Looking Back at INTO THE WILD: A Wise, Remarkable Film

How do you talk about the idea of freedom without pompousness and without building abstract theories? How do you talk about life without resorting to easy phrases? How do you find an uncommon answer to a banal question: what is important in life? How do you eliminate from yourself what is irrelevant, trivial, stupid? According to what values should you judge yourself and others? And is it even worth judging at all? How do you make an intimate confession public without making a fool of yourself? How do you guard against mistakes? How do you achieve success? Into the Wild.

Not stupid questions, but difficult to answer, and avoiding cheap rhetoric is even harder. I hate platitudes shoved into my ears, eyes and imagination. I can’t stand the patronizing tone coming from the mouths of know-it-alls who treat their listeners like mentally limited preschoolers. Sean Penn’s film had no right to appeal to me, because the attempt at an ambitious approach to the idea of freedom in the 21st century seemed inevitably, or so I thought, to push the author into realms as banal as a psychological self-help book for rebellious teenagers.

And as it happens, today’s rebellion is rather a loud pose, a passing fad, a hair-and-makeup trend, a babbling inspired by banality, and gestures learned from television. In other words, a conformist nonsense disguised in the clothes of nonconformism. Of course, this generalization wrongs many sincere fighters honestly engaged in revolutionary work, yet I drastically narrow the view for a simple reason — Into the Wild tells a story of rebellion as a confrontation between artificiality and the so-called truth, sometimes written with a lowercase, sometimes with an uppercase T.

That’s quite a lot for a film that is thoroughly American, yet aims to be ambitious enough that the adjective “wise” would not seem an exaggeration. We know only as much as is shown and said. Chris, 22 years old, is just finishing his studies. With a high degree of probability, one can predict his future, which would not stray far from social expectations and dreams: regular work and pay, better or worse; a girlfriend, then a wife, then a mother; a car (rather a bigger one, as it’s an investment in a family future); a suburban house (with a white fence on a neatly trimmed lawn); neighbors identical to themselves (groomed, fresh from the dentist and psychologist); nice buddies on weekends (from time to time it’s worth getting sloshed); falling asleep in front of the TV (necessarily in the bedroom!).

Chris would easily find himself in such a comfortable and safe world that requires the minimum of involvement and the maximum of acceptance. He probably wouldn’t be terrified by daily masturbation in the shower and shy memories of a few movie characters making similarly meaningful gestures aimed against this sometimes unpleasant reality. Because how is it? Because one is expected to conform to the mating habits of the human species. That’s how it’s done, that’s what’s appropriate. What’s more — such a state of mind and body can make one happy. At least some, and statistically speaking, likely the vast majority.

But Chris is not amused by what is barren and illusory; by what has been determined by temporary customs forcing one to choose a very specific and very predictable path. That is why he rebels. He steps outside the template of social demands, imposed restrictions, ridiculous regulations. He rejects careerism, economic charts, tables and graphs, he does not fall into the void of chasing money, he does not make his life pleasant with things. In his rebellion he is authentic — to the extent that he himself believes in the meaning of the choices he made. Naturally, he is naïve — rebellion cannot exist without a considerable dose of naïve idealization.

Rebellion, however, cannot be motivated by reliable analysis. The pursuit of ultimate freedom is complete madness, an irrational leap straddling a fence. That is why Chris’s idealistic declarations are not worthless, because Chris believes in them, and more — Chris acts! He goes! He rushes forward! He searches! He was therefore not an ordinary “bluebird,” a philosophical idler, an easy rider setting off on hallucinogenic journeys through his own head. Chris is a madman who does not shy away from hard work; he demands much of others, but the most of himself.

This is an extremely exceptional stance, anti-hippie and contrary to those ideas that frivolously describe this type of rebellion as pretentious. How did Chris search? Above all, he watched and listened. Sean Penn follows exactly the path Chris walked: he recreates exceptional places, trivial events, encounters. He tries to understand motives, he tries to bite into feelings and recall those emotions that accompanied Chris while hitchhiking through the wilderness, sailing dozens of kilometers downriver, working in the fields, living in a trailer, gutting a moose he had hunted.

What’s more, Chris’s notes are recalled, as well as quotes from the numerous books whose fragments the protagonist comments on and evaluates. What did Chris find? Paradoxically, he found the meaning of all that he rebelled against, that he burned behind him, that he tried to forget and that he harshly judged according to idealistic criteria. No, he didn’t want to return with chips in his hands to a comfortable couch. But at the end of his journey he finally rejects the kind of pride, vanity and unhealthy resolve that pushed him to a place where rescue is almost impossible.

Because unfortunately, his naïveté, though exceptional and brilliant, was quite immature, ignoring matters seemingly irrelevant but ultimately the most important. Life is not only the involuntary surrender to empirical and philosophical experiences, but also stepping outside oneself: beyond one’s own sensations, needs, desires. Life is understanding happiness and freedom together with other people, who care just as much about both happiness and freedom — despite defining them differently. Cooperation, mutual understanding — of love, loneliness, money, home, religion, nature…

Forgive my pompous tone. I know this kind of thought approaches banality dangerously closely. It’s just a pity that we talk about it so damn rarely. Such is Into the Wild — seemingly banal. At the same time, simply wise, because its blade is pointed at those places where modern loudmouths pompously advise “how to live,” and where difficult questions are dismissed with ignorance or at best silence.

And for that, Sean Penn deserves respect, as do the excellent Emile Hirsch, the tearful Hal Holbrooke, and the quiet hero singing in the background, Eddie Vedder. A remarkable, demanding film.