TIFF24 REVIEW: The Mountain [2024]

Rating: NR | Runtime: 89 minutes
Release Date: March 28th, 2024 (New Zealand)
Studio: Piki Films / Madman Films
Director(s): Rachel House
Writer(s): Tom Furniss & Rachel House / Tom Furniss (story)

Blinkin’ disrespectful.

It’s no surprise Rachel House gives the first credit at the end of her feature debut to Te Kāhui Tupua: the mountain at the center of The Mountain. Co-written by Tom Furniss (from his original story), the film follows a young girl (Elizabeth Atkinson’s Sam) who decides to climb their peak in order to request that they use their power to save her life. She’s recently discovered her cancer returned and hopes tapping into the ancestry of the father she never met might help. So, Sam escapes the hospital in pursuit of Taranaki Maunga, emboldened to find her identity and conquer her illness in one fell swoop with the assistance of two new friends met along the way.

Mallory (Reuben Francis) makes the journey because his late mother (who died of cancer) always wanted to hike it one day with him and his father (Byron Coll’s Hugh). Today happens to be her birthday, so he asked if they could climb it in her honor only to be met with a quick deflection. Bronco (Terence Daniel) conversely has no specific destination. He’s simply attempting to run away and live in the wild as a conservator of Mother Earth. He’s angry that he had to move here, had to leave early to keep his father (Troy Kingi’s Tux) company, and had to discover Dad’s work leaves no time for him. So, when Mallory agrees to be Sam’s Sherpa, Bronco tags along.

The majority of the film therefore focuses on this young trio becoming friends on an impromptu adventure they’re making up as they go. We learn about their lives and current pain as they look at the stars to share Māori myths and wishes for guidance. All the while, Hugh and Tux realize their sons are missing just as Sam’s mom Wendy (Fern Sutherland) does the same. Add in the emotionless-by-design Peachy (Sukena Shah) and this quartet races to the mountain to ensure the kids are okay … and to forgive themselves for allowing the circumstances in which they left in the first place. Hugh is easily swayed (thanks to Mallory sending a courtesy text). Tux and Wendy need a bit more.

It’s a cute little Kiwi tale about friendship and understanding. Each of the characters are dealing with loneliness and loss of some kind with no real outlet in which to find healing. Sam wasn’t necessarily searching for companionship (she “doesn’t do friends”), but her ducking out of the hospital ultimately brings them all together in a desperate time of need. Don’t assume that means House and Furniss are working towards some bow-tied happily ever after, though. Cute does not equal easy. Because despite this being a comedy with enjoyable characters and humorous flights of fancy, the narrative through line is still cancer. That specter of death doesn’t disappear just because a film knows how to have fun.

The strongest part of The Mountain is that it treats its family friendly audience with the respect they deserve. It never talks down to them by sugar-coating what these kids are going through. It never falls prey to artificial sentiment either like so many adult stories with the same subject matter do as a result of our collective desire for avoidance. That’s not to say Mallory and Bronco aren’t aware of Sam’s condition and prognosis. They simply don’t let it guide how they interact with her. If she says she’s good to go, there’s no reason to assume otherwise. It’s only when it’s obvious that she’s struggling that they intervene with honest concern devoid of the pity Sam cannot stand.

And I love how House deals with the personification of Taranaki via the clouds covering their peak. What at first just looks like an aesthetic choice that Sam can pretend is a sign (once they disappear, she’ll know the mountain is inviting her in) soon becomes a supernatural barrier meant to force her (and everyone else) into confronting the truth. Even though death looms large above the whole, the real message is one of acceptance. Accepting one’s present (Bronco). Accepting one’s past (Mallory). And accepting one’s future (Sam). The same goes with their parents too as far as acknowledging their kids are stronger than they think. They must accept that overprotection isn’t for the child’s benefit. It’s for them.

While there’s depth to these concepts, the plot itself is somewhat slight. The stakes don’t pretend to be high and the jokes are mostly straightforward gags that excel on the backs of Atkinson, Francis, and Daniel’s performances. At one point I looked at my watch to see there were only twenty-five minutes left and scratched my head because nothing really happened yet. But that’s intentional, right? These kids aren’t supposed to get too far ahead of the adults because the lesson is meant to be learned together. So, the script must stretch itself thin to provide ample time for its themes to resonate. I’ll take that result over the opposite every day of the week.