A quick glance at the overall premise of Society of the Snow (Spanish: La sociedad de la nieve) may mislead you into thinking that this is a very conventional story of survival. However, as we have come to learn, J.A. Bayona does not make conventional films, so when he sought to tackle the story of the 1972 Uruguayan Air Force Flight 571 crash, in which sixteen people were left stranded in the Andean mountain range for months after a catastrophic occurrence that killed more than half the people on board, we could immediately tell that it was going to be something quite different from what we initially may have expected from the material. Their story is dramatised in the book of the same title by journalist Pablo Vierci, which Bayona works to adapt alongside screenwriters Bernat Vilaplana, Jaime Marques and Nicolás Casariego (who were tasked with transforming Vierci’s book, which is a very concise, matter-of-fact account of the events, into something profoundly poetic), crafting a fascinating film that is primarily a character study that plunges us into the lives of these individuals as they attempt to overcome the seemingly insurmountable challenges that come with being stranded in some of the most hostile terrain known to humanity. A harsh and complex film that is as terrifying as it is motivating, Society of the Snow is oddly quite surprising, since it seemingly promises to be quite a simple work of high-concept storytelling that tells a thrilling story but proves to be something far more unpredictable, taking this notable event and exploring the circumstances, which are carefully and methodically unpacked as we venture into the minds of the survivors who had to endure some of the most gruelling, horrifying conditions in their efforts to make it out alive, which proves to be a much more difficult endeavour than anyone could have comprehended, forming the foundation of this disquieting, but also oddly motivating, work that examines the process of attempting to survive, and the realization that life is fickle and deeply unpredictable at the best of times.

The 1972 Andes flight disaster is one of the most infamous plane crashes in the history of aviation, and every viewer is likely somewhat aware of some of the information, even if it usually the most grisly details that have pervaded the popular culture (such as the fact that the victims that weren’t immediately killed upon impact had to resort to cannibalism after some time to have even the slightest chance at surviving since their resources quickly diminished), rather than the individual stories or technical information that usually prove to be more factually correct. Bayona has had some experience with making films about catastrophic disasters, with The Impossible being his first foray into this kind of story, looking at the immediate aftermath of the 2004 Indian Ocean earthquake and tsunami. Despite some similarities in the kind of story being told, Society of the Snow is an almost entirely different matter altogether since while the scale of destruction was not even closer, this was a disaster that lasted much longer in terms of time – whereas The Impossible was about physical destruction, this film is about the erosion of one’s psychological state, and how quickly we can lose hope once it becomes clear that salvation is nearly impossible. This is a film about desperation and how it can force us to resort to extraordinary measures that call into question our morality – the aforementioned matter of cannibalism, which is usually treated as a horrific immoral act in the anecdotal discussions on this event, is shown with a degree of sensitivity, which is not something that any of us thought could be possible. Bayona is a very compassionate filmmaker, and he actively avoided portraying these people as barbaric but still made sure to emphasize how, in a time of crisis, our animalistic instincts take over, not in the sense that we condone or promote chaos or destruction, but that social decorum and morality immediately disappears, and all we are left with is the urge to survive by any means. It’s a fascinating document of the months these people spent waiting for someone to save them, showing how their dynamic eventually changes, and how their efforts, whether big or small, contributed to their eventual survival.

