'Bitterbrush': Picturesque Doc Gallops Along Two Cowgirls Facing Crossroads [Telluride Review]

Swaddled in the vastness of the mountainous American West, two young women command the terrain and their own destinies in Emelie Mahdavian’s picturesque documentary “Bitterbrush.” The sturdy duo at the helm, Hollyn Patterson and Colie Moline, are, despite their youthful age, veteran hired farmhands heading on a four-month commitment in a remote area to herd cattle.

Nearly nomadic in nature, their lifestyle, inherited partly from their upbringing in rural locales, entices them with its illusion of freedom. Mahdavian, through her director of photography Derek Howard, maximizes our visual understanding of how majestic the landscapes are and, in contrast, how humans and animals appear dwarfed in their grandeur. On horseback or by truck, Hollyn and Colie are at ease in this domain.

Distant from technology or modernity, save for the mention of social media, Mahdavian’s subjects resemble timeless frontierswomen, Calamity Janes forging their own future to the best of their abilities. For a while, the notion that this is only a temporary job stays in the back of our minds watching them content in their humble accommodation with their pack of huggable dogs. In their mutually complementing personalities, they’ve found the type of familiarity where sitting in silence with that other person is no longer uncomfortable.

Exposition comes mostly in organic chatter between the pair, though occasionally the two answer questions from the filmmaker off camera. Those moments of rare ennui, in front of a fire after a long day of physical exertion, show them at their most willing to share personal scars still in the process of healing. That’s especially true of Colie, still dealing with loss and disenfranchisement from her family. Hints of religious identity in her life surface as she speaks in self-coined proverbs and a shot of a faith-oriented book hiding in her bag.

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Mahdavian’s standard narrative construction uses the timeframe of their employment as an arc. Within that, two sequences stand out, for the attention the director pays to them are one in which Hollyn, the more extroverted of the two who has a romantic partner seen briefly in the film, tries to break in a new horse. Her determined yet cautious efforts and Colie’s encouragement from afar convey the genuine dangers of their positions.

The other follows them, riding through a snowstorm. And while both of them run for longer than feels necessary for their meaning to get across, they cement their rugged personas, capable of withstanding weather and exhaustion. Unremarkable instrumental piano music, which for the most pairs well with the pastoral footage, coats what feels like a large portion of the running time.

The lack of conflict in “Bitterbrush,” at least any that may come off as negatively life-altering, isn’t completely supplemented by its observational beauty. Hollyn is starting a family in a less than ideal financial situation and is preemptively reminiscing of these days that seem almost over. Meanwhile, Colie’s crossroads means finding the next gig or return home to a disgruntled father. Small battles with personal gravitas drive the undeniable meditative and often gorgeous “Bitterbrush” but don’t render it a compelling must-see.

Nevertheless, the doc finds brighter dabs of personality in their rapport, developed over five or six years (neither of them can remember exactly). Hollyn’s nonchalant humor and matter-of-factness dances with Colie’s concern for severe topics such as the crisis facing independent farmers, given that the system benefits larger corporations. By Mahdavian’s choice or perhaps because it naturally never arose during shooting, there are no contrived discussions bluntly addressing the role of their gender in this field of work. What the camera captured speaks alone of their unquestionable aptitude.

Meeting Hollyn and Colie at this particular period in their lives, before change arrives, feels like making acquaintances about whom you wish to learn more, but the exchange remains guarded. Only a few openhearted thoughts escape from under their well-worn hats. Growing against the grain of expectations, just as the tough vegetation gives the film’s title, the two boot-wearing, self-sufficient friends will regrow elsewhere in their next chapter.

Although easy comparisons to Chloé Zhao’s “The Rider” or even “Songs My Brothers Taught Me” might exist, simply because the Chinese-born Oscar-winner has made the American heartland and the people in it almost synonym with her oeuvre, Mahdavian’s nonfiction proposes something distinct: a subtle portrayal of non-sensational humanity. [B]

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