While the stories they’re telling typically vary from film to film, some directors’ filmographies reveal a throughline of personal interests, themes, and/or places. Steven Spielberg frequently makes his films about families in distress, Quentin Tarantino often explores past truths with a skewed eye from the present, and Adam MacDonald? Well, he wants you to know that nature, and the woods in particular, absolutely wants you dead. From a marauding bear in Backcountry (2014) to demonic forces in Pyewacket (2017), it’s clear that forests have somehow wronged MacDonald, and his films are his warning to others. That beef continues with his latest film, Out Come the Wolves, and in addition to continuing the idea that nature is no place for the unafraid, it has something else in common with his two previous movies too — it’s really fucking good.
Sophie (Missy Peregrym) and her fiancé Nolan (Damon Runyan) are enjoying a peaceful visit to a remote cabin in the woods. Fools. Kyle (Joris Jarsky), her longtime friend since childhood, is joining to catch up on old times and to teach Nolan the ways of the land for an upcoming piece he’s writing about hunting and survival. Sophie’s an expert in those matters too, but as Kyle discovers, she’s left most of it behind for the comforts of a new life that doesn’t involve killing wild animals. Tensions simmer as Kyle’s feelings for her clearly go beyond mere friendship, Nolan’s masculinity is feeling threatened, and the two men head out the next morning — only for one of them to return a few hours later, bloodied and unsure if the other is even alive. Turns out Sophie’s hunting days aren’t quite over yet.
The forest setting aside, Out Come the Wolves shares additional DNA with MacDonald’s vicious debut, Backcountry. While some of us (ie me) are choosing to see this as a direct sequel — Peregrym once again battles wild animals and her poor choice in men! — it’s instead a continuation of themes and ideas regarding our very place in nature. We may be (arguably) civilized, bipedal, and capable of inventing things like the Snuggie and the Cornballer, but we’re still animals as quick to turn on prey as we are each other. And while we have our days, we’re far from the scariest thing out there among the trees. Case in point? A pack of hungry and fearless wolves.
MacDonald doesn’t waste a second of Out Come the Wolves‘ sparse running time (87 minutes!) and ensures every frame is working to set the tone, explore his characters, and tell a story. There’s a immediate feel of isolation in overhead shots of the landscape, and as the interruption of an ATV echoes through the forest the engine’s roar takes on the eerie snarl of a beast in waiting. We know to expect the wolves, but it’s a telling bit of sound design that suggests they sometimes come in human clothing.
“Nature has a way of showing you who you really are,” says Sophie, and it’s a lesson all three of them are about to learn. Kyle recalls a promise made when they were kids, that they would eventually get together if they both wound up alone at forty, but as Sophie has to remind him, she’s not alone. For his part, Nolan is disconnected from the land and trying to do better, but his caveman jealousies and insecurities are in full force. It’s a combustible triangle made taut by Enuka Okuma‘s script, and while the fuse is lit the night before during a tense conversation between the two men, it doesn’t explode until their outing sees them cross paths with their inner fears and some four-footed alphas.
Animal attack films have been somewhat watered down in recent decades as filmmakers struggle to create an experience without putting animal performers at risk, typically by using CG and/or puppets — and this is a good thing. Some fare better than others, but MacDonald remains undefeated. Backcountry features the most intense, blood-curdling animal attack the screen has ever seen, and Out Come the Wolves sees the filmmaker reutilizing that skillset to great effect using every tool at his disposal.
It’s unnerving when the very real wolves come calling and pacing around their human prey, and the nightmare dials up to eleven as they move in for the kill. Live wolves and effects, intercut with sharp editing and guttural growls, elevated further by screams of terror and the gnashing of canines — we feel the fear and tighten our own fists as flesh is torn and blood is splashed across the dirt. The initial attack scene is an extremely harrowing ordeal, and the wolves remain a constant threat as Sophie heads out to rescue (or retrieve) the missing man.
All three performers do strong work in Out Come the Wolves balancing affection and personality alongside varying degrees of inner human ugliness, something that not all actors are capable of or interested in doing. Peregrym is playful and loving until the shit hits the fan, at which point she becomes a force to be reckoned with and the exact person you’d want at your back when a hairy, toothy beast wants to eat you for dinner. Runyan has the unenviable role of uncool city boy, and he’s believable in his battle between insecurity and sincerity. It’s Jarsky who nearly steals the human show, though, as a man whose gruff exterior is merely a costume hiding the scared and lonely boy within. All three lay their truths bare without becoming wholly unlikable, and that’s no small feat.
Out Come the Wolves is a tight, thrilling, and viciously intense tale of survival that knows our own inner weaknesses can be every bit as dangerous as exterior threats. Both are on full display here as human actions (and inactions) share the screen with wolf attacks, bloody carnage, and a palpable sense of hopelessness and terror. If Spielberg’s Jaws (1975) left your family vacationing inland, MacDonald’s latest will have you canceling your upcoming camping trip in favor of a nice stroll downtown. Now seriously, someone tell me what happened to MacDonald in the woods…
