The most surprising thing about Slow West is realizing that it’s the first feature length by director John Maclean, who could fool anyone into thinking he’s been making movies for decades based on the confident pacing and bold, stylistic choices at display in this Western. Set in the late 19th century the film introduces us to Jay Cavendish (Kodi Smit-McPhee) a Scottish teenager traveling across Colorado, keen on reuniting with his sweetheart Rose (Caren Pistorius) who he hasn’t seen in some time. Obviously unprepared for the enterprise, he’s lucky enough to run into frontiersman Silas Selleck (Michael Fassbender) who promises to help him reach his destination safely. Little does Jay suspect that Silas is trying to collect a bounty placed on Rose and her father John (Rory McCann).
As with most “road movies” (one of the many film sub-genres Slow West could fit into) the final destination is much less important than the path taken, and along the way we see Jay and Silas develop a unique friendship sculpted from their differences. The former is timid, somehow both over-prepared and never-ready, the latter is mercurial, almost feral in his behavior. They see in each other what they lack and this often comes in handy, without feeling forced. In one of the film’s most powerful scenes, it’s Jay’s utter silence which saves Silas’ life, after he is threatened by another character who doesn’t know Jay has been hiding nearby all along.
Maclean injects his film with a permanent sense of dread that perfectly sums up the changes America was going through at the time. The systematic elimination of Native Americans is a constant motif in the film, and we see the characters show their fear without ever stopping to question if they had any involvement in creating this uncertainty. The cinematography by Robbie Ryan perfectly captures the savage beauty of the wilderness, with the camera often seeming too small to take in all the wonders of nature. Several shots of the sky highlight the film’s obsession with human insignificance, during the day the open sky seems almost merciless in its indifference, and at night completely filled with stars it seems too busy with other matters.
The director is at all times more concerned with the significance of the elements and symbols, than with the advancement of the simple plot, but he makes up for it by adding unexpected touches that recall magic realism and the Coen brothers, such as a moment during which Jay and Silas run into a band of French-speaking musicians who play their instruments in the middle of the desert. Maclean is aware of the never-ending cycle of violence and barbarism perpetuated in America throughout all its recorded history, but he is also aware that life would be unbearable without small mercies and it’s these little moments of beauty that make Slow West positively life-affirming.
