I will always support a film that takes a brave swing. A work that doesn’t feel average. One that marches to the beat of its own drum and isn’t afraid to be… original.

The North is a movie I knew nothing about as I walked into the theater. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little nervous. The story follows two men (Bart Harder and Carles Pulido) who, in hopes of revamping their stretched friendship, have decided to hike The West Highland Way, a trail running across Scotland. Bart Schrijver directs the film from his own script. 

Hiking? Nature? Outside of my long-standing desire to see Scotland and my fondness for cozy (and not-so-cozy) UK-set TV shows… kids, I was worried I wouldn’t vibe with this one. 

Au contraire, dear readers! 

I’ve read a number of pieces calling The North “a journey”. This is true in so many different ways. This is a journey of a film about a journey. Get it? 

The North certainly isn’t an easy sit. Schrijver isn’t afraid to let the narrative stew. For long stretches, Chris (Harder) and Lluis (Pulido) find themselves mired in a painful awkwardness that is far from comfy. 

Once I settled into the story, though, I was struck by the personal pain in these characters. This awkwardness feels immediately familiar in a soulful way. These are two best friends who have grown apart. Despite how much they want to connect, neither is quite the man the other remembers. 

The narrative hit a painfully personal note for me; their broken relationship felt gut-wrenching. I’ve felt this unsettling distance from people I was once close with. I’d go as far as to say it’s a pain that crosses the generations. Sometimes you get married. Sometimes you have kids. Maybe you’re just in different places in life. They may feel the same, but you’re different.

This emotional complexity creates an almost unrelenting tone. This is a tiny film, just our leads and a camera on a walk through the Scottish Highlands. We sit with them; we eat with them. We bunk down in their tent. The audience marinates in the loaded silence, the forced brevity, and the painful awkwardness. The result is a beautiful character study. 

Harder and Pulido absolutely shine in the unflinching, pounding conditions. As the two main characters, they have nowhere to hide. Both, though, share a beautiful, poignant chemistry. It’s easy to believe their history even if we don’t see it. As I watched, I wanted them to find what they once had and relearn how to communicate. Both reach new levels as The North builds to a finale that left me breathless in its emotional intensity. 

The Scottish Highlands, meanwhile, become a third character in the film. A harsh, brutal, strikingly beautiful character. This isn’t uncommon in works set in Scotland. Think of something like Nora Fingscheidt’s The Outrun or even the long-running, BBC Drama Shetland. The sheer power of the wind and the elements imprints itself on the story in a memorable way. 

Schrijver uses wind and rain to draw the audience into the story. In one fascinating moment, the screen is almost black; all the audience hears is the rain pelting the tent. In another beautiful scene, Chris sits alone in the tent. He’s barely holding himself together. All we hear is the wind whipping outside. It’s overwhelming, and as the audience, we’re right there with him. 

The North is an all-encompassing experience. Plain and simple. Sitting in the audience, we’re on this journey with the characters in all its painful, powerful awkwardness. It’s deliberate and winding, but it’s a beautiful, poignant tale. 

The North opens in theaters in the United States October 9th.