Film review - Once We Were Wolves

Once We Were Wolves
Cameron Hanes
Branlin Shockey

The distance between hunters and the quotes we use is much further than we would like to admit. We want to think that our inner wolf has not been bred out, but honest reflection reveals most of us are ornery little mutts snapping at others in the comment section, prancing properly at a pretentious show, or strutting untested about the civilized neighborhood not completely sure we wouldn’t cower and whimper in the wild.

Just before the five-minute mark, Cam Hanes mentions that the woods are where you can find out who you really are. But the sad thing is that we are increasingly looking to social media to find who we are. Even hunters. Because we have so much available to us, it’s easy for us to look the part.

And therein lies the problem.

Modern convenience and connectivity allows us to live at a fraction of our own potential, but market ourselves as though we are in the same stratosphere as hunters like Hanes. Worse yet, we can start to believe the protagonist we have created is real and miss the real meaning of the character’s arc. What makes Cam Hanes, Cam Hanes, is that his journey started well before he was marketable. He didn’t attempt to get the fame before he had the substance. He had already separated himself from ordinary long before he became a bestseller.

With all this in mind, the film does not start with an over-the-top Michael Bay feeling as a way to match the stardom of Hanes. It’s a subtle, almost understated film that says:

This is a story about Cam Hanes returning to Alaska to hunt…
Not:
This is Cam Hanes so we pulled out all the stops. We’re going to make this bigger and better and make a ton of money because we you know you’ll watch.

You get the idea that Hanes doesn’t need this, which you can’t say about many others in the industry who seem to crave the light and attention. I’m not really sure what the feeling is, but there’s a difference between someone who approaches a hunt with a “look at what I am made of” and “hunting shows what you are made of.” There’s attempting to look authentic, and being authentic. Being authentic typically involves not using the word. It seems like Hanes doesn’t care how he looks, which could be a product of his fame. Or that could have been part of what propelled him to fame. Hanes can stand on reputation and his style is well-established so there isn’t a feeling of desperation. Some films seem like auditions, as though the hunters are attempting to announce their arrival rather than just be who they are and film a hunt.

There are interesting sub plots both of Hanes’s return to Alaska and the still fresh coping of his friend’s death. It’s not recent, but anyone who has lost anyone knows that time is not an indicator of healing. It can be, but emotion can cover a lot of distance when it decides to charge. There is also the theme of the film which is how far we have devolved as a species from our roots as survivors. Few people would actually choose to live 100 years ago when Likes weren’t a thing and people died from things like polio and diphtheria. But the point is the unnecessary destruction of values and self-sufficiency that came with the rugged, hunting life. “A forgotten way to live” (24:37).

The clockwise turning was a cool idea at 30:16 but went a few revolutions too many and I almost threw up.

Some films are all gas. Red Bull and whiskey. Bad jokes, bravado and fist pumping after kill shots. An expected hunting industry production. I have never seen a hunting film that could really qualify as cerebral, but some do evoke much more thought than others. The “confessions of the mountains” (37:17) doesn’t seem a forced attempt at depth. It does seem like people fully aware of how fake so many of those lines sound, especially when they are used as filler to bridge the arrival and the excitement of the stalk. So rather than get a shot of us pretending to be emotional, they just open up.  

I don’t like it when Hanes says he’s prepared to die. Maybe this is because I just finished reading The Grizzly Maze with my Adventure/Survival literature class and Timothy Treadwell says it often before he gets himself and friend eaten. I don’t think it needs to be said, especially within the context of everything else in the hunt. I think the ethos Hanes creates is I know death is a possibility, but I’ve prepared enough so I likely won’t. Either way, I’d rather take the risk than die on the couch.

Prepared to die sounds like what soldiers say before storming the beaches at Normandy. But again, Hanes doesn’t speak it with the bravado of someone who came across their new favorite Instagram quote. He’s not some jackass who is thinking about sponsorships and the podcast tour he’ll do after he hopefully kills this bear. I have absolutely nothing against sponsorships. Skill should be rewarded. I just don’t like when notoriety seems to be No. 1, antlers/rug are No. 2 and whatever meat the hunter can afford to fly home is No. 3. That’s not Hanes, but other people will surely use that phrase and bark like a vicious alpha male…from inside the house.

Anyway, by the 40-minute mark I wonder if Hanes will tag a bear. Then comes the turning point which accelerates the story. There’s a boar. The quiet breath of Hanes as he holds…holds…holds…then lets down is simple. It doesn’t have to be stated or explained and gives the viewer credit which I really like. There are people who share clips poking fun at some of the classic NFL commentators who became pros in a time when less was more. Before it was an endless stream of catch phrases. Just watch. Let the moment speak.

Hanes draws again. Shoots.

It looks like a good shot, and is good enough, but not perfect. The heat is turned up on the subplots as the tracking takes the crew to the edge of a maze of cover. You know Hanes survives, but Hanes said he was prepared to die and he’s now leading the recovery effort with only his bow. He doesn’t want a rifle to be used if the bear is not dead and given the location, there might not even be time for an effective shot anyway. He’s in Alaska for the first time since an accident killed his friend, now here he is walking into precisely what gets people killed. This is pretty tense.

Hanes holds on the bear and attempts to find a shooting lane. The bear gets up, Hanes releases, as does the guide from his rifle. The bear is dead.

“My destiny was interrupted…I did get an arrow off…would that have killed it before it could have killed me? Don’t know. My destiny was removed from 100% my actions.”

The destiny removed talk as Hanes is hiking out is potentially haunting. Someone that driven may actually feel he cheated the experience and animal because he hadn’t done it all himself. Honor in an archery hunt means no rifles so the fact one was used to finish off the charging bear clearly rattles Hanes.

The camera brings out plenty of false bravado and dark humor is often shared by people in life-or-death occupations. Then there’s Hanes. Steve Rinella has joked about how he wouldn’t mind being eaten by a grizzly. But after his encounter on Afognak it seems he much prefers to have lived to tell the story. As Hanes is packing out the bear, it seems he feels he cheated death and to do so on a trip in which he is honoring his friend who didn’t, is heavy.

There is no way the weight of this film could be manufactured or scripted. It’s nearly an hour, but doesn’t drag. The editing is clean, shots are interesting and clearly professional.

If anything, Hanes’s legend will grow. Even Cam Hanes is vulnerable not only to emotion, but shots that need to be followed up. That should be comforting, if not inspiring, for the rest of us.

Cam Hanes is clearly on a different level, but he is human, just like us and I like him more because of it.