Society of the Snow review – a visceral survival drama

Over the last two decades, hit TV shows like Lost and Yellowjackets have injected supernatural and mystical elements into plane crash survival stories. This nightmare scenario is already terrifying without smoke monsters and creepy symbols carved into wood. Society of the Snow doesn’t hold back on dishing out real-world terror in depicting the Uruguayan 1972 Andes flight disaster and the young rugby players stranded on the isolated snowy mountain range.

Adapted from Pablo Vierci’s 2009 book of the same name, director JA Bayona crafts a large-scale spectacle without compromising poignant details, equally wowing us with impressive locations (including the actual crash site) and the underlying and unrelenting resilience of the survivors.

Given that Bayona first read Vierci’s in-depth recount while in deep research for The Impossible — portraying the 2004 tsunami in Thailand — it is hardly surprising that he was drawn to another true tale capturing the human capacity for escaping the most treacherous circumstances. Rather than opting for famous faces like Ethan Hawke in Frank Marshall’s 1993 English-language version of this story, the Spanish director wisely cast a group of mostly unknown young Uruguayan and Argentine actors who instantly sell the lived-in team camaraderie, from the rugby pitch to the wreckage.

While you might not remember everyone’s names as their physical appearance shrinks and hair grows longer, this is much more than a technically brilliant film. Scenes showcasing poetry, prayer and devices fashioned to aid existence emphasise how art, religion and engineering are a lifeline. In an ensemble this large, some character development gets lost amid the broader exploration. However, standouts Enzo Vogrincic (Numa), Agustín Pardella (Nando), and Matías Recalt (Roberto) hammer home the pendulum swing of hope and despair taking hold throughout this ordeal.

Striking cinematography is matched by the hair and makeup design (Ana López-Puigcerver, David Martí and Montse Ribé are nominated for an Oscar), with grim injuries, malnutrition, and elements-ravaged facial features offering additional texture to the already fraught circumstance.

Switching between the oppressive vast space of the snowy mountains and the cramped metal confines of the fuselage shows a filmmaker equally adept at increasing anxiety in and outside the plane wreckage. For the crash itself, it feels like a lifetime from turbulence to impact, and even then, the camera does not pull away. It is a gut-wrenching sequence that isn’t even the most heart-in-your-mouth moment of the film, and Bayona takes claustrophobia to new heights — or rather, depths. Thankfully, it isn’t gruesome for gruesome sake, and when it comes to sourcing food, there is dignity and compassion for both the dead and living in how this infamous last-resort choice is depicted.

Michael Giacchino tempers the soaring score so it doesn’t enter overtly grandiose territory. As with his work on Lost, it cranks up suspense and emotions, particularly when the action ventures beyond the crash site. Even if you know how this famous story ends, the final act is an exercise in tension-building that makes this visceral survival drama memorable long after the credits finish.

Little White Lies is committed to championing great movies and the talented people who make them.

By becoming a member you can support our independent journalism and receive exclusive essays, prints, weekly film recommendations and more.