I haven’t read Jon Krakauer’s Into the Wild in nearly a decade, but I don’t quite remember it like this. I am, of course, referring to Sean Penn’s film adaptation that hit theaters late last year and has recently arrived on DVD. I had avoided it during its theatrical run, scared away by my own pessimism, which only intensified after reading Penn’s asinine perspective on it. In that interview, one statement in particular, in which Penn responds to park rangers criticizing McCandless’ trek into the wild as idiotic, struck a nerve:
“I’m not all that interested in what the park rangers have to say. I accept that there’s an automatic instinct to judge those you envy and who have more courage than you do, and I think that while he (the ranger) rides around in his four-wheeler on a CB radio getting fat, Chris McCandless has spent 113 days fucking alone in the most unforgiving wilderness that God ever created. You just go out there and take a look at it sometime. This is a guy that wanted to challenge himself in a way that for us to judge would just be ridiculous.”
I disagree. Ostensibly, yes, one could call what McCandless did — abandoning his life of luxury to live off the land in the indifferent wilderness of Alaska — courageous, but this dualistic approach to human nature seems callow and shortsighted. Simply labeling actions as cowardly or courageous or typifying people as heroes or villains marks a reductionist viewpoint of a more complex matter. There’s more subtlety to it, and if we don’t approach it on all levels, even those that don’t put the subject in the best light, how are we to even begin to penetrate the human psyche?
Mr. Penn can paint reality in broad strokes if he pleases, but I’m capable of doing the same and can just as easily label the actions of Mr. McCandless as idealistically foolish or, worse, arrogantly naive. Penn essentially asks who are we to judge, but in his statement, Penn himself asserts a judgment of his own, on the undeserving park ranger whom he apparently views as nothing more than a voice box for society. For Penn, this implies a pernicious form of control. However, I implore you to ask yourself this; who’s more reliable on the matter, a park ranger who is likely quite experienced with the wilderness or this guy?
Penn accuses those who deride McCandless’ journey as doing so for envious reasons, but couldn’t one assume that a form of jealousy may also fuel Penn’s desire to frame McCandless in the most heroic of terms? Could this embody the guilt Penn feels from living a decidedly charmed life as an Oscar-winning actor? Penn has forced himself into a position where his only recourse against what I guess must be the dullness of celebrity is to bitch childishly about a society that, somewhat ironically, has handed him his life on a silver platter. I’m willing to wager that this is what drives Penn to conveniently overlook the other aspect to the story; that McCandless’ quest was a selfish knee-jerk reaction to cravenly abscond from all the real-world problems threatening him.
The basis for conflict throughout Into the Wild comes across in the book’s style, which pieces together narration and interviews (both in support and opposition of McCandless) to tell the story of the 23-year-old who, after graduating, hit the road and lived off the land in an act of petty rebellion (or, if you believe the words of Eddie Vedder, “healthy rebellion”). Krakauer approached McCandless’ actions with a certain degree of impartiality, being sure to cast a critical eye on the matter where it was needed. He understood the idealism, but left his character open to interpretation, giving the reader enough cause to dismiss McCandless as selfish, hubristic and, worst of all, a total jerk. This becomes apparent not only in the way McCandless interacts with others, but in the quest itself, which those knowledgeable about the wilderness (like the unfairly maligned park ranger above) viewed as misguided and, frankly, stupid.
Understandably, Penn’s film version of Into the Wild is a visual mess (hint: including jump cuts in your film doesn’t automatically render it artistic), perhaps resulting from his own confused interpretation of the material. He clearly wants to idealize McCandless’ journey. It shows in his epic shot structure that places McCandless as a master of nature, an integral element in the environment rather than an unwanted trespasser. I don’t for a minute believe Krakauer’s story was intended to inspire us, or compel us to cast off the shackles of society in a mass demonstration of “healthy rebellion.” It was a complex examination of what drives a man to do what McCandless did. For better or worse, McCandless’ tale is thoroughly affecting, not because it melodramatically plunges into how a rigid society and an abusive family life compromised his dreams, but as an insight into what drives mankind to fight in opposition to such systems, be it selfish or justified.
Yes, it’s tragic that McCandless’ life was cut short, but his death resulted from his own decisions and his own failings. You can fault the system (i.e., society) all you want, but that doesn’t explain away the poor choices of the individual. If Werner Herzog’s Grizzly Man embodied a thoughtful examination of mankind’s insignificance in the cold, uncaring gaze of nature, Sean Penn’s Into the Wild represents its childish counterpart, which views nature in hippyish terms. One of those interpretations is founded in brutal realism that takes into account the errors of man, the other amounts to fanciful musings based upon transient bullshit which assumes that all things natural are inherently pure. Can you guess which sort of jackassery Sean Penn is guilty of? Sorry if that sounds judgmental; it’s just what Mr. Penn deserves.
Tags: Chris McCandless, Eddie Vedder, Into the Wild, Jon Krakauer, Sean Penn
