The Deer Hunter: 58:48

Director Michael Cimino’s The Deer Hunter (1978) tells the story of three good friends - Michael, Nick, and Steven – about to head off to the war in Vietnam. The eve before they are to ship out, Steven, perhaps in an effort to solidify his position as a member of the community in his steel mill Pennsylvanian hometown, marries his pregnant girlfriend. “If I have a wife and kid to come home to,” he may be thinking, “then maybe I’ll actually be coming home.” The next morning, while Steven is off on a short, one-night honeymoon, Michael and Nick go hunting along with their friends John, Axle and Stan. Together, these five men will spend one more day hunting deer and, in their own way, saying goodbye to each other.

At 58 minutes and 48 seconds, the men pull off the road partway up the mountain and have a quick meal of bread, mustard, bologna, beer, and Twinkies. There, while Michael, the natural leader, prepares his rifle, and while the other men lounge and rest and snack, Stan wanders over to the other side of the road wondering how “they changed” the road.

This shot illustrates not only the individual nature of each character involved, but uses Nature as a looming backdrop, foreshadowing the hardship and tragedy that lay just ahead for the soon-to-be soldiers.

Axle and John stand behind the car, eating. They’re not ready to hunt, they’re not ready to help, and they are most certainly not ready to go to war with their buddies. Nick lays on the hood of the car, not sleeping, but waiting. He refuses to eat in an effort to “keep the fear up,” as he puts it. He is in a constant state of readiness, always contemplating, always thinking. Michael, however, is the only one already in his hunting gear and preparing his rifle, demonstrating that he is indeed that man of action that will, before movie’s end, save his friends to whatever degree he is able. Then he looks back at Stan, disgusted by Stan's insolence and stupidity.

Stan, foolishly decked out in a tuxedo and fur hat, separated from the others, complains that “they changed the road,” whatever that means. He becomes the epitome of the know-it-all complainer, that guy who knows what’s wrong, isn’t afraid to let everyone know, and yet is unable to do anything about it or take responsibility for his own mistakes.

And then there are the mountains looming behind. Foreboding. Indomitable. Ruthless. Harsh. Unforgiving. The wide angle shot allows those mountains to take up the entire sky, the entire background. There is, quite simply, no escaping them, nor can Michael and Nick hope to escape their future.

When I first looked at the shot, my natural inclination was that Stan is the subject of the frame, but now I wonder. The men at the car on the left seem equally balanced with Stan off by himself on the right. Add those mountains into the mix, and the subject of the shot almost becomes Micael's relationship with the three– what he has, what he is leaving behind, and what he will soon encounter.

I'm not sure, though. Am I over thinking this last part? What do you think?