A Real-Life Survival Drama Unlike Any Other

Society Of The Snow

This is #CineFile, where our critic Rahul Desai goes beyond the obvious takes, to dissect movies and shows that are in the news.

IN 1972, a chartered Chile-bound flight carrying 45 passengers — including an Uruguayan rugby team — went down in the remote Andes mountains at an elevation of over 3,500 metres. Over the next 72 days, 16 of these passengers managed to overcome the elements — freezing weather, avalanches, starvation, infection and despair — by resorting to extreme measures. This included cannibalism and a brutal trek (without any climbing gear). The story is ready-made for cinematic translation: There’s tragedy, gore, resilience, engineering, human spirit, madness, brotherhood and suffering.

But ‘The Miracle of the Andes’ is also the sort of real-world survival tale that puts fiction to shame. Film is almost too small — too absolute — a medium to capture the sheer life of the story. It’s hard to improve on dramatic perfection. Having said that, JA Bayona’s Society of the Snow comes close to capturing the experience. It’s a feature that evokes the manner of a long-form biopic. It’s not perfect, but the imperfections are woven into the grammar of the anti-journey.

Stream Here

COLD OPEN

A Manic, Melancholic Survival Thriller

By Rahul Desai

Based on a book by one of the brave survivors, the movie is committed, technical and unrelenting. Unlike in Frank Marshall’s Alive (1993), most of the actors in this rendition are new and unknown, lending a sense of chilling anonymity to the faces trapped in the glacier. Every death feels like the death of a protagonist. Every word said sounds like it’s disappearing in thin air. The stylised voice-over isn’t supposed to work (particularly because the narrator is not one of the survivors), but it does in a strangely sentimental way. In terms of film-making, the crash itself ranks high on the scale of on-screen airplane disasters, perhaps somewhere between the ones in Cast Away and Flight. The action is far from incoherent, with every little detail — the tail section breaking up, the wings hitting the side of a mountain, the cockpit sliding through the snow, the seats flying out — agonisingly clear within the chaos.

The pilot error is not explicitly singled out, because that would distract from the inbuilt humanity of what follows. Ditto for the last-ditch cannibalism: The “meat” is never explicitly shown or fetishised, which makes the sight of the skeletons towards the end all the more sobering and ghostly (as opposed to ghastly). The discussions revolving around it are serious and pointed; the tussle between religion, culture and compassion defines them. On a personal note, as a nervous flyer who spends nights sifting through aviation debacles, I did not succumb to the perverse temptation of watching the sequence on my short flight home. Can’t say I did the same with Sully and Final Destination 5.

The ‘society’ refers to the social design that emerges within the group. Any interpersonal conflict is consumed by the magnitude of the situation. In the beginning, this looks a little shaky. The captain of the team takes charge too soon, as if he already knows that they won’t be found for a while. It’s the narrative equivalent of the “human factor” being neglected during the NTSB investigation of the pilots in Sully. Some of the decisions are a bit too immediate and neat, but I suppose they could be attributed to the primal triggers of a crisis. Once they come to terms with the nowhereness of the circumstances, the film settles into a rhythm of denial and acceptance.

Every big victory — like their tortured escape from the avalanche (simulating a reverse-birth of sorts, like adults cracking through a white and endless egg) — acquires the language of a lesser defeat. The uncertainty of being lost in the wilderness lingers over every event. To watch them celebrating is sad, because the deterioration of their bodies is at odds with the complications in their soul. At some point, the frivolousness of youth becomes a coping mechanism; the older passengers fade early, and all that’s left is a bunch of people fighting to reclaim a full future.

But what Society of the Snow really excels at is its relationship with the modern-day viewer. The film often bides its time, knowing fully well that every stretch and narrative yawn — the lulls in between the highs and lows — deepens our anticipation of the relief that awaits them. More importantly, it doesn’t skimp on the payoff (case in point: The Martian, where Ridley Scott refuses to offer the audience a chance to see the survivor’s reception on the planet). It doesn’t end abruptly with a rescue. It earns the resolution after two hours of deep-rooted conflict, and proudly milks it. And what a payoff it is. No moment is spared. It’s like the 16 have earned the sentimentality of the final act. We see the wasted men actually grooming themselves in the snow in preparation for the media and helicopters. We see the rescue force and governments springing to action. We see every look of disbelief. We see the glorious reunion with families and loved ones. We see the outpouring of joy in Chile and Uruguay as well as the images of the broken men bathing and eating after ages.

This is the kind of treatment that wouldn’t sit well in most survival dramas. But it works wonders here because it satiates the best and worst of human nature at once. We thrive on hope and underdogs and against-all-odds stories, and when one actually exists, we savour the subtext of pragmatism. This happened, we keep telling ourselves, and there’s no reason to be denied their relief. Some might call it Oscar bait (the film is Spain’s official submission, and has been shortlisted so far), but many might call it post-pandemic gratification. It’s a necessary gimmick in an age of unnecessary evils. The subtle showmanship of Society of the Snow is inextricably linked to the legacy of a tragedy disguised as a miracle.

Always get the latest reviews. Sign up for our newsletters.

Like what you read? Get more of what you like. Visit the OTTplay website, or download the app to stay up-to-date with news, recommendations and special offers on streaming content.

OUR OTHER NEWSLETTERS

This weekly newsletter compiles a list of the latest (and most important) reviews from OTTplay so you can figure what to watch or ditch over the weekend ahead.

Each week, our editors pick one long-form, writerly piece that they think it worthy of your attention, and dice it into easily digestible bits for you to mull over.

In which we invite a scholar of cinema, devotee of the moving image, to write a prose poem dedicated to their poison of choice. Expect to spend an
hour on this.