Written by Andreas Babiolakis

Did we really need another film about the 1972 Uruguayan rugby team plane crash that resulted in many casualties and unspeakable acts to survive? Well, if you are a big fan of 1993’s Alive, you may feel like there is no reason to revisit the subject. It also doesn’t look great on paper when the next director to tackle this unfortunately true story is J.A. Bayona, who is frequently associated with the abysmal Jurassic World series via his entry, Fallen Kingdom. Fortunately, this attempt to retell the story, known as Society of the Snow, is more in line with Bayona’s earlier works like the tsunami disaster film The Impossible. If that isn’t incentive enough (as, to be honest, it wasn’t quite enough for me, as I think The Impossible’s emotional weight is there but the storytelling is bogged down by Hallmarkian hope), then consider some of the directorial decisions Bayona gets right with Society of the Snow. This includes the casting of mainly unknown actors to portray the struggling Old Christians Club rugby team (and the numerous other passengers on the same flight) as they push themselves to survive and suffer the grief of watching loved ones quickly and/or slowly perish before their very eyes. This allows Society of the Snow to feel like it marches along via the uninhibited reactions of non-professionals (who may have tried to steal scenes or make moments) while allowing the film to never feel like it has a true star or central protagonist. It’s a decision that instantly pays off.

Society of the Snow doesn’t take too long to get into the actual accident, where the Uruguayan Air Force Flight 571 — en route to Santiago, Chile — crashed into the Andes mountains, sending the front half of the plane down a slope while tossing the tail end into another part of the range. It’s a reminder that life can change at an instance, especially because Bayona uses a whopping two hours (of its two-and-a-half hour runtime) to focus solely on the survival itself (with an epilogue that society has referred to as the “Miracle of the Andes”). We’re quickly informed that the survivors are freezing, there’s no proper sustenance nearby, and a ten-day search party has already given up on trying to find the plane. It feels like the film would be overlong at first, but that unsettling feeling plays into the crux of the film’s depictions of perseverance and suffering; you recognize how much more of Society of the Snow remains, and you can only worry about what will transpire if you don’t know every detail of the true story (if you go into Society of the Snow expecting the “cannibal” tale, you clearly don’t know all of the extremities here). Bayona doesn’t instantly play into the expectation either, which is a nice sign of restraint from someone who is known to get carried away by sentimentality or feigned, cinematic emotion.

*Society of the Snow* is mainly headstrong with how it wants to depict its central story of survival, and it (usually) doesn’t get too carried away with cinematic tropes.

The only major setback I can think of is how Society of the Snow actually loses a bit of its emotional core because of how much Bayona tries to overcorrect his usual ways, making the film as by-the-beat as possible: what happened at which part of the circumstance, and how. It almost feels like a checklist at times, down to the casualties being honoured on-screen via their ages in textual form whenever they pass. Thankfully, one of the most moving scores of the year, crafted by the great Michael Giacchino (Up, Ratatouille, Lost), helps carry the film’s emotional resonance along, and the film doesn’t rely solely on the heartbreaking melodies of this score too frequently (no, these tracks are saved for the moments that require them the most). Giacchino’s score is varied enough to supply a backbone to every scene, be they sequences that set the severity of the situation, the meticulousness of piecing together all means necessary to survive, and other crucial concepts. I wouldn’t say the entire film relies solely on this magnificent score, as I think Society of the Snow is strong enough even without it, but Giacchino does rescue the parts of the film that would feel overlong or weak on their own.

While parts of Society of the Snow may feel a bit Spielbergian — with the encouragement of the viewer to not give up on the castaways — I do think it’s important when it comes to understanding the will necessary to survive in the middle of nowhere and with no one looking for you while freezing to death. I also don’t think the film goes overboard with this spark of optimism either; Bayona was never one to get dismal with his films (he’s no Ińárritu, as much as I adore the latter), and he at least doesn’t get carried away with the whimsy in Society of the Snow. I also admire the film’s focus not on the horrors necessary to survive but, rather, on the many avenues explored before these last resorts, which adds to the validity of the film’s existence. Now that Society of the Snow is on Netflix, it may be one of the last awards season hopefuls many households will get to before the BAFTAs and Oscars’ nominations are announced in the upcoming weeks. The film seems to be a considerable contender for Best International Feature Film (as a nominee, anyway) and a dark horse for Best Original Score. I wouldn’t count out this noble take on a gut-wrenching historical event out in either category.

Andreas Babiolakis has a Masters degree in Film and Photography Preservation and Collections Management from Ryerson University, as well as a Bachelors degree in Cinema Studies from York University. His favourite times of year are the Criterion Collection flash sales and the annual Toronto International Film Festival.