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[#MovieReview] 'Fur, Forgiveness, and Silence' — The Never-Ending Night of The Revenant and the American Myth by Oma [#Podcast Episode Introduction]

'Reel Friends in Tokyo' is a movie introduction podcast brought to you by personalities 'Mako' and 'Oma'. In this note, we delve into the acclaimed works, masterpieces, and even cult classics featured in the podcast episodes, exploring them from our unique perspectives to provide behind-the-scenes stories not covered in the show, personal deep dives, and supplementary information for our listeners.

Each time, we summarize the key points of the talks and discussions from the podcast, original insights from both Mako and Oma, and personal movie reviews—ranging from honest talk that often goes off-track. Whether you are a listener or not, please feel free to relax and enjoy.

You can listen to the latest episode of the program here ↓


Chapter 1: God is Silent, and Blood Speaks: The Contours of Faith in The Revenant

At the heart of Christian ethics lies the concept of 'forgiveness.' Romans 12:19 in the Old Testament states: 'Vengeance is mine; I will repay.' It teaches that letting go of the right to vengeance is to entrust everything to God's justice.

The protagonist of #TheRevenant, Hugh Glass, stands precisely at that crossroads of faith. In the midst of 'suffering'—trapped in a snow-covered wilderness, attacked by Indians, betrayed by his companions, and seeing his son killed before his eyes—he chooses 'survival rather than revenge.' However, this is not merely about extending his life. He avoids taking the burden of vengeance upon himself until the very end.

In this respect, Glass is not just the protagonist of a 'revenge tale.' He is, rather, a 'sacred anomaly' torn between Christian morality and violence. The visions repeated in the wilderness, the prayer-like monologues, and the fact that the existence of God only appears as mere words—these are all the figures of a lonely believer attempting to converse with a silent God.

However, a contradiction emerges here. Christianity teaches that 'all life has equal value,' yet what was carried out in its name was the persecution of Native Americans and the seizure of their land. The ideology of #ManifestDestiny, which claims to be the 'will of God,' justified the branding of other cultures as 'barbaric' and their erasure as a 'civilizing mission' in the name of justice.

The film depicts the story of an individual exposed to such a twist of 'faith and violence.' Although Glass is a British settler, he built a family with an Indian woman and speaks their language. In other words, he is an existence standing on the boundary between 'civilization' and 'nature,' 'ruler' and 'ruled.' That 'intermediacy' is what symbolically brings him closer to 'Christ.'

Is the 'God' in Glass's words truly the God of Christianity? Or is it a more abstract symbol of 'forgiveness' and 'rebirth'? Was his prayer heard, or was it just absorbed into the snow—we still do not have a clear answer to this question.

Chapter 2: Who Was Judas? The Revenant as a Fable of Faith and Betrayal

The title 'The Revenant' means 'a ghost' or 'one who has returned from the dead for revenge.' But after watching this film, we end up reinterpreting it as 'one who appeared while dragging forgiveness.' A #ghost is an existence that returns, carrying pain that was never spoken of even after death.

Viewed in a Christian context, Hugh Glass's position is clear. Attacked by a bear, left for dead, buried in the earth, and treated as a 'dead man,' he rises again and begins to walk his own path. His figure follows the structure of the 'resurrection myth,' where Christ suffers, dies, is resurrected, and appears before people again.

But who is 'Judas' in this myth?

John Fitzgerald leaves Glass to die for financial reward and kills his son, Hawk. This overlaps with the episode in the Bible where 'Judas Iscariot' sells out Christ for 30 pieces of silver. The line where he talks about the value of the fur, saying he 'sold it for 30 pieces,' also rings with irony.

What is interesting is how the 'aftermath' of the betrayal is depicted. In the Bible, Judas repents, is crushed by guilt, and takes his own life. But Fitzgerald runs away, does not apologize, and continues to act for self-preservation. His words, 'It was to survive,' are replaced by a logic that justifies survival rather than ethics.

What does this discrepancy in depiction mean?

If Glass equals Christ and Fitz equals Judas, there is an important difference in how they 'end their relationship.' In the Bible, Christ does not show anger or retaliation toward Judas, but silently entrusts it to God. Afterward, Judas takes his own life, and the relationship is severed. But in 'The Revenant,' Glass reserves retaliation until the very last moment, saying, 'Revenge is in God's hands.' And he ultimately leaves the 'treatment' of Fitzgerald to the hands of the Native Americans.

What emerges here is a stance that presents the concept of 'forgiveness' not just as a moral or religious virtue, but as a structural problem of 'who gets their hands dirty.' By avoiding becoming a direct perpetrator and speaking words of faith at the end, Glass confirms his own 'ethics.'

