Review: "The Crest" by Christopher Jones

A feature-length documentary depicting Captain Fantastic's 2021 PCT Thru

I just got back from the Premiere of Chris Jones’ (Captain Fantastic) film “The Crest” at the Roxie Theatre in SF. Here’s the blurb from the screening’s event page:

"The Crest" is a feature-length documentary depicting an attempt to thru-hike the Pacific Crest Trail in 2021. The film embodies the trials, beauty, hardships, freedom, fear, and -most importantly: the people encountered along the trail.”

2021 was a weird year to hike the trail. Apocalyptic fires, no snow on the passes, and a tragic fire that burned down Montezuma Valley Market. Those of hiking still made the most of it, as evidenced by Christopher’s film.

It was a really wonderful experience to be able to see someone’s dream come to fruition on the big screen. Too often, we see our friends’ victories through Instagram stories; on windows no larger than the size of our palms. An accomplishment as large as The Crest, as large as the trail, deserves much more.

It’s easy to forget the majesty of a landscape so vast it threatens to swallow you whole when you’re catching it in snippets. The last major piece of trail to hit the silver screen was Wild, and that documented a much different time in the PCT’s history. What Chris has accomplished here is to convey the trail in the flesh, as is so difficult to do in words and 10 second clips.

The movie opens with a short introduction to the idea of the trail and the context of the 2021 season in the midst of COVID. It quickly takes on a straightforward “A to B” narrative with minimal voiceover by Chris and bits of Q&A and interview mixed in to clarify things like gear, trail names, and trail magic for the uninitiated.

One thing Chris has done masterfully in this film is to spend the necessary time to develop emotional weight in the early miles. He gives us a window into his personal experience without wallowing in reflection: the footage we get of the trail has a universal, authentic quality to it. I found myself easily slipping back into my own memories of early days in the desert, injury and self doubt, and the friends who pulled me through. At one point he makes the bold decision of featuring a slow motion shot of a giant boil being popped, which got a audible rise out of the entire theatre. If watching your buddy pop a blister and being so curiously horrified you can’t look away isn’t a trail experience, I don’t know what is.

Through little moments like these, silly faces and songs his compatriots sing, snippets of exhaustion and satisfaction (so many mouth watering shots of cold beer), Chris brought the trail to life in a way Wild could have never dreamed of.

The film isn’t afraid of letting us know that Captain Fantastic isn’t the real focus of the film. The vignettes we see of McQueen, Kale, Lighthouse, and many others are introduced with a joy and thoughtfulness that let us know how touched the filmmaker is that these wonderful people chose to spend their days with him. It’s clear to see how cherished the memories we’re shown are.

So much creative work about the trail loves to play up the solitude, the loneliness, the desolation of being in the wilderness alone. There’s bits of The Crest that dip into these emotions, but only to provide us context for the true wealth to be discovered out there. There’s a deep, resounding love of people and humanity that permeates through every second of this film. It’s impossible to leave not feeling closer to these people you’ve never met than you do to a friend you haven’t spoken with in years. What’s more, one is left with a desire to rekindle those friendships, to stoke the flames of enthusiasm for human connection within yourself and those around you.

While we struggle through the Desert and into the Sierra with Chris, we get calming vistas, ruby sunsets, tranquil birdsong. The editing goes a long way in underpinning how nature’s stark beauty plays in concert with the warmth of companionship. This is something Wild sucked at. This is something A Walk in the Woods sucked at. This is a domain in which The Crest dominates. You can say “the trail is the people” as much as you want, but someone who hasn’t experienced a thru won’t understand until they see the sweat, the smiles, the exhaustion, the acceptance, the sheer joy we bring one another.

I really can’t overstate how great the editing in this film is. Chris uses but doesn’t over-use audio layering to make us feel overwhelmed by information about gear and the pandemic. We get micro-cuts of routine that wordlessly convey a rhythm of a day of hiking, all under a bigger narrative that mirrors the emotional journey of the trail itself. By the time we’re halfway into the Sierras, things start to speed up, and a tragic fact of life is on display: time flies when you’re having fun.

As the pace of the film quickens, Chris remains an honest narrator in describing his decisions to take breaks, or get off the trail for smoke reasons (as many of us did, heck I ferried people around the closure in a U-Haul). The moments of respite from trail are brief, maybe less than a minute of total runtime throughout the entire film. For the Oregon section which was skipped, we get a brilliant montage of other hiker’s videos that further cements the human heart and soul of The Crest.

Everyone has a reason for their Thru, and The Crest gives us Captain Fantastic’s without beating us over the head with it. I don’t want to spoil it here, because I think the way that Chris worked it into the film without putting a spotlight on it is clever, if not sneaky. Despite the Shyamalan-style lateness of the reveal, it carries emotional weight and gives the film a genuine cathartic payoff beyond of the completion of the trail at the northern terminus.

The only small criticism I have to offer would be a need for tighter cuts in the interviews with the owners of Montezuma Valley Market, which seem to exist in a weird vacuum that may leave the uninitiated feeling confused.

If The Crest leaves us with a moral, it’s that we should approach life without assumption or expectation. We should find joy in the tiny moments that light every day, and take solace in beads of silence that separate them.

It doesn’t seem like The Crest has a marketing page up yet, but maybe if enough people follow Chris on instagram he’ll get tired of all the attention and make one. Thank you Chris, for reminding me exactly why I went out there in the first place, and exactly why I came back. Even though you say in the conclusion of the film that you aren’t the real Captain Fantastic, you are. I know it, everyone in the audience tonight knows it, and I hope you do too. Never stop making art.

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