Arctic

Lost in a frozen wilderness, textbook survival skills sustainably applied.

Waiting patiently at his fortunate crash site, there's little to do but sit back and be rescued.

Well-attuned to nature and the forbidding crux of its bounty, he agilely lives off fish calmly hooked in a lake nearby.

He's been there some time, although we're not sure how long, when a helicopter appears with ample room for one more.

But the winds are treacherous and they fiercely express themselves, the helicopter soon blindly forsaken upon the cold disingenuous unforgiving snow below.

There's one survivor (Maria Thelma Smáradóttir as The Survivor).

And her health's declining.

A trusty map leads the way to a destination.

Not too far away.

Alternative logic computes.

And they set out to make direct contact.

Spring is readily approaching in Joe Penna's wild Arctic, as defiance rigorously scorns stark obstinacy.

The rules are followed, Overgård (Mads Mikkelsen) has strictly abided by tried and true methods, yet he still must embrace calculated risk, eventually, to save a life almost lost saving his.

Trying to save his.

It makes for a less reckless survival film, or one that first demonstrates what you should do if you've come to be lost, before finding a compelling reason to justify cinematic extravagance.

Extravagance is an unfair word.

Arctic is much more clever.

Since Spring is approaching, it makes sense that the snow isn't reliable, and that polar bears are foraging inland.

It can be dangerous to take refuge in a cave in such regions, I imagine, so the bear's appearance isn't as melodramatic as it sounds.

Plus the bear's been hanging around for a while.

When a storm sets in, Overgård builds a snow fort, or shelter, which is exactly what you should do, as far as I know.

You should never leave the crash sight, but if there is a potential refuge not that far away, and you have a map, and one of your party is dying, it makes sense to break with tradition, and head out into the bleak unknown.

And while the existence of maps that specify details of highly remote regions is a triumph of cartographical craftspersonship, whether or not every single detail has been meticulously recorded is a matter for geographical dispute.

Plus we don't know anything about Overgård, not even his name really, the film doesn't waste time introducing him and the meeting he's theoretically late for and the family he hypothetically misses, we just meet him after he's crash landed in the arctic, and has engaged in blunt death-defying survival.

Penna clearly asked himself, "how do I make a survival film that has cinematic appeal but isn't fantastic or maudlin or cheesy or sensational?", and the result is the best winter survival film I've seen.

Clear headed rational excitement.

Literary in a way.

Breathtaking.