But was it really 'forgiveness'?

Psychologist Erich Fromm argued that true forgiveness is an 'act predicated on love and freedom.' In other words, it must be a choice made through autonomous will, not out of fear, anger, or conditional motives. Was Glass's act of 'surrendering to God' truly such a free choice? Or was it merely a euphemism for his hesitation to dirty his own hands?

Chapter 3: Prayer in Silence—Native American Spirituality and the Voices of the Dead

What appears repeatedly in 'The Revenant' is wordless prayer. The snowy forest, the flickering fire, the flowing water, the animal carcasses, and the wife and child appearing in dreams. Each of these is as quiet as if symbolizing #NativeAmerican spirituality, providing a faint warmth to a frozen world.

Another core element of this film is the worldview of 'animism,' depicted in parallel with Christianity. Animism is the belief that spirituality resides in all natural objects. Mountains, rivers, animals, and the wind all have souls. The sense of living alongside those souls lies at the foundation of #IndigenousAmerican culture.

The scenes where Glass hears the voice of his late wife or is guided by the phantom of his child are close to 'communion with ancestral spirits' rooted in that faith. These depictions are almost like #shamanistic rituals, suggesting that a passage still exists between the souls of the dead and the living.

What is noteworthy here is the fact that his 'Christian faith' and 'animistic prayer' intersect. In other words, Glass does not simply believe in God; he adopts an attitude of 'seeing God in nature.' This is deeply connected to his background of having built a family with an Indian woman and becoming familiar with her language and customs.

Such a 'hybrid of faith' is not merely a mixture of religions, but also an act of self-reconstruction. When he, who was dying, betrayed, and had lost everything, rises again, his prayer is not a petition to the Christian 'Father God,' but rather a silence directed toward the 'spirits of the forest,' resembling a sigh carried on the wind.

Psychologist Carl Jung called religious experience 'a dialogue with the unconscious through a system of symbols.' In other words, through visible rituals and words, we are attempting to connect with our inner depths. The visions Glass sees and the family in his dreams are the voices of the unconscious as such 'symbols,' and they were the driving force supporting his resurrection.

'Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside, awakes.'
― Carl Gustav Jung
'If you look outside, you dream. If you look inside, you awaken.'

If there are still 'voices to be told' in beings that civilized society deems 'dead'—perhaps Glass was a ghost who moved forward while listening intently to those voices.

And that final shot. The moment he looks back at us, I feel as though we ourselves are being tested. Whose voices have we ignored? Which prayers have we pretended not to hear? The silence is still there.

Chapter 4: The Violence of Manifest Destiny—The Silencing and Victimization Behind the 'Frontier Myth'

The story of 'The Revenant' is set in the early 19th century, the dawn of the American westward expansion. However, when considering this historical context, the 'quiet violence' that permeates the film goes far beyond a mere story of survival or revenge, stepping into the shadows of the American founding myth.

#ManifestDestiny—this was an ideology that spread in 19th-century America, claiming that 'this land was given by God, and it is the divine destiny of white people to conquer and rule it.' In other words, it was the justification of political and cultural invasion under the shield of religious fatalism. Under the beautiful name of the #FrontierMyth, numerous #IndigenousCultures were destroyed, land was stolen, and languages and faiths were 'corrected.'

The trappers who appear in 'The Revenant' are those living at the fringes of that history. They head into the wilderness to obtain furs, eliminating natives as 'obstacles,' and accepting this as a matter of course as an economic activity. As Fitzgerald says, the value system that 'the only way is to kill all the Indians' is not merely the ramblings of a madman, but symbolizes the dominant sentiment of society at the time.

Furthermore, 'The Revenant' depicts a complex composition where not only white people but diverse forces are intertwined, such as 'conflicts between Indians' and 'trade with the French.' However, what consistently drifts in the background is the question of 'who does the land belong to' and 'whose voice remains in history.'

The 'hero' in the American founding myth was a white man who crossed the frontier to pave the way. But in his shadow, there were people who silently disappeared. People who lived with the spirits of the land, people who prayed for the turning of the seasons through dance, and people who inherited the voices of the dead as a 'circle.' Their 'voices' were stolen and erased in the name of 'pioneering.'

Glass's existence is a small noise against that structure. Although he is a settler, he has an indigenous wife and speaks their language. In other words, he is a figure of the 'rift' who cannot fully belong to either side—victimization and victimhood, civilization and nature, white and indigenous. His survival is not just a personal struggle. His journey is also one of gathering the remaining fragments of the connections between human relationships and nature that were torn apart by American modernization.

'The most dangerous creation of any society is the man who has nothing to lose.'
― James Baldwin
'In any society, the most dangerous person is the one who has nothing to lose.'

