Wild

For a few years after her Oscar win in 2006, Reese Witherspoon seemed to have gotten lost in easy paycheck romantic comedies and dramatic roles that seemed aimed at recapturing prestige. 2014 may just be the course-correct year for her, producing a mixed bag in Gone Girl, turning in solid supporting work in Inherent Vice and Mud, and in Wild delivering an emotionally stripped down and raw performance. It’s a great return to form, and I’m happy to see her back in fighting form. (Election has given her a lifetime pass of goodwill for me.)

Wild, adapted by Nick Hornby from Cheryl Strayed’s memoir, tells the story of one person’s emotional and spiritual rebirth after overcoming a series of debilitating personal issues and addictions. Haunting over the film is the spectre of Strayed’s mother, played in minimal screen time with maximum honest and impact by Laura Dern, and the memories that flood back to her at random moments of her heroin addiction, sex addiction, and broken marriage.

At times Jean-Marc Vallée makes overly artistic choices that feel tonally at odds with the material, much like his previous effort Dallas Buyers Club. But Wild is an infinitely better movie than that offensive bit of white savior cinema. The symbols of the fox and diseased horse are on the nose, but he wisely taps into Hornby’s obsession with how music and literature influence our personal lives. Various songs and pieces of literature weave in and out of Strayed’s memories, bringing about images of her joys and sorrows.

Dern and Witherspoon turn in some very fine work. Dern in particular only has about ten minutes worth of screen time, but she lingers in your mind. An actress who is capable of both great restraint and the ability to go manically broad, Dern here appears to emotional strip down to the very basics, effectively becoming the bruised soul of the entire film. Witherspoon must carry the entire film on her shoulders, and she makes it look effortless. She easily reveals deep pools of fury, rage, and self-destruction before flipping the script and witnessing this woman’s healing journey. Witherspoon never shows all of her cards, preferring to lay them down slowly and with deliberate, methodical purpose. At the very end, Wild reveals a hopeful spirit trying valiantly to fight against the endless hurt that has taken residence in her soul. It’s a moving piece of work.