Through countless stories of frontier justice and stoic macho, the western genre was a machine of American mythology. In Bitterbrush, Emery Muff Davian’s soothing documentary, with spectacular views and cow summaries, inevitably reminds us of the West or two (at least for the city’s slicker). But by chasing two young women hired as range riders in Idaho, the film presents a unique contemporary photo of hard work and friendship.
Holin Patterson and Collie Moleen are basically freelancers who have contracts to take care of cattle on pastures. They are usually only two humans who can see miles, and their western part is not a metaphor. It’s a workplace with an open sky and rolling hills, and a hut for making beds. Logistics is most of the work. The number of cows (and their accompanying sheep dogs) from here to there, the tactics used to “start” the Colt (saddle training).
Each task is time consuming and performed with simple jokes (Horin’s sense of humor is pleasingly stupid) and mutual attention. The challenge goes on without making a fuss (without making a fuss about not making a fuss). One of the most emotional moments happens at the campfire, when Collie remembers the hand of her mother who died. This is a painfully beautiful scene that almost surprises the movie (and when the wires are entwined, there are echoes in the close-ups of both women’s hands, the scene or two later).
With a score with Bach, the movie almost resists the drama. Holin and Collie’s experience is impressed as a memory of several seasons, not as a spectacle, but with a greedy touch before each moves to the next station in life.
Bitter brush
Unrated. Execution time: 1 hour 30 minutes. At the theater.
