We’ve all been in this situation – seated around a table at a dinner party, or in front of a blazing fire, where someone asks one question: what is the scariest animal? Some will mention vicious beasts like lions or sharks, others will try to be smart and say that the hippopotamus is unexpectedly dangerous, and someone will certainly use it as an opportunity to reaffirm their fear of smaller creatures like spiders or snakes. However, someone will nonetheless give the most obvious answer, which is that no animal is more dangerous than humans, which is not just an attempt to be a smart aleck, but a very relevant point. We have done irrevocable harm to this world on an environmental level, and we also tend to be the most violent, vengeful and frankly most evil species, and the sooner we realise that nothing has done more damage to our beautiful planet than our actions, the faster we can actually begin to try and remedy the harm. Yet, we still treat the world as if it is eternally our own, not realising the negative impact every moment has on our surroundings. This is a subject that we find becoming very central to Apex, the most recent film by Baltasar Kormákur, who works with screenwriter Jeremy Robbins, to tell the story of Sasha, an adventurer who has a sincere love for the outdoors, and who has unfortunately lost her husband recently after a climbing accident in Norway. In an effort to overcome this grief, she travels to the Australian Outback, where she intends to spend some time exploring the wilderness in one of the most hostile but beautiful places on the planet. Unfortunately, she soon encounters Ben, a hunter who seems friendly at first, but proves to be sadistic, treating Sasha like his prey. Trapped in dangerous surroundings, Sasha has no choice but to try and outsmart a man who positions himself as the apex predator, not realising just how far he is willing to go to get the satisfaction of hunting her down. A film that is certainly very conventional, and most definitely not without its flaws, Apex is nonetheless quite entertaining, even if it can veer towards the shallow more often than not.

Over time, we’ve seen countless examples of works built around two or more people who find themselves in direct conflict, particularly when it takes the form of one pursuing the other. The hunter vs. hunted trope has been done so frequently that it has almost become a genre unto itself, despite many people genuinely trying to do something new with the premise. The inspiration behind Apex is not always very clear, and it’s entirely possible that Robbins and Kormákur were simply driven by the idea of positioning two characters against one another in such a way that the story begins to reflect deeper conversations around predators and their prey. The structure is extremely simple and doesn’t waste any time getting to the point once we reach the central event that kickstarts the narrative (which comes after a lengthy prologue in which we see the protagonist suffer an enormous loss, while also introducing key themes surrounding her love for the wilderness and her deep desire to explore the world around her, something that will come back to her in unexpected ways), which is where the film is at its most effective. The story at the heart of Apex revolves around a woman who simply wants to return to the wilderness, which she considers to be her home – nowhere in the developed, urban landscapes that she is forced to spend time in reflects her desire to be one with nature. This is a decision that ultimately impacts her, since she runs afoul of the one person who also adores the natural world, but rather than appreciating the grandeur and beauty, he is drawn to the violence and dangers, deciding to become one himself. It has some fascinating potential, and we can’t discount some of the thematic elements that drive the film (there is even some commentary about gender dynamics, with a potential reading into the fact that the film is ultimately about a dangerous man pursuing a woman for no other reason than because he thinks it is his God-given right to assert his dominance, which is a very timely topic and one we can only hope was intentional), which makes Apex an unexpectedly solid film at the best of times.

Apex is constructed as a two-hander between a pair of leads, and therefore casting was integral, or else the film would have fallen apart at the seams. The director has made films across the world and worked with diverse casts, so there was no doubt he would find the right people to lead this film. Charlize Theron (who was also involved as a producer) has quietly carved a niche for herself as an action star, which has resulted in some terrific films over the years. She’s capable of both incredible dramatic acting and extreme physicality, being more than willing to push herself to the limit with both, a skill that is well-utilised in this film, which requires so much from her as an actor. There’s a quiet complexity behind this film that we can appreciate, a kind of subtle humanity that sharply contrasts the intense action that surrounds the story, and Theron can be extremely convincing throughout. It’s not necessarily her best work, nor even her greatest performance in the genre (the former is Monster and the latter is Mad Max: Fury Road, with which no one can realistically argue), but it’s solid, reliable work that reminds us of why Theron is such a captivating screen presence. However, in a film built on duality, she can only be as good as her co-star, so she’s very lucky to have gotten Taron Egerton on board, particularly because he’s steadily been working to define himself as not only a reliable action star but someone who can also do very strong character work. He doesn’t play villains often, but he certainly makes a meal out of it when given the opportunity, and in playing the sadistic and bloodthirsty Ben, he brings something very unique to the film, a kind of disquieting terror that is clearly built on a quiet vulnerability. The chemistry between the two leads is spellbinding, since while it is a cat-and-mouse game in which they are engaged, they form deep connections that we can appreciate much more than we may have expected, their performances contrasting each other splendidly, and giving Apex an additional layer of complexity that would otherwise have been missing in most other contexts.

However, as valuable as the themes of the film may be, or the extent to which we find the two central performances effective, the reality is that no one comes to a Kormákur with the intention of being intellectually stimulated or provoked (although films like Touch do indicate that he is capable of more small-scale, intimate filmmaking), since his area of expertise has always been in these larger, more intense films that position people against the elements, finding them in hostile terrain where they are forced to battle dangers that are far greater than them. It’s a very simple concept, but one that finds its impact in the execution rather than the ideas that surround it, which is certainly where the director is at his best. The film is well-directed, enough to overcome some of its more cliched narrative elements, and it is a technical spectacle in every possible way. For the scenes in the prologue, set on Trolltunga in Norway (one of the most beautiful and borderline mystical places on Earth) and across Southeastern Australia, Kormákur makes the most of the locations to the point where these places become characters in their own right. We have seen films set in this region, many of them underlining how treacherous and dangerous this part of the world is (Long Weekend, maybe the most effective natural horror film ever made, was famously set there), but even taking that into account, it has rarely seemed more terrifying than in this film, where every turn brings with it new, unexpected dangers. The director pays attention to every intricate detail, constructing a film that captures the terror and despair, while also being a technical marvel, which is a very effective way of examining this subject and everything that it ultimately represents.

Apex is an extraordinarily conventional film, down to the smallest detail, and those seeking something unique or provocative beyond the conventional structure of the film will likely be disappointed, since this was never a priority for anyone involved. What the director and his cohorts were hoping to achieve wasn’t some revolutionary, daring work of audacious, boundary-pushing commentary, but rather an action-packed survival thriller about two people engaging in a game of life or death, doing whatever they can to survive, even if it means experimenting with a very unorthodox dynamic. It succeeds for the most part – it doesn’t do anything we haven’t seen before, but it still does everything it needed to do to be effective. It has moments of ingenuity scattered throughout, and Kormákur does once again prove that he’s one of the most essential voices in contemporary action filmmaking, since he makes it all seem so incredibly seamless, which all eventually coalesces around a film that doesn’t reinvent the genre, nor does it do anything particularly unique, but rather achieves a kind of excitement that is increasingly rare. It has no aspirations beyond the bare minimum, and while it does manage to evoke some conversations around the deeper messages embedded in the film, it is a primarily simple, straightforward survival thriller anchored by two terrific performances, set in a stunning part of the world, and driven by a sense of quiet chaos that is nothing if not truly enthralling. It’s a terrific work, and worth every moment of our time, especially when it comes to a genre that has grown hopelessly derivative, this film proving that you can be conventional and exciting in equal measure.