Indie drama-thriller Manifest West’s (now on Hulu) claim to fame is that two of Mel Gibson’s nine children are involved with it: Louie Gibson shares direction and writing credit with Joe Dietsch, and Milo Gibson stars, playing the father of a young family that cuts ties with most of the outside world and relocates to a remote cabin to live off the land. The directorial pair previously made Happy Hunting, but now they shift from pulpy dark satire to a more sober drama that proposes a big question: Can you ever really run away from your problems?
The Gist: I think I know the answer to that one: No, you can’t really run away from your problems. But Dave (Milo Gibson) and Alice Hayes (Annet Mahendru) look fairly young, and may not have figured that out yet. We hear voiceover from their daughter Riley (Lexy Kolker), a tweener young enough to not quite understand everything that’s going on, but still old enough to not quite buy why they’re leaving their nice-enough house to live in a weathered cabin on top of a mountain, miles from civilization. Does she buy it when Dave says they’re “a family of pioneers” who are “going on adventure”? Eh, not fully. But even her naive, still-babyish younger sister Mary (Madison Friedman) wrinkles her nose at first sight of their new home. “Home is where we are together,” Dave and Alice remind them, and the girls believe that, at least.
There are hints that things aren’t altogether OK with the Hayeses – a close-up shot of Alice’s pill dispenser, Dave tuning in to a talk-radio show trafficking in paranoia and distrust of societal structures – which identifies them as more than just hippies hoping to get closer to Mama Earth, but less than fugitive criminals. Alice previously worked as a teacher, and homeschools the girls while Dave chops wood and plants seeds. Then, two key events occur, both intrusions of the outside world on the family: An inspector knocks on the door and informs Dave that the septic tank is leaking and needs major repair. Then one day while the girls are playing in the woods –, Riley as the good guy who guns down Mary pretending to be “the Taliban” – when they meet a softspoken neighbor, Eric (Michael Cudlitz), who they’re shocked to learn carries a gun with him at all times. “Guns are bad,” is Riley’s reaction. But Eric is a decent guy. And next thing you know they’ve all learned how to shoot, and Riley’s wielding a rifle and busting bottles like a pro.
Turns out there’s a small community of fellow recluses out there on the mountain. They pal around with the Hayeses, and help out with the septic tank. They’re also a bit rowdy, and the girl Riley’s age, Lana (Ava Kolker), is T-R-O-U-B-L-E. “I’m trying to show you the big dog shit. You a big dog?” she asks Riley as she tosses her a beer. It doesn’t go well. She sort of accidentally on purpose hurts Riley and when Alice finds out, she hauls off and slaps Lana. You see, Alice is bipolar. It’s likely not her first violent outburst. And her pills are gone. And doctors are part of a world they’re trying to leave behind. This is one of those it’s-gonna-get-worse-before-it-gets-better situations, because Dave tells the girls, “Mom doesn’t need a doctor. She just needs rest.” And Dave is wrong.
What Movies Will It Remind You Of?: Similar themes run through Debra Granik’s extraordinary drama Leave No Trace. And Gibson and Dietsch’s direction has a similar gritty tone and texture as Taylor Sheridan’s films (Wind River and hit TV series Yellowstone), with a shade of suspenseful intensity reminiscent of Jeremy Saulnier (especially Hold the Dark).
Performance Worth Watching: You’ll wish the screenplay explored and developed its characters a little more, considering how convincing Mahendru, Milo Gibson and Lexy Kolker are in the key roles.
Memorable Dialogue: Eric feeds Dave a slice of reality pie:
Dave: I thought it would be nice not to be part of the world anymore.
Eric: What do you got against the world?
Dave: It had something against us.
Eric: You know this is the world, right? You’re still in it, buddy.
Sex and Skin: None.
Our Take: I tried to pinpoint when exactly Manifest West takes place, but it seems purposely elusive: I looked for now-ubiquitous cell phones, but didn’t see any; there’s that Taliban reference; Riley plays an old-school Game Boy; Dave’s radio shows of choice don’t quite reek of Trumpist neo-conspiracy vitriol; did I see a “thin blue line” patch on a cop? Reading into it, it seems the filmmakers are avoiding political-divide narrative traps. It also points to the slight negligence of attention to detail that’s somewhat emblematic of the film’s problems – it nobly attempts to weave together ideas about mental illness, guns, isolationism and paranoia into a story about a family’s struggle to find its place in the world. But the many threads of its provocative subject matter are left dangling as it shifts from Riley’s coming-of-age family-drama story into a full-blown thriller in its final moments. The themes here are too thinly rendered to have significant dramatic impact.
The effort is present, however, and the narrative wisely takes no sides on the Hayes-family-vs.-the-world conflict. We understand their desire to disconnect; who hasn’t entertained the notion when life gets tough? We also understand how the world functions; it works best under order instead of anarchy, and offers a support network necessary for (presumably) 21st-century existence. These are lessons filtered through Riley’s point-of-view, of an in-betweener who’s in a transitional phase of human development, stacked on top of her family’s transition from modern to relatively primitive life. The weight of the world is on her shoulders – and now she knows what to do with a gun.
I’m not suggesting (read: spoiling) anything by making that statement. It’s merely an observation, and one of the aforementioned dangling threads. But there’s substance to Manifest West, from its thematic ambition to the uniformly strong dramatic performances to Gibson and Deitsch’s visual storytelling prowess, which leads to moments of heavy-handed overdirection, but is nevertheless thoughtful and well-considered. It comes down to the conclusion, which is unnecessarily hyperbolic. But up until then, it’s a rock-solid drama crafted with an admirable sense of intent and purpose.
Our Call: The ambition and talent that goes into Manifest West eclipses its narrative messiness, so yes, you could STREAM IT and come out the other side reasonably satisfied.
John Serba is a freelance writer and film critic based in Grand Rapids, Michigan.