We could very easily dismiss Society of the Snow as yet another well-made but otherwise uneventful biographical drama about survival, especially since it has become something of a genre within itself – it may not be as excessively entertaining as the disaster films of the 1970s, which were often far more thrilling in an almost artificial way, but they do offer something of a spectacle to viewers, which can be soulless without the right approach. For Bayona, the process was not only about looking at the events and how these people survived but also the psychological and emotional toll such an incident can have on those who are left behind. A film like this is only going to be successful if there is a concerted effort put into telling the story, which is mainly about investigating the details of the crash and its aftermath, but also where the tone becomes incredibly important. Without the right atmosphere, we would not be able to fully comprehend the scope of the horrors endured by these people – even simply watching it from the comfort of our homes means that we can only marginally understand what they went through, with the scale of the fear and existential angst that those who made it back have actively discussed as being a shared experience amongst them is nearly impossible to entirely understand, but it doesn’t prevent Bayona from putting in the effort to create a film that comes as close as it can to recreating this catastrophe. The minimal use of special effects is notable – outside of the plane crash that occurs within the first few minutes, the film is very selective with how it uses effects, restricting them to some of the landscapes, and most prominently the makeup used to show the slowly changing bodies of these people as they endure the hostile terrain, which is in itself quite disturbing since we notice how they become increasingly malnourished and how the freezing temperatures cause their bodies to become almost unrecognizable. Bayona has a tremendous ability to bring such stories to life, and as perhaps his most ambitious production to date, he makes a good case for himself as someone who can handle such intimidating topics with elegance and genuine compassion, something often missing from films that look at catastrophic events in history.

One of the more peculiar elements of Society of the Snow is that it is not necessarily a character-based film, both because there were over a dozen survivors of the crash, and therefore the same number of perspectives needed to be assessed, meaning that it could not be a straightforward character study. However, it also needed to take the individuals into account, since it is their efforts to survive that form the foundation of the film – the disaster itself takes up only about ten minutes of the 145-minute running time, with the rest of it being solid character-based work. Bayona makes the smart decision to deliberately not populate the film with well-known actors, since not only would this be distracting, but it is unlikely that any of them could have delivered performances as raw and earnest as those of the main newcomers that make up the ensemble of the film, as they were all cast with the knowledge that they would have to face quite a few challenges when bringing their performances to life. As a result, not only is there a distinctive lack of a singular perspective that dominates over all others (the character of Numa Turcatti, played by Enzo Vogrincic, is perhaps the closest the film has to a de facto lead, but it is clear that he was just one of the many unfortunate souls that lost their lives as a result of this disaster), but it becomes a collective effort in bringing this story to life, and paying tribute to both the people that perished and the lucky few that managed to survive against all odds. The ensemble is fantastic, and Bayona’s insistence on casting actors exclusively from Uruguay and Argentina (which were the main nationalities of the passengers aboard the doomed aircraft) brings a level of further authenticity to the narrative, which benefits wholeheartedly from the efforts of the entire ensemble to tell this harrowing but powerful story of human resilience and how the bravery of these people and the challenges they endured.

Society of the Snow is a challenging and uncompromising film, and it should be said that it can be an ordeal for those who are not used to unfurnished, harrowing depictions of human suffering. There are some genuinely disturbing moments scattered throughout this film, and Bayona makes it very clear that is going to take an unflinching, honest approach to exploring these events, which leads to some very uncomfortable moments. However, this is only to give viewers the smallest fraction of a taste of what life would have been like for these people over the months that they spent stranded in the snow-covered mountains, which many of them started to believe would eventually become the site of their grave, especially since their inherent hope began to erode with every day, salvation seeming like less of an inevitability and more like a fantasy. Choosing to focus on the experiences of the survivors, rather than alternating with the efforts of the people who were trying to locate the crash and rescue anyone who remained alive (which was happening concurrently, as the climax suggests) gives the film a sense of complexity and emphasizes the anxiety that lingers over the film – much like the characters, the audience is trapped in these mountains, and we start to feel the discomfort and despair as we watch these people lose their grip on reality and begin to question everything, from their faith in God to their overall sanity. It’s a complex film with bold ideas and a genuine sense of artistry behind it, and it proves to be one of the more effective examinations of history we’ve gotten in the past year, with the genuine skillfulness embedded right at the heart of the film, coupled with the earnest compassion with which he tells the story making Bayona the perfect filmmaker to helm this story, showing respect to the resilience of those who survived, and paying sufficient tribute to the ones who didn’t make it but certainly fought as hard as they could to make it through this unprecedented catastrophe.