Watched: Prince Avalanche
It’s rare that films about men come along these days where I don’t end up mentally serving a side of feminist guilt; so many men in cinema are written or directed poorly, often making a virtue of some truly deplorable traits. Prince Avalanche takes two men with their own individual issues with women, and never tries to make a wider point about What Women Are Like. It doesn’t push towards a tidy resolution. Instead, it takes a slow-burning tragedy and turns it into something transcendent.
Paul Rudd plays Alvin, a pensive and slightly pretentious man tasked with painting the Texas roads after a 1988 wildfire. Emile Hirsch is his slacker brother-in-law, Lance, along for the ride with little interest in anything beyond the day-to-day. Over time, they deal with their own personal crises in petty exchanges and explosions of anger, and learn a lot about each other and not much about themselves.
There aren’t many films that I’ve seen that attempt to come to terms with an imperfect situation, rather than pushing false remedies. By turns, both Alvin and Lance find themselves in unpleasant emotional landscapes with no escape in sight. The backdrop of the burned-out Texan forests offers little solace; in fact, it only accentuates the fact that they have nothing but each other and their own thoughts for company.
Little happens on-screen, but Rudd and Hirsch are a joy to watch, particularly when they interact. The music is equal parts haunting and beautiful (scored by Explosions in the Sky and David Wingo), and none of the incredible shots outstay their welcome.