Jeremiah Johnson struck me as a strange mix of Davy Crocket, Wild America and A River Runs Through It, but in a good way. There were certainly some cornball moments sprinkled throughout, but between the gorgeous cinematography and the pure, uncomplicated direction of the story guided by Sidney Pollack, it was a treat to watch Robert Redford establish himself as another wild creature of the Rocky Mountains.
I’m not sure I agree with any of the synopses I’ve read about this film; they all implied this was about a man’s bloody detente with a tribe of angry Indians. That particular aspect of the story only really occupies the last 15 minutes of so of the story. What Jeremiah Johnson is really about is a man that immerses himself into the wild with sincere conviction. Redford’s Jeremiah is a veteran of the Mexican War who’s seen a little too much of civilization and heads into the Rockies to hunt and trap and carve out a life for himself. The story is enriched with gorgeous cinematography and accented with folk music narration. The “narration” is probably the weakest and most dated element of the film, next to some of the improvised First Nations rituals when Jeremiah marries a “squaw” – hey, that’s how writers in 1972 decided to portray how people spoke back in the 1860′s.
Jeremiah Johnson has just about everything to offer in fairly modest doses – all but the vistas, which are in abundance. There’s some action, some drama, some mild romance, and even a little bit of comedy. I was particularly impressed with the portrayal of the animal violence; it took some very skillful editing to create a believable scene where Jeremiah contends with a pack of hungry wolves, considering the advent of proper CG was still 20 or so years away.
The Verdict: If you’re up for a meditation on a life of solitude in the picturesque Rocky Mountains, this is the film for you.
