“Mountain Men”
A Review of Lost on a Mountain in Maine by Olszyk
Distribution Service: Fathom Events
MPAA Rating, PG
USCCB Rating, Not rated at the time of this review
Reel Rating, Three Reels
There’s a special genre of literature the resonates with adolescent men that feature surviving alone in the wilderness. These include Island of the Blue Dolphins, Hatchet, and – a personal favorite – My Side of the Mountain. We love stories of barely getting by in a way that shapes one’s character, often because it is so disconnected to our comfortable, humdrum lives. Yet there is nothing romantic about Andrew Knightlinger’s adaptation of Donn Fendler’s famous true-life story. It is a reminder that real survivalism is brutal, intense, and often ends in tragedy. Yet for those who do manage to come through alive, it brings an even greater sense of the deep truths often hidden by the veneer of civilization.
Mr. Fendler (Paul Sparks) – like many dads in the early 20th century – cares deeply for his children but has a difficult time expressing it. Amid the Depression, he wants to teach his boys to “be tough” but often comes across as an aloof bully, taking his lack of success out on those he loves. Working long hours for days away at time, he returns and promises the boys a weeklong fishing trip. Yet his schedule changes and a well needed rest becomes a day long hike up Mt. Katahdin.
Nine year-old Donn (Luke Blumm) is understandably upset with his father, and the trip is fraught with tension from the beginning. As the weather turns bad, Mr. Fendler insists they turn around but Donn refuses. A freak thunderstorm occurs, and he runs away, separating – somewhat intentionally – from his father and brother. Injured, cold, and hungry, Donn finds himself completely lost. Over the next nine days, Donn will attempt to find his way back to civilization while his dad and the Forest Service will conduct a massive search for the boy.
Knighlinger takes a minimalistic approach to his subject evoking the neo-realists of 1940s Italian cinema. There is no sweeping score or grand speeches. Instead, the audience watches in uncomfortable silence as Donn attempts to eat a raw fish for five minutes. There is nothing glamorous about this ordeal. It is dirty, dangerous, and deathly quiet except for your own groanings. After a few days of starvation and tainted water, Donn begins to hallucinate. Interspliced with Donn and the search party, the audience is treated to old interviews from the 1970s with the real family giving the film a documentary feel.
Throughout the film both Mr. Fendler and Donn are chiefly concerned with their masculinity, being “tough enough” in a difficult world. The hidden assumption is that due to their poverty, they must be lazy, immoral, or weak. Donn wants to prove his manhood by pushing himself further and further, but his recklessness leads to deadly consequences. It is true that “suffering produces endurance” (Romans 5:4), but this suffering comes from serving others rather than grandstanding acts of personal glory. It is when Mr. Fendler begins desperately looking for his son, leaving even his job, and Donn chooses to survive to embrace his family so these boys – independent of age – become men.
While Lost on a Mountain is not an explicitly Christian film, by being honest to a time before postmodernism, God’s presence is felt everywhere. When Donn’s situation is reported in the newspapers, thousands of letters and telegrams promising prayer are sent to his mother. Mr. Fendler, his wife, and many other people mention God and His providence. Basic Christian values like respect, honor, dignity, and service are everywhere. Dozens of neighbors come out to help the search. When Donn has visions, they are of his family and the hope that he will return to them.
Lost on a Mountain in Maine is a competent film, but the plot often drags on and the dialogue can be a bit cheesy and on the nose. Despite these failings, it’s a great story of resilience amid adversity both internally and externally with a happy ending for all involved. Just make sure you bring your cell phone the next time you go to the tallest point in the Pine Tree state.
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