When the Ocean knocks, Redford Answers
You know all those movies and their star-studded casts? Well, you can keep ‘em, for now anyway. At the time of this writing, their services won’t be needed. Instead, let’s take a look at a film that features only one big-name actor. In fact, this single actor makes up the entire cast, and not in an Eddie Murphy Nutty Professor way either. There’s only one actor because there's only one character.
That means you won’t hear much dialogue. If we’re ballparking it, there are probably fewer than a hundred spoken words. Yeah, I’m too lazy to find out the actual amount. But if you need exactitude, I’m sure the Googler has got you covered.
While you’re at it, you can also ask how many different settings this particular movie takes place in. Actually, don’t bother. It’s one. The entire story unfolds on a lone vessel, a yacht (small, not even close to billionaire Bezos territory) stranded out in the Indian Ocean.
A film like this might simply turn some people off. It’s not exactly making a ton of headlines or getting huge TV promos. And yet, if you give it a chance, more likely than not it’s going to pull you in.
What more can be said about 2013’s All Is Lost? Not enough, if you ask me.
From the get-go, it drops you right into the conflict. There’s no slow buildup, no backstory, just a man and the problem he’s facing.
Imagine it: you’re sailing alone. You’re just trying to catch up on some zzz’s when you’re rattled awake by a disturbance in the force. In sailor jargon, that means the ship is taking on water. Turns out a rogue shipping container has slammed into the hull, opening the floodgates. That’s just the start of your day – the ocean's way of saying good morning. If you think that’s the worst of it, think again. Going forward, the troubles only keep piling up.
At the helm of the ship is one of our best, the late Robert Redford, who at this point in his career was no spring chicken. The Sundance Kid might have had a little more pep in his step, but he definitely didn’t have the nautical know-how to handle this new dilemma.
If there’s anyone who still has any reservations about Redford's acting chops, first off, shame on you. Secondly, tune into this one and watch how this man battles the ocean for an hour and forty-five minutes.
At no point does he need to turn to the camera to explain what he’s feeling or what he’s thinking. He’s also not playing seven-card stud. His expressions, his mannerisms, his obvious frustrations, they do all the real talking.
For those of you reading this, you might think I’m a little twisted for wanting to watch someone unravel like that on screen.
To that I say, aren’t we all a little sick? It’s not like the plot starts out with a small clown-faced dude on a tricycle asking me if “I want to play a game,” which has been done at least ten times by now.
Besides, it’s not about watching someone unravel. It’s about watching someone endure. It’s the unforgiving nature of the ocean, the way it throws obstacle after obstacle at Redford’s character, who to the audience remains nameless throughout, and still he keeps fighting back. It’s the kind of resolve to be admired, especially when you see the amount of toil the man has to go through just to let out an expletive in pure agony. Ultimately, that is what resonates, the honesty of it all.
All Is Lost doesn’t try to win you over with what seems to have become the norm. It trades in the long, drawn-out action sequences and witty banter to give us a more grounded experience. From the moment you hit play, it drops you into a world where survival is the only goal, a place where control can shift as fast as the ocean’s currents.
Hopefully none of us will ever have to withstand something that rough. But if that day did come, how far would you be willing to go when it looks like all is lost?
