Actor Adam MacDonald’s debut film as a writer-director, Backcountry, walks down the same road so many horror films have to the point where the subgenre has been parodied in films like The Cabin in the Woods. Jenn (Missy Peregrym) and Alex (Jeff Roop), a young urban couple, head off into the woods on their first camping trip together, but their fun-filled weekend of exploration yields the discovery of something terrifying and horrific. Even the signposts of the genre are in place: early in their sojourn, they stop off at an outpost and are warned by an oddball local to be prepared for the trek on which they’re about to embark. To its credit, however, Backcountry doesn’t exactly end up in the same way that its forebears do; unfortunately, there’s so little meat to this story of human survival versus nature that even its third-act shift to pure persistence against the elements isn’t enough to save it.
Although Alex visited the couple’s wilderness destination as a youngster, he hasn’t been to the great outdoors in a few years; what he lacks in geographical know-how, he makes up for in misplaced masculine pride. There’s a moment in the first act where he turns down a park ranger’s offer for a map; instead of registering as a stubborn character trait, it comes across as merely a contrived setup for the moment halfway through when he realizes he’s completely lost, much to the chagrin of Jenn, whom he had hoped to get closer to on their trip. But the film doesn’t wade into Deliverance territory, nor into The Hills Have Eyes, nor many others of the genre. Jenn and Alex, after spending an hour or so arguing with each other about being stuck in the middle of nowhere with no hope of rescue, end up facing off against a bear that just won’t leave them alone.
It’s here that Backcountry feels a great deal like another low-budget naturalistic horror film, Open Water. Although Jenn and Alex have a lengthy run-in during the first half with an enigmatic Irish guide (Eric Balfour), they are largely the only characters in all 90 minutes, and spend most of it vacillating between yuppie banter and yuppie bickering. That scene with Balfour’s character ends up being extraordinarily superfluous–when he initially appears, it’s treated as a jump scare, and the fact that Jenn invites him to stay temporarily suggests she might see his rugged attitude as some kind of attractive balm to Alex’s more uptight posture. MacDonald introduces this idea, then prudishly tosses it aside; Balfour, while not a marquee name, is arguably the only other recognizable face (from various TV appearances, namely Six Feet Under) next to Peregrym, so his character being relegated to a menacing cameo is more baffling once the film is over.
MacDonald’s direction, coupled with the cinematography and editing, do allow for some forceful impact even in predictable sequences. Take a wild guess what happens when two thirtysomethings out of their depth face off against a bear, and you’re likely correct. Unfortunately, some of the virtuosic technical elements lapse back into now-familiar tropes—when the characters suffer great physical pain, the sound drops out to evoke the feeling they’re experiencing. Peregrym and Roop acquit themselves as well as can be, but the script doesn’t permit Jenn and Alex to be anything more than bland ciphers in a deathly situation for the sole purpose of offering visceral, if low-budget, thrills. Backcountry may zig instead of zag from its facile setup, but even the payoff doesn’t stand out.
