Camping: a dream to some. . . a nightmare to others! For all of the beautiful vistas, calm lakes, and age-old trees that bring you closer to nature, the nights are the pitchest of blacks, hiding not only mosquitos the size of vampire bats (that hover around looking for a scrumptious meal), but also a throng of wild animals that lurk in the shadows – only their glowing eyes seen in the ominous dark. . . and soon, once you’ve meandered off the beaten track, those towering hardwoods all start to look the same. No one can hear you scream when you’re in the middle of nowhere. . . okay, perhaps laying it on a bit thick, but this is the basic premise of the high reaching, low budget 2014 Canadian horror tinged dramatic thriller, Backcountry.
Written and directed by first time filmmaker Adam MacDonald, he transports us to a provincial park in northern Ontario during the last days of autumn. The rush is over, people have returned to the big city, but young couple Alex (Jeff Roop) and Jenn (Missy Peregrym) are making the trek to the picturesque natural locale before it closes for the winter. The stomping grounds of Alex for many a summer, it is not high on the to-do list for urban-loving Jenn – a cell-phone addicted lawyer. So confident is Alex that he tells the Park Ranger (Nicholas Campbell) that he does not need a map. . . the employee also informs the camper that the lake he was planning on bringing his gal to is off limits (as kids have been sneaking up there and partying – destroying the pristine, unpolluted loch. . . expect a grand in fines if caught – the horrors of government rules and regulations).
After a canoe ride (Alex drops it on his foot – a portent of things to come), they hit one of the main paths, seeing a few stragglers along the way. While setting up camp for the evening, a long haired guy pops up out of nowhere. Carrying a load of fresh fish, he introduces himself as Brad (Eric Balfour), a supposed off-the-track tour guide. Spending an awkwardly ominous night around the campfire with them, he finally departs, leaving a queer feeling in the air.
Ignoring the Ranger’s advisory, Alex takes the pair off the beaten path, leading his inexperienced girlfriend to his favourite spot. It is a challenging hike, with the leaf-strewn ground being impeded by fallen trees and overgrown brush, while slippery rock faces only add extra challenges to the lengthy terrain that must be covered. When Alex finally thinks they have reached the elusive spot, they soon learn that they are on top of a rock face, completely lost.
A gripping relationship tale, it aptly highlights the vast differences between men and women, an insightful look into human nature. Alex is brash and overly confident, eager to impress his ‘never been camping’ girl. He cockily pushes away the map, ignoring the Ranger’s warnings. . . further complicating things, he keeps silent when he notices a bear track on their way – leading them deeper and deeper into the great outdoors. At the opposite end of the spectrum, Jenn is ultra careful, packing flares, bear spray and other hopefully-not-necessary commodities on her first trip to the back country. Small indicators are slowly unveiled – Alex is much lower in the social stratosphere than Jenn (though he is trying to start a new business); Jenn states that this is the first time Alex has ever made her breakfast in bed; Alex may not know the area of the park he has taken them to quite as well as he claims. As they make their way further from civilization, the masks they wear in society are let down, and less than subtle barbs seep out of their mouths, long festering frustrations oozing to the surface like a freshly realized wound – the unfamiliar natural setting bringing out their subconsciously held animosity.
In a subtle yet great moment of female empowerment, after the couple have quarrelled (never reaching their destination and both completely aware that they are lost), Jenn takes the lead during their descent. . . for the first time not trailing Alex. Intriguingly, the couple are almost never shown beside each other (unless they are setting up camp or sleeping – further suggesting a divide, some strife, perhaps even a lack of compatibility in their relationship).
Subtle with severe moments of violence, Backcountry utilizes its setting to its advantage. Never going to ludicrous levels (it often feels like these man versus nature films should be relegated to the fantasy heap), MacDonald tinkers with sound (is it falling acorns or something more ominous?), the darkness (is that a raccoon rustling in those trees?), and the suspense that time brings with it, building a palpable dread in the stifling fall forest. No need to bear with me any longer, grab the bare necessities (picnic basket not required) and watch this indie picture – you’ll be glad you skipped that camping trip.