If so, is Glass a 'man who has lost everything,' or a 'man who has been robbed'? Or was he a spokesperson for an untold history who was 'neither'?

Even now, under the name of "civilization," are we not justifying something and silencing someone?

Chapter 5: The Story of Killing the Father — The Revenant and the End of Modernity

'The Revenant' is a survival film. It is a revenge drama and a story of conflict in faith. But if there is another way to read it, it is as a "story of killing the father."

The "father" here is not merely a family relationship. It is a symbol of the "authority" that #ModernSociety has built, and the very structure that monopolizes justice. The symbol of #Paternity is one who maintains order, one who punishes, and one who points out the path to follow. Fitzgerald, whom Glass pursues, is outwardly "one of the group," but he is depicted as a symbol of a certain violent "paternity."

He is the person who took the life of the son, Hawk, and robbed Glass of his "future." The "son" here is hope, inheritance, and a bridge between culture and faith. Hawk's existence is also a symbol connecting white people and indigenous people, and his death is depicted as if to announce the impossibility of reconciliation between the two.

Psychologically, #patricide is a central concept in Freudian psychoanalysis. For a person to establish themselves, they must overcome the absolute other—that is, the "father." But what is depicted in 'The Revenant' is not a desire to kill. It is rather a perverse structure of "killing by not killing."

The choice not to take Fitzgerald's life directly with his own hands. Ethically, it looks like "forgiveness," but in reality, it is "exclusion" and "severance." He can no longer return to Glass's world. He disappears from history without dying. He is forced to "live while dead" in silence.

Here lies the struggle to "have ethics without killing the father and without having a god." He does not seek revenge in the name of God, does not rely on the law, and is not consumed by anger. Instead, he chose to "continue to exist in the world without anyone possessing justice."

And this structure is being thrust upon us who live in the 21st century.

Institutions, nations, religions, and families—the structure of "paternity" that was once absolute is now nothing more than an object of distrust and suspicion. Yet, we still seek ethics. In a society where the location of responsibility is ambiguous, how do we create "righteousness"? The choice of "not killing" that Glass made may have been one response to that question.

“To forgive is to set a prisoner free and discover that the prisoner was you.”
— Lewis B. Smedes
“To forgive is to set a prisoner free, and to realize that the prisoner was yourself.”

What are we trying to protect now by killing what?

Chapter 6: And the Sky You Were Watching — From a "Story of Revenge" to a "Story of the Viewer"

(Last scene) Glass looks at us quietly.
In the sky he looks up at, no one's figure is reflected. There is only snow, wind, and silence.

At the end of 'The Revenant,' Glass stares at the camera—that is, at "us." There are no words or anger there. He is just quietly looking at us. That gaze no longer seems to be that of a "character in the story," but rather questioning "us who are watching the story."

At this moment, the #RevengeDrama ends. And the question of "whose story it is" is inverted.

From the beginning of the film, we have tried to empathize with the "legitimacy of revenge" and the "strength of survival" through Glass's body. But his final gaze pushes that away. The pleasure of achieving revenge and the proof of trust in God are not there. There is only the gaze of "one exhausted human being."

And I think. Was the sky he was watching the same as the sky we are watching?

The color of that sky, the coldness of the wind, the weight of the accumulating snow—did we really understand his "pain"? Or did we just consume them, feel moved, and separate ourselves by saying, "It was a good movie"?

This work shakes our very act of "#Seeing." Through whose eyes were we watching? Whose ethics were we using to read the story? Even if we didn't empathize with Fitzgerald's perspective, didn't we accept it as a "choice for survival"? Didn't we let Hawk's death pass by as a "necessary plot point"?

This story does not depict violence. It gently turns us, who have become accustomed to violence, inside out.

In psychology, there is a concept called '#deindividuation.' It refers to a state in which one's sense of self as an individual fades within a group or narrative, leading one to unconsciously participate in harm or stand by as a bystander. The act of 'watching' a movie is also prone to entering this circuit of deindividuation. However, Glass's gaze pierces through that unconsciousness.

Perhaps the moment he looked back at the end was not the end of the story, but the 'beginning of a question.'

“The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes.”
― Marcel Proust
“The true voyage of discovery is not about seeking new landscapes, but about having new eyes.”

Have we, before we knew it, escaped from our responsibility as 'observers'?

Glass might be you.
Fitzgerald might also be you.
And above all, the 'one who just watched without doing anything' might be us ourselves.


Podcaster Mako (@_macobana) brings the movie discussions that couldn't be fully covered on the main channel 'Pocket ni Numa' (#Pokenuma) to a dedicated channel in the podcast program '#Yomoyamakobanashi' (#Makobana), where she talks solo about various things.

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