'Hold the Dark' review

*Warning: The following review contains spoilers.*

"I'm not convinced the answers exist."
"They do. Whether or not they fit in our experience is another matter."

This exchange between Alaskan cop Donald Marium (James Badge Dale) and wolf expert Russell Core (Jeffrey Wright) takes place near the start of the third act in Hold the Dark, director Jeremy Saulnier's latest exercise in gruesome, overwhelming intensity. At this point, Medora Slone (Riley Keough) has killed her only son (Beckam Crawford) and fled the small Alaska town. Vernon Slone (Alexander Skarsgard) has executed multiple people in a vengeful quest to find his wife. And close friend Cheeon (Julian Black Antelope) has just massacred a group of cops. How can one make sense of this? Is there a rationale for any of it? Or is it just violence and darkness run amok? Marium is convinced it's the latter. But in his naivete, Core believes there's a reason, whether it's logical or not.


Broadly speaking, Hold the Dark is about explaining the un-explainable. The film has been called confounding and incomprehensible by many detractors, but I think that reaction might be part of the point. The film is easy enough to follow- Saulnier isn't trying to muddle things beyond coherence. However, much of what happens here simply cannot be rationalized or explained. More specifically, the events of Hold the Dark do not fit in our experience, as Core says to Marium in that crucial scene. The violence that penetrates the very fabric of the film itself is often completely ambiguous in a primal way; there's no rhyme or reason to be found. At its most extreme, there may not even be an illogical reason for the actions of these deeply disturbed individuals. When Core's daughter asks him what happened in the final scene of the film, he says "I'll tell you." But he doesn't say he can make sense of it.

With all of this in mind, it makes sense that Saulnier's latest has drawn more comparisons to No Country for Old Men than it has to his previous work. As an exploration of unconscionable evil, the two films share quite a bit of DNA. Even before the violence truly begins, Hold the Dark starts on a rather grim note. We see young Bailey Slone playing in his backyard, only for a pack of wolves to gather nearby. When Medora finishes locking a room and sees that her son is gone, she just sighs (this whole scene has new meaning when viewed a second time). Recently, this remote area in Alaska has seen a number of children taken by wolves, and it wouldn't be unreasonable to believe that Bailey is just the latest in a string of disappearances.

For help, Medora calls in Core, who spent a year living with wolves and wrote a book about his experience. She wants him to kill the wolf who supposedly took her son, but he doesn't think it'll be that simple. Once Core discovers the truth of what happened to Bailey, he'll find himself caught in a greater conspiracy beyond his understanding and control. And when Vernon returns from the war to wreak havoc on all of Alaska, Core's grip on the situation begins to fade even further.


There is a sickness in the air in Hold the Dark, and it infects nearly every single character in a different way. For Core, it's a physical ailment, a literal illness that leaves him sniffling and croaking through the frozen air. In the case of the Slones, the sickness burrows in their minds, growing into something darker. Medora claims there's something wrong with the sky, implying the existence of something sinister that led her to commit an unspeakable act of violence. She never elaborates, but even Core realizes that she's onto something. The isolation, the pervasive darkness, the soul-sucking bleakness- it's destined to take a toll eventually, right?

A greater psychological game is in play between Medora and Vernon, and to be quite honest, I still don't know quite what to make of it after two viewings. Vernon, as portrayed terrifyingly by Skarsgard, seems to both hate his wife and empathize with her. The film is ostensibly about his rampage towards revenge, but the deranged killer's capacity for violence is often reserved for those he believes have wronged her or somehow led her to this point. And at the same time, maybe Vernon realizes that same darkness exists inside him. Or that he's even to blame.

Of course, there's also the matter of a certain behavioral trait, which pops up as another wicked parallel between the Slones and the outside world. In a disturbing scene, Core comes up on a group of wolves devouring their young in what's known as "savaging." On a fundamental level, Medora basically committed the human equivalent of this animalistic behavior- except she might have viewed it as mercy. With nothing but darkness ahead, would Bailey have been doomed to the crushing, psychopathic emptiness that plagues Vernon and Medora? Would the sky have gotten him too? Even if there's no good answer, this wicked blend of mythological and psychological impulses is never less than unsettling.


In terms of its form, Hold the Dark is another brilliant exercise in precision from the man who brought us the equally suspenseful Green Room and Blue Ruin. While Macon Blair's script is decidedly free of much levity (if any at all), Saulnier imbues the film with so much unadulterated dread that it's impossible to look away. Especially on first glance, the director's latest is astonishingly tense; the threat of violence could delve into bloodshed at any given moment. When things do explode, it's as flat-out terrific as we've come to expect from Saulnier. A graphic shootout in the middle of the film is a standout, but there are a few moments where grisly violence happens so suddenly that it's difficult to even process. Saulnier's camera never flinches, capturing every single gory detail with an eye for shocking bluntness.

Most of all, Hold the Dark is an atmospheric journey. Saulnier has a way of creating mood that is so thoroughly unusual, requiring a special kind of relationship between camera movement and the pace of the characters. Everything moves at a deliberate speed in a Saulnier film, like the camera is just creeping into a scene, terrified of what it might find. Here, these steady movements create a mood that isn't easily shaken. Saulnier's touch intensifies everything from the iciness to the stone cold dread, allowing the viewer to be engulfed in a certain kind of darkness.

With this in mind, it's worth emphasizing that not everything in Hold the Dark needs to make sense. This disturbing mystery isn't just a puzzle to be solved- it's about channeling a feeling that settles deep inside. Saulnier doesn't seem to care if we piece together every little detail, so long as we sit down, watch, and allow ourselves to be consumed by a haunting world that seems to exist on the edge of reality itself. Hold the Dark can't be explained, but it leaves a lasting chill.

THE FINAL GRADE:  A-                                             (8.3/10)


Images: Netflix/IMDb

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