Heart of the Beast, by Albert W. Vogt III

With a title like Heart of the Beast, a Catholic reviewer might have some reservations. Perhaps I am making much out of nothing, but any time the word “beast” is mentioned, it carries connotations of the devil. Luckily, the story has nothing to do with the evil one. If it had, I probably would not have watched it. Still, it does have a character that usually gives me pause as a film reviewer in general: a dog. Please understand that I have nothing against canines. After all, St. Francis of Assisi showed us that animals are also God’s creations. It is in this vein that I usually have reservations about these movies because the pooch in question often does not survive. Nobody likes to see that happen. I will not be spoiling what happens right now, but just know that this can go one of two ways.

The first reassurance arrives almost immediately in Heart of the Beast. A young woman (Anna Lambe) driving along an isolated Alaskan road encounters a battered German shepherd standing alone in her path. Before we learn how he got there, the story jumps back one week and introduces retired Army Special Forces Command Sergeant Major James Belmont (Brad Pitt) and that same dog, Odin (Uber). The two are veterans in every sense. Odin served as James’ combat scouting dog, losing part of a leg and suffering severe injuries to his jaw during their service together. The dog now wears a prosthetic limb and has titanium teeth. James carries less visible wounds from war, and both man and dog suffer from traumatic memories. Their bond is obvious in the way they comfort one another when those memories intrude. Seeking peace rather than another mission, James flies his seaplane deep into the Alaskan wilderness with Odin for a camping and fishing trip. For a while, they get exactly what they desire. James fishes, watches birds, drinks beer, reads, and enjoys the silence with the companion who seems to understand him better than most people could. It is the kind of setting any Catholic hermit would appreciate. Their solitude is briefly interrupted by a grizzled traveler (J.K. Simmons), who camps nearby for the night. Over a beer, James reveals enough of his history for the stranger, and us, to understand why Odin means so much to him. The next morning, the visitor leaves by canoe, taking a beer and leaving James a book in exchange. A storm approaches soon afterward, prompting James to pack their camp and fly home. The weather, however, is not what brings down the plane. James suffers a heart attack in the cockpit and loses control, crashing into a lake. Odin is thrown clear while James nearly drowns inside the sinking aircraft. He escapes and desperately searches for the dog, eventually finding Odin badly injured and seemingly unresponsive. James tends to him through the night, and Odin survives. James then dives into the wreckage to recover whatever supplies he can, including food, survival equipment, and aspirin for his failing heart. Consulting his map and compass, he calculates that the nearest road is roughly fifty-eight miles away. Waiting