape to the river forced to find an alternate route back home, now fully dependent on Glass, who fortunately happens to have 

a pretty good grasp of the land. 

Glass, you see, has been living among the local Pawnees for a while now, speaking their tongue and even falling for one of the women, after whose death he has been raising their young son Hawk (Forrest Goodluck), who is accompanying 

him on this trip, on his own. Though most of the men don’t mind the mixed-race boy, one of the trappers, John Fitzgerald (Tom Hardy), has nothing but contempt for man and son, and makes no attempt to couch his feelings.

Ignoring Fitzgerald as best he can, Glass focuses on mapping out a route. But while out scouting on one occasion, he is hit up by a giant grizzly—an attack he survives, but just barely. Slashed to the bone in some places, his body is a bloodied mess by the time the others find him. They set about carrying him along on a stretcher, but the effort proves just too much given the harsh terrain and weather. Henry decides the team must split up, and leaves Glass—rather foolishly—in the hands of Fitzgerald and the young Jim Bridger (Will Poulter), instructing them to care for him and give him a respectful burial should he die. Respect, though, is the last thing on Fitzgerald’s mind, and almost as soon as the rest of the company is out of earshot, he and Bridger hotfoot it out of there, abandoning Glass in the freezing cold in the middle of nowhere. Little do they know, however, the man isn’t about to give in that easily. Resourceful, and spurred by the betrayal, we watch as he picks himself up, bit by bit, simultaneously battling the punishing landscape, the many dangers scattered therein and the limitations of his own body; it is Glass’ painful bid to stay alive—and exact vengeance on those who left him behind—that takes up the rest of the film. 

I cannot stress enough on how truly stunning The Revenant is to look at. Iñárritu collaborates with cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezki, who also did Birdman, as well as Alfonso Cuarón’s Gravity some years ago. Shot in various locations in Canada, Argentina and the US, the film revelsin ravishing vista after vista, a world of blinding, frosty whites, deep greens and glassy silvers, brutal and beautiful all at once.Although it doesn’t go for anything as obvious as Birdman’s one-take conceit, it does punch in a number of long, uninterrupted shots throughout, and a few offbeat surprises, such as when an actor’s breath fogs up the camera, effectively breaking the fourth wall. 

The film’s achievements are even more impressive considering the sparing use of CGI—the outdoor photography was reportedly all done in natural light, and the realism comes through, particularly refreshing at a time when a lot of movies rely on digitally-crafted landscapes; you can tell, there’s just really no comparison. And the few occasions on which CGI does make inroads into the film, it’s used to grand effect—nothing I say, for instance, can ever prepare you for the visceral ordeal that is the bear attack. 

The plot itself, however, is fairly basic, and somber, perhaps, to a fault. In trying to depict just how relentless the wilderness can be, and how we are but small specks against the fearsome vastness of the natural world, Iñárritu often loses track of his human subjects. Yes, we are certainly invested in Glass’ struggle, but only because the film is able to depict the physicality of his trials so convincingly—on a purely sensory level—not because we relate to him as a person. It’s not that efforts have not been made in that regard: the addition of the son, who didn’t actually exist in real life, was a clear attempt to render Glass more sympathetic, separate him from the other rough men of his trade, and give his mission an emotional core. But it’s precisely that element, and the general heavy-handed romanticisation of the native-American culture—something the movies have been doing forever—that comprise The Revenant’s least effective bits. Particularly tedious are the mystical flashbacks featuring Glass’ lover, in which subtlety levels drop to absolute zero. 

Given this context, and the minimal dialogue, what is demanded of the actors then is not acting as such, but rather feats of bodily exertion, and DiCaprio has accepted the challenge head on, dragging himself through snow and mud and 

into icy waters and over rocky cliffs to give us a performance that feels like a long, exhausting, nightmarish cross-country marathon. It’s not, however, the sort of intricate character portraits we’ve seen him put up before. In fact, he is consistently outshone by Hardy, who is so grizzled and sporting such a thick accent as to be almost unrecognisable, but who—despite the rather one-tone villain he’s being made to play—often feels like the only real human in the film. 

The Revenant might hit some noticeable hitches when it comes to the actual plotline and characters, and what emotional drama has been tagged on doesn’t always ring sincere. But the film is chock full of such gorgeous, dazzling imagery in general and a few truly jaw-dropping sequences that you might—like me—be willing to forgive it its narrative shortcomings, and just give in to the experience that Iñárritu and his cast and crew have so painstakingly created. There might not be much substance to the story, but you’ll have your eyes glued to the screen till the very end. There’s definitely something to be said for that.