The Rover opens and we’re told the story takes place “ten years after the collapse” as the score from Antony Partos rips through our ears, almost as if he’s tearing the strings off its instrument. The setting is the dusty and desolate Australian desert and it portends to be yet another post-apocalyptic film featuring characters scrounging for survival in whatever way they can. The post apocalyptic theme has become a common one, which can result in a certain level of skepticism walking in. Will this be yet another pointless story of human suffering with a focus merely on its setting or does it have something more to say?
Yes, The Rover is darkly violent and depressing. Writer/director David Michôd (Animal Kingdom) squarely focuses on the dark side of humanity. It’s a familiar approach in that it sets out to reaffirm that once the whole of society collapses it will be every man and woman for him/herself. Believe in the kindness of others all you like (and some may still exist), but once the harsh reality of life vs. death shows its face it becomes every man, woman and child for themselves or whatever small group they may travel. The biggest question we’ll face is just what exactly can (and will) we hold on to? The Rover seeks to answer that question.
Here we begin with Eric (Guy Pearce), a drifter, driving the lonely highways and stopping for a brief respite and a drink. Without saying a word he walks through a dilapidated building, sits and keeps to himself.
Next, a truck is speeding down the same highway. A man (Scoot McNairy) in the back seat is injured and screaming for them to go back for his brother, they can’t just leave him to die. His two partners disagree. They argue. They fight. The truck goes out of control and crashes just outside the same building Eric has decided to stop. Wasting no time, the three men break into Eric’s car and drive off. Eric hears the commotion, looks down the road, sees the truck tangled in some industrial material, manages to free it and takes off after the men.
In terms of the film’s plot, this is the story. A man goes in search of his stolen car. Eric is eventually joined by the thought-dead, slow-witted brother of one of the three men, Rey (Robert Pattinson), but for all intents and purposes, the narrative is a man searching for his car. Where the film excels, however, is what it does with its characters. It knows what to say, when to say it and has one of the best lines of the year as Rey says, “It doesn’t always have to be about something.” No, it doesn’t, and sometimes The Rover isn’t about anything more than Eric and Rey in the same place at the same time, but for as much as it doesn’t always have to be about something, this film is about so many somethings you’ll be challenging yourself with its meaning for days after seeing it.
Pearce is largely quiet and reflective, never giving anyone the upper hand while Pattinson delivers the performance of his career. Slow-witted, but far from dumb, Rey is a product of his environment and doesn’t really know any better than what he’s seen around him and clearly what he’s seen is death without remorse. The fact he clearly feels remorse, at times, is just enough of a character detail to pull you in further, just as it does Eric, a man who seems he has nothing left to lose.
This post apocalyptic theme that has become such a standard storytelling trope tells us a lot about where we are at this point in history. There’s a fear of the future and, I’d say, a fear of humanity and what it has (and possibly will) become. It’s easy to tap into this fear by simply setting your film in a future wasteland, but it’s incumbent on the filmmaker to do something more with the story than merely prey on our fears, Michod (along with Joel Edgerton who gets a story credit) does that.
It’s that line, “It doesn’t always have to be about something,” that sticks with me. So often we get caught up, whether we’re talking about a movie, music, books or just life in general, in the idea of “What does it mean?” “What’s the point?” “Why are you telling me this?” that we forget to just sit back, watch and listen. We forget what’s important… each other.
There’s a scene in The Rover where Eric is attempting to buy some more gasoline and the vendor tells him it will be twenty U.S. dollars. Eric tells him he only has Australian money. Denied by the merchant he screams, “It’s just fucking paper!”
Michod says a lot with The Rover without having to directly come out and say it and he’s proven he’s one of the most exciting directors working today by doing so. If you’re a fan of cinema, you have to see this movie. Sit with it, don’t rush it, let it slowly wrap you up and tear you apart before blowing you away in the end.
