We get more than enough snow days in Maine. Much like I did when I was a kid, my adult brain immediately goes to “snow day movie!” as soon as I see more than three inches of snow on the ground. Traditionally I watch one of two films when I’m confined to my couch, either The Shining or The Thing. If I’m feeling particularly energetic I might even through Rocky IV in the blu ray player. However, this year I wanted to add another film to the rotation, 1993’s Alive.
Populated by actors who will likely never be easily confused for Uraguyan rugby players such as Ethan Hawke, Josh Hamilton, and Josh Lucas, alive tells the story of a plane full of athletes, their family, coaches, etc, as their private plane crashes into the Andes Mountains. Expecting to be rescued in quick order, the survivors make fast work of their remaining food and are soon forced to make hard choices in order to survive the coming days.
This is a good looking movie, and I’m not just referring to the hunky young stars who spend most of their time dressed in physique-hiding layers and sport chiseled chin covering beards. Cinematographer Peter James, who is mostly known for films where you don’t notice anything about the camerawork, makes the most of the snowy peaked landscape, showcasing its rigid verticality, creating a barrier that I wouldn’t fathom to climb even if it meant escaping certain death.
On the opposite end of the spectrum, shots within the makeshift shelter of the plane’s fuselage feel perfectly cramped and lived in, so much that I found myself at times wondering how badly it must’ve smelled. Every dirty detail feels spot on, from the do it yourself hammocks to the clothing disarray littering every available inch of warm space.
Without spoiling anything, perhaps my favorite shots involve the snow surrounding the immediate area of the plane. Throughout the course of the move it undergoes…changes, and without drawing particular attention to it, that area hammers home the hardship and costs of their survival.
Besides the wonderful set dressing, the movie is acted rather admirably as well. Writer Tom Patrick Shanley (best know for his own adaptation of Doubt)takes Piers Paul Reads book and allows an abundance of characters to have their own distinct personalities, and more importantly, truthful reactions to the trauma inducing crash and subsequent desertions. Their conversations and actions feel honest, and in a movie that could easily turn into an over-wrought melodrama, thats important.
Other than its probably budgetary peccary cast of young pale Hollywood stars, my only grievance with the film lies firmly near the lips of Ethan Hawke, whose 60 day old perfectly curated goatee was obviously preparing for it’s starring role in Reality Bites. All the other actors cast away their own vanity, its a shame he couldn’t do the same. It left a sour taste, especially considering he ended up being the “white savior” of the whole group.
Still, I give this film an overall recommendation because director Frank Marshall veered away from typical disaster porn and handled the more gruesome elements of the story rather tastefully.
I can’t believe I just said that.
3.5 stars (out of 5)
