There’s getting away from it all, and there’s what Brad Pitt’s rugged character is doing at the start of “Heart of the Beast.” With his German shepherd by his side, James (Pitt) pilots a Cessna aircraft deep into the Alaskan wilderness, plops down near a gorgeous, deserted lake, and cracks open a cooler of beer. It’s a small patch of heaven for man and dog, as they both chill in the sunshine and catch fish.
This wouldn’t be much of a nature thriller without something going wrong. But the heart of “Heart of the Beast,” directed by David Ayer, will remain in this warm bond between James and Odin, which is what this dappled-face, very good dog is named. They’ve been inseparable ever since James, an Army Special Forces soldier, took on Odin as a combat scout dog, and the traumas of that combat are still visible on Odin’s body (most notably in a discreetly sheathed, shortened leg).
It is of course easy to get cynical about dude-with-a-dog personal journeys (see “Arthur the King,” “Dog,” or the woman-with-a-dog military drama starring Kate Mara, “Megan Leavey”). But as with all truly great stars, Pitt makes you feel, as if by his side, what his character is going through, physically and mentally, rather than question the premise. And James and Odin go through a lot: marooned after an accident, trekking across harsh terrain, wondering whether bears or wolves will hunt them down first. It’s mostly a drama of overcoming obstacles, which James approaches methodically.
Pitt brings a quiet confidence to James and avoids the kind of amped-up tension which might render the film just another escapist survival adventure. He does show the veteran’s fears early on, with just a look in his eyes when he’s haunted by a series of flashbacks to war in Iraq and Afghanistan (muzzy, sandy-beige sequences, which the movie probably could have done without repeating). But Pitt tends to direct our attention to his relationship with Odin rather than just ennoble James as a wounded warrior.
This is, after all, almost entirely a two-hander, or one-hand-and-one-paw-er (with the exception of J.K. Simmons as a grizzled stranger who might have walked in from a John Ford western). Odin is watchful, choosing his moments to act and giving warning, in contrast to cutesier dog behavior that is sometimes seen in movies. He’s also a veteran, and two of the film’s most heart-melting scenes involve James massaging Odin’s war-shortened leg, and the dog racing across a field in an extraordinary expression of pent-up emotion.
The sunny landscapes, filmed in New Zealand for Alaska, practically let you taste the fresh air (especially compared to a pivotal nighttime scene, when the film lets in an eruption of violence). None of it was quite enough to make me forget the awkward problem of a puppy being raised to risk his life in war. But the film chooses and holds its focus well, and it manages to transcend those painful origins with the loyalty that James and Odin show to each other, again and again.
Heart of the Beast Rated PG-13 for violence, peril, bloody images and some language. Running time: 1 hour 41 minutes. In theaters.
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