Mark Reviews Movies: ALPHA

Become a fan on Facebook Follow on Twitter

Review by Mark Dujsik | August 16, 2018

The first human who attempted to tame a wild wolf must have been either very brave or very stupid. Then again, these qualities aren't necessarily mutually exclusive. Alpha is a bit more generous to our prehistoric ancestors, speculating that the bond between man and canine arrived out of a combination of fear, compassion, and necessity. There's no way to tell if anything in the film is accurate, but that's not the point. This is an old-fashioned adventure yarn about survival under difficult circumstances, lent a strong visual flair by director Albert Hughes, who also eschews the easy, audience-friendly route of telling this story.

It's set in what would become Europe 20,000 years in the past—near the relative end of the Stone Age and during the last glacial period. The tribespeople of this place and time looked close enough to their modern-day progeny that the actors need only furrow their brows, dirty themselves up a bit, and speak in an unidentifiable tongue.

Yes, there is not a word of any Romance, Germanic, or Slavic language spoken in the movie. Whenever these ancient people speak, which is not too often to be fair, it is in a prehistoric tongue and accompanied by subtitles. They may not yet have developed the beginnings of any of Europe's current languages, but surprisingly, these characters have figured out a few clichés. The screenplay by Daniele Sebastian Wiedenhaupt, though, isn't too concerned with words. It would rather the characters' actions speak for them.

That line of thinking comes straight at us from the start. After some shots of the vistas of the prehistoric world—gorgeous, rolling hills and rocky terrains and an ash-spewing volcano—populated by digital creatures of the time, the film opens with a rousing hunting sequence. We learn of the main characters later, when the story flashes back to a week before 20,000 years ago, but there isn't too much to know.

Keda (Kodi Smit-McPhee) is the son of Tau (Jóhannes Haukur Jóhannesson), the chief of a tribe that lives in the hills. Everything we need to know about these characters and this scenario comes from the imagery—the herd of bison in the distance, the crawling hunters silently making their way toward the beasts, the respective looks of pride and trepidation on the faces of the father and son. Tau calls his hunters to charge, and the bison return the favor. Spears fly and land, forming a wall that diverts the beasts toward a cliff. There's the haunting, sickening plummet of dozens of the animals, and suddenly, Keda finds himself face to face with a charging bison. The standoff ends with the beast tossing the son off the side of the cliff.

The flashback to a week prior doesn't add much more than we already can gather from the opening scene. It solidifies what we assumed. Tau wants his son to learn to be a leader, and Keda isn't sure if he's prepared for it. We see the teenage boy hesitate and then refuse to end the misery of a speared boar. Another young man is taken away by a saber-toothed cat. The world is a cruel and unforgiving place, and it's something that Keda cannot quite accept yet.

A story such as this one, though, isn't about its big themes or its rich characters, and Wiedenhaupt and Hughes clearly know that in their own ways. After Keda's violent tumble off the cliff, the screenplay leaves the boy alone, presumed dead by his father and his fellow hunters. He has to find his way back home, using only his wits and a map of the stars that are tattooed on his arm. Along the way, he's chased by a pack of wolves. He wounds one with a knife and, after the rest have gone, takes pity on the suffering animal—muzzling it and carrying it to the safety of a cave.

Provided with what might seem like difficult restrictions (characters whose language is likely foreign to the majority of people alive today, as well as a story that's little more than a trip from Point A to Point B and back again), Hughes instead sees them as an opportunity to focus on the basics. Since this is mostly a tale about a man struggling against and trying to tame nature, the director and cinematographer Martin Gschlacht give us a variety of backdrops, all striking in their own ways—the sun barely glowing through a cloudy sky, a fiery orange sunset behind some hills, a fearsome tower of snow that could provide shelter from pursuing predators, the pitch black of night that's illuminated only by the glowing eyes of some unseen beast. A couple of long shots seem inspired by the flat, concise simplicity of a children's storybook.

As for the central relationship between Keda and the wolf, which he names "Alpha," it finds a pleasant balance between reality and the sentimental. This is, undoubtedly, a wild animal (portrayed by a decent combination of a real animal or more and digital effects), which growls when Keda first approaches it and snarls when it thinks the human is preventing it from having a meal. The domestication process might feel a bit rushed, but with a story this fundamental, there isn't much room for specific details, although there is some time for the wolf to fight amiably over a scarf and play fetch. There's a real sense of the bond between human and animal here, and that's essential.

Alpha is all about the essentials—clean and clear storytelling, recognizable characters, stunning visuals, a tale about a boy and his first dog. The film gives us that, and it's a convincing and engaging journey into prehistory.

Back to Home

Buy Related Products

Buy the DVD

Buy the Blu-ray