There was a surge of barbaric violence in horror during the 2000s. Looking back, this cinematic trend was a reflection of the general ethos. And while the United Kingdom’s output might not have matched the peaks of the New French Extremity or the burgeoning brutality of American neo-slashers, there were bursts of comparable cruelty seen in domestic offerings like Eden Lake and The Descent. However, a similar film, M.J. Bassett’s Wilderness, somehow slipped through the cracks in spite of its veritable mean streak.
This 2006 film starts at a juvenile detention center called Moorgates. Colorless, completely run-down, and lacking in compassion, the facility is a last resort for society’s young outliers. Moorgates welcomes a new addition, Callum (Toby Kebbell), who has history with the uncaring overseer, Jed (Sean Pertwee). Bullying among the detainees eventually comes to a head after being ignored for so long by the adults; one of the inmates, Davie, (John Travers) takes his own life. Now, Jed salvages a tragic situation by teaching the offenders involved “a bloody lesson.”
Jed soon takes the inmates to a private island for a series of character-building exercises. In attendance are Steve, Lewis, Blue, Jethro, Lindsay, and Callum. Steve and Lewis (Stephen Wight, Luke Neal) are the most culpable in Davie’s death; Blue (Adam Deacon) is trouble just waiting to happen; Jethro (Richie Campbell) is about as level-headed as someone can be in this band of misfits; Lindsay (Ben McKay) is the group’s new punching bag; Callum hopes to keep his head low until he ages out of the foster system. Like Bassett’s debut, Deathwatch, Wilderness hinges on its ensemble cast. Callum is predetermined to be the last man standing, but the story makes that fate hazy by giving him and everyone else about the same level of characterization and development. No one is exactly safe here.
The men are not the only ones in these woods; a veteran named Louise (Alex Reid) is supervising Mandy and Jo (Lenora Crichlow, Karly Greene) nearby. They first agree to keep their distance to avoid fraternization, but they have to band together once it becomes clear someone else is here. What began as a glorified camping trip for improving morale and behavior quickly escalates into a fight for survival.
Wilderness and Neil Marshall’s Dog Soldiers are on a similar wavelength in light of their setups and levels of viciousness. This film’s characters are loathsome enough as it is, but their life-or-death nightmare brings out the worst in them. Pulling unprepared urbanites away from their safe spaces and dropping them into unpredictable scenarios is a timeless plot on its own. Bassett and writer Dario Poloni spice up their film by allowing multiple obstacles. Along with a camouflaged killer armed with arrows and attack dogs are the offenders themselves; everyone turns on each other at some point or another. There is no teamwork here because, as far as everyone is concerned, it is every man for himself.
There is an irony to Jed taking these young men to the island in the first place. What he thought would finally straighten them up after the Davie incident — really a Band-Aid for a gunshot wound — does the complete opposite. With everything now spiraling out of control, Jed’s boys think there is no law and order left to follow. No one to stop them from doing whatever makes them feel good at the moment. They fear for their safety as well as indulge in absolute wantonness.
For as long as these miscreants can remember, they have been dismissed as undesirables who do not fit in. For someone like chronic sex offender Blue, that assessment is warranted. Callum, on the other hand, is written off by Jed himself; he was sent to Moorgates because he accidentally killed his aggressor. Jed then naturally assumes Callum is behind these mysterious attacks on the island and turns everyone against him. Louise has no biases and feels obliged to hear Callum’s case like any proper social worker should. This bit of consideration is not something Callum is used to seeing, but Wilderness is a dog-eat-dog story. Compassion and benevolence will not protect someone from irrational rage.
Although the film was mainly shot in rural parts of Northern Ireland, the crew and cast still felt a good deal of the political tension. The discomfort on their part creeps its way into the story, seeing as production was never too far from military exercises. Meanwhile, the location’s vast greenery and woodlands break up the brooding and grimy palette seen throughout. This era of horror is rife with dreary and pensive cinematography as a way to convey hopelessness and beseech basic sympathy from the audience. An unsung feeling of doom hangs heavy in these sort of lawless horror films, and a lot of that has to do with the grungy colors and mien. Empty landscapes and vistas help reassert how detached Callum and the others are from society.
Bassett’s film plays on its characters’ impulses and creates an unceasing thriller that is one part slasher and one part Lord of the Flies. Wilderness admittedly has nothing on the most transgressive genre films in existence, but it also does not lack in depravity for entertainment. The tide has certainly turned when discussing those films forged in the angriest decade of horror. Perhaps now Wilderness will finally be recognized for its own sadistic efforts.
Horrors Elsewhere is a recurring column that spotlights a variety of movies from all around the globe, particularly those not from the United States. Fears may not be universal, but one thing is for sure — a scream is understood, always and everywhere.
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