A sudden crash upon a remote mountain top shockingly affects three airborne strangers, plummeting just before achieving thunderous summit, no cellphone service available, no flight plan having been filed, destitute, forlorn, aerodynely abandoned, they classify, catalogue, conjure, and code, embracing logical risk to command desperate passion, blindly preparing for enigmatic descent, wounded yet versatile, adventurously impacting.
Seductive scorned survival.
One traveller planned to be wed the next day, an innovative photographer working for The Guardian on her way to Denver, she refuses to sit still and wait, thereby prompting diminutive exodus.
Another must follow, himself quietly suffering after having lost a loved one, the two slowly traversing frozen inhospitable lands together as one, struggling to limitlessly strive on, with the hopes of rediscovering civilization.
A persevering dog tenaciously accompanies them, spiritually guiding them along the way, enabling them to grasp, grip, and grind, well-placed throughout the film to devoutly distract and domestically foreshadow, his improvised excursions adamantly nestling, the parental and the preconditioned, precociously implied.
Roughing it stark and wayward, lost in the wilderness in the dead of Winter with neither supplies nor sustenance to trek their way through.
Can they endure like inexhaustible inclement feline prognosticators?
While exponentially cultivating, what is known as true love?
The Mountain Between Us metaphorically ices the unforgiving terrain the everlasting requires to harmoniously resound.
Amidst the jaded chaos of hopelessness and the disabling cynicism of despair, a would be couple sustainably compensates.
Cinematographically lacking considering their environment, and much more rich in woodland symbolism than death-defying dialogue, it still presents a tumultuously touching vision, unobscured by constant slights.
Imperative integrity.
Substantiated romance.
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