Last Survivors Review- Tainted Love In A Broken World

Drew Mylrea’s film Last Survivors perfectly captures a post-Covid world filled with anxiety about others and the intense desire to retreat from the world.

It’s weird, but extreme social isolation no longer seems that weird in a post-pandemic world. In fact, it is relatable to some and a relief to others who were exhausted by endless hours of small talk and accepted niceties. As many people hated leaving their rich social lives for the safety of their houses, there were others relieved that panic attacks and awkwardness would be a thing of the past, at least for a little while. It is in this strange place that Last Survivors excels. In that fantasy land where the allure of a simple, pure life is appealing until the shine is rubbed off and there is nothing left but melted plastic.

Last Survivors is a thrilling movie that feels like the love child of The Village, and It Comes At Night. Paranoid and intense, it is dread-filled even in the most beautifully natural moments. Troy, an impressibly scary Stephen Moyer, and Jake (Drew Van Acker of Titans) live in the wilderness isolated for safety from a civilization-ending world war. All that remains is devastation, violence, and survivors that can’t be trusted. Troy drills his son constantly about life in the wild and staying vigilant. No one can be trusted but Troy, a hero dad who saved his son from certain death.

The allure of the simple life they have is strong at first. The log cabin is romantic and rustic. The pristine snow and ice sparkle prettier than any diamond. The idea of going somewhere and living with your loved ones unplugged from your phones and work is intriguing. How great would it be to get back to the work of being a family and living with the land rather than on the land?

The two men live on the razors-edge of survival where one wrong step or illness could mean disaster. When Troy is shot defending their property, Jake has to steal supplies from a nearby farm. He was warned by Troy, though, to avoid the residents at all cost. Things rarely pan out as we hope, though, and Jake runs into Henrietta, hiding from the world for different reasons. The two strike up a secretive friendship that threatens to ruin or save both of them.

Lonely broken people tend to leave a trail of damaged things in their wake. Henrietta is hiding from something, and Troy has dark secrets that he isn’t ready to divulge. The only truly innocent person here is Jake, who was so sheltered and stunted by his father’s isolation that he doesn’t understand the depths of what he lost. He has been in the woods with his father since he was a young boy, and now he is somewhere between a lost boy and a man child. He looks thirty but acts more like he’s twelve until he meets Henrietta, that is.

There’s something icky about the relationship Henrietta and Jake share. He views her as some sort of sexy Madonna that is part mother and love interest. Henrietta is sad and lonely, searching for a connection after leaving a bad marriage and leaving her children behind. She is conflicted about their absence, but she seems more interested in obligation and indoctrination than the children themselves. Just as Troy preaches to Jake about the dangers of outsiders, Henrietta wants her children to know her rural life without regard to their wants and needs.

Her confrontation with her ex-husband is ripe with condemnation, but she doesn’t seem equipped to see past her anger with him and find a compromise. We know nothing about their marriage, and maybe he was a gaslighting monster who did not attempt to listen to Henrietta, but it seems like both Troy and Henrietta chose themselves over their children’s best interests.

There are some clunky bits where the message gets lost in a sea of mothers who abandon their children and deranged fathers, but there is clarity and efficiency when exploring the lies we all tell ourselves. Evil lives within, and no amount of plastic avoidance will cure that. It all resolves in an ugly mess of lies, madness, jealousy, discontentment, and misogyny. Troy has been lying so long that he doesn’t remember the truth anymore. In heavily hinted at flashbacks, his secrets are forecast long before the second half twist.

The final act drags a bit. Once we know the truth, there is nowhere for the narrative to go but down a very specific path. The first two-thirds, however, are dread-filled and gorgeous. Moyer delivers an especially chilling portrayal of a nasty piece of work disguised as a doting father, and Alicia Silverstone is solid. Van Acker deftly slides between naive and childish to angry and confused with chameleonic skill. The best moments of Last Survivors are when father and son square off. Van Acker and Moyer really shine when Jake begins questioning his father.

Once you know what is going on, the marching inevitability of the end is tedious rather than satisfying, and the final moments are a tad too saccharine. However, that doesn’t mean the bulk of the movie isn’t worth a watch. As Henrietta points out, hope is a strong motivator. It has a healing power that works better than any salve to heal a broken heart and mind. When you live each moment expecting the absolute worst, it will destroy you. The only real war is the one with ourselves. Last Survivors is streaming VOD and in select theaters now.