The Mountain Review: An Adorable Kiwi Story About Companionship

      It’s no surprise that Rachel House gives primary credit at the conclusion of her feature debut to Te Kāhui Tupua, the mountain central to The Mountain. Co-written by Tom Furniss (based on his original story), the film tells the story of a young girl named Sam (played by Elizabeth Atkinson) who decides to climb its peak to implore them to use their power to save her life. Having recently learned that her cancer has returned, she hopes that connecting with the ancestry of the father she never knew might assist her. As a result, Sam escapes from the hospital in search of Taranaki Maunga, determined to discover her identity and overcome her illness with the support of two new friends she meets along the journey.

      Mallory (Reuben Francis) joins the adventure because his late mother (who passed away from cancer) always dreamed of hiking it with him and his father, Hugh (Byron Coll). Today is her birthday, and he asks if they can climb in her memory, but is met with a quick dismissal. Conversely, Bronco (Terence Daniel) has no specific goal. He is merely trying to escape and live in the wild as a guardian of nature. He feels resentment over having to move and leaving home early to keep his father, Tux (Troy Kingi), company, only to find that Tux's job consumes all his time. So when Mallory agrees to take on the role of Sherpa for Sam, Bronco decides to tag along.

      Much of the film centers around this young trio building a friendship during an unplanned adventure they are creating as they go. We learn about their lives and the pain they are experiencing while they gaze at the stars, sharing Māori myths and wishes for guidance. Meanwhile, Hugh and Tux realize their sons are missing just as Sam’s mother, Wendy (Fern Sutherland), also becomes aware of this. With the emotionless Peachy (Sukena Shah) included in the mix, this group rushes to the mountain to ensure the kids' safety and to find forgiveness for the circumstances that led to their departure. Hugh is easily swayed by a courtesy text from Mallory, while Tux and Wendy require a bit more persuasion.

      It’s a charming Kiwi story about friendship and understanding. Each character grapples with some form of loneliness and loss without any real way to heal. Although Sam isn’t specifically seeking friendship (she says she “doesn’t do friends”), her escaping from the hospital ultimately brings everyone together in a time of urgent need. However, don’t assume this means House and Furniss are building towards a neatly tied-up happy ending. Cute doesn’t necessarily mean easy. Despite being a comedy with likable characters and humorous moments, the core narrative revolves around cancer. The shadow of death doesn’t fade just because the film knows how to entertain.

      The Mountain excels at treating its family audience with the respect they deserve. It avoids talking down to them or sugar-coating what the children are enduring. It also steers clear of excessive sentimentality, which often plagues adult narratives dealing with similar themes due to our shared desire to avoid uncomfortable truths. That’s not to imply that Mallory and Bronco are unaware of Sam’s situation and prognosis; they simply choose not to let it dictate their interactions with her. If she claims she’s fine, they have no reason to think otherwise. It's only when it becomes evident that she is struggling that they step in with genuine concern, free from the pity Sam cannot tolerate.

      I appreciate how House portrays Taranaki through the clouds enveloping its peak. What initially appears to be a stylistic decision that Sam interprets as a sign (when the clouds clear, she’ll know the mountain is welcoming her) eventually transforms into a supernatural barrier compelling her (and others) to confront the reality of their situation. While death looms over the entire narrative, the ultimate message conveyed is one of acceptance. Accepting the present (Bronco), the past (Mallory), and the future (Sam). The same applies to their parents—acknowledging that their children are stronger than they realize and that their inclination to overprotect is more about their own fears than their children's well-being.

      Although these themes are rich, the plot itself is somewhat minimal. The stakes are not particularly high, and the humor primarily consists of straightforward jokes that rely heavily on the performances of Atkinson, Francis, and Daniel. At one point, I glanced at my watch, surprised to see only 25 minutes remaining, feeling as though not much had transpired. But that’s intentional, right? These kids aren’t meant to advance too far ahead of the adults; the lesson is to be learned collectively. The script deliberately takes its time, allowing the themes to resonate. I would prefer that approach any day.

      The Mountain will be released in theaters on Friday, April 17.