Michigan is home to an underground film industry that is active and beginning to break big with or without state subsidies that attract Michael Bay and his blockbuster explosions and effects. In fact, a sound prediction is that the scene is poised to break out into a full-blown cinematic movement. Hunting Lands could be that tipping point between its art-house flourishes and indie polish.
Frank Olsen (Marshall Cook) lives in the woods away from people. He likes it that way, hunting deer and fending for himself among the quiet tranquility of nature. That is until an attempted murder near his hunting ground spurs him to try and save the victim’s life (Michigan indie film veteran Keyna Reynolds) and also track and investigate her would-be killer (Joe Raffa). Cozying up to his quarry at a bar, Frank invites him out for a deer hunt, having an ulterior motive.
Shot in the wilds of Northern Michigan, director Zack Wilcox obviously takes inspiration from The Deer Hunter. The parallels are overt, beyond the buck hunting aspects. Frank, foremost, is a veteran who wants solitude and a return to some semblance of normalcy. He doesn’t go somewhere, let alone Thailand, to rescue a war buddy who has lost it but he does wend a similar journey. Nursing a prone woman near death back to health and avenging her is a sort of last shot at humanity for him after all the killing he did in the service.
Wilcox’s vision is firmly planted – if in an insistent mimetic fashion – among the auteurs of yore, though while visually he channels Michael Cimino and the likes of Nicolas Roeg and Peckinpah, his true muse, as is the case with so many film students and cinephiles, is Alfred Hitchcock. Structurally, a page is ripped straight from the text of Vertigo’s stylistic handbook. Once Frank identifies his suspect, Lance, he follows him into town. He tails Lance in his truck and performs stakeouts outside a car dealership and a small-town movie theater. A fair assessment of Lance’s personality is made strictly from observing him in the middle of his dalliances and tantrums throughout the day. Conclusion: he’s not such a nice guy.
Wilcox adheres unwaveringly to the old “show, don’t tell” axiom to roll out his story. Much of what I describe above happens with minimal dialogue during a copious portion in the middle of the movie. Frank follows Lance around like he is John Ferguson (Jimmy Stewart’s character in Vertigo) chasing a lookalike blonde. This can be self-defeating against the typical attention span when viewed on the small screen, but theatrically is a traditionally immersive experience – the kind critics galore approve of.
The film scene in the Mitten is busy and burgeoning. Harold Cronk’s faith-based pictures (God’s Not Dead and so on) are also filmed up here year after year. Zack Wilcox doesn’t follow their model, where the medium is so subordinate to the message to the point that inadequate consideration is given to artistry. What he does is respect the conveyance and the form. There is a sense of fondness for his influences at play and he attempts to bring the same level of craftsmanship and class, largely succeeding.
Hunting Lands has a smart, self-aware script and is directed in a fashion refreshing for a milieu thriving on low-budget yet commercially viable production slates. Wilcox dares to do better by capturing the look and feel of an upscale thriller from the 70s, in what may be the best-looking indie feature shot and set in Michigan since It Follows. He is out on the festival circuit where he is being met with rewards and accolades – the film won Best Screenplay and Best Picture at the Idyllwild International Festival of Cinema. It also screened at the Beverly Hills Film Fest. Upcoming screenings include the Newport Beach Film Festival in California on April 30th and May 3rd.
Whether you have the opportunity out there or get the chance to stream it – hopefully it will play in a theater near you for the full experience – give Hunting Lands a watch. For an 80-some minute movie, it’s surprisingly deliberate and careful with its pace. It also won’t insult your intelligence by constantly barking details at you via unneeded dialog. You might even catch a glimpse of the next big New Wave in the making. Eat your hearts out, national cinemas.
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