Written and Directed by Joe Dietsch and Louie Gibson
Starring: Michael Cudlitz, Annet Mahendru, Tim Heidecker, Milo Gibson, Lexy Kolker
Runtime: 90 minutes
On Demand November 11

by Billie Anderson, Staff Writer

I grew up in the prairies in Canada and spent every July until I was fifteen camping in the middle of nowhere with my family. I recognize that many people fantasize about moving into the woods and escaping the world, but that dream doesn’t make its way onto my list after what I experienced. Don’t get me wrong, I loved camping—my family had a trampoline and a hammock that we set up every year, there was a campsite was near a golf course, and we often drove into town to walk around the small shops they had (the Pharmasave and the Bargain Shop). But as I got older and began to have a presence online, continuing to spend a whole month away from my house, my belongings, my friends, and my streaming services started to get exhausting. 

Manifest West tells the story of the Hayes family leaving the city and their home in search of a better life following a psychotic episode. With her mother Alice (Annet Mahendru), her father Dave (Milo Gibson), and her sister Mary (Madison Friedman), the film follows ten-year-old Riley (Lexy Kolker) as she navigates family stress, peer pressure, and the untamed wilderness. The coming-of-age film from Joe Dietsch and Louie Gibson, known best for their 2017 horror film Happy Hunting, centers on a family that grows increasingly violent after moving off the grid, told from the perspective of a young girl watching her family fall apart through her very eyes. 

The directors clearly have an interest in what it’s like to live among gun-slinging, beer-drinking rednecks, as that is one of the main catalysts for both of their films. The film’s shining stars are not the main family but their neighbors, couples Eric (Michael Cudlitz) and Susie Lind (Dionne Audain) and Steve (Tim Heidecker) and Ruth Danik (AprilAnn Dais). Despite their little time on screen, these four actors encapsulated the demographic of small-town wilderness communities. Having spent a lot of time in the Canadian prairies, with most of my family fitting the stereotypes of these characters, it was thrilling to see these archetypes come to life on screen in a way that felt familiar. 

At its core, this film is telling two stories at the same time, with each narrative fighting for the center spot. One story is about a family escaping society due to the increased cost of living, high unemployment rates, and unaffordable housing markets. The other story is trying and failing to make a statement about how difficult it is to be disabled in a North American culture that is so tied to productivity and individual contribution to the economy. What this film says about a family in crisis is a lot more powerful than anything it says about mental health or capitalism.

This film says nothing new about bipolar disorder, and it does nothing new about disability representation in film. Mitchell and Snyder’s narrative prosthesis (2002) claims that disability is used as a metaphorical device in most films where it is present, to drive the narrative forward. Once that narrative concludes, however, the disability must be overcome for audiences to feel comfortable with the mere presence of disability on screen. There are two easy ways to do this: to kill the disabled character or cure the disability. There is no learning to live with a disability or integrating said disability into a community of acceptance. 

I don’t fault Manifest West for falling prey to narrative prosthesis—it’s a trope most films struggle to move beyond. Alice’s character and her disability exist for as long as the film needs her. She is the catalyst for the main narrative of moving to the wilderness. The audience then sees her spiral into a depressive episodeonly to be ignored for the remainder of the film until the very end where she reappears to offer a conclusion. The film feels as though it’s trying to take a darker spin on the unconventional family narratives that have been popular in the past: The Glass Castle (2017) tells a similar story with a more nuanced conclusion. Manifest West offers a dysfunctional family narrative where, like The Glass Castle, the children are the most heavily affected by the decisions of responsibility-averse and free-spirited but well-meaning parental figures. Where Manifest West doesn’t work as well is that it’s not a true story and thus tries to offer a conclusion that feels rushed and incomplete.

Manifest West reminds us of the depressing reality that escaping the horrors of modern society is nearly impossible. What it lacks in nuanced disability representation, it somewhat makes up for with an enticing supporting cast, breathtaking lighting, and beautiful on-location shooting. Where the film stands politically is unclear, as is how the audience is supposed to feel or relate to the film’s conclusion. This film’s slow build to life-threatening stakes is jarring and messy; without the care to illustrate the Hayes’ new home environment, the narrative in Manifest West falls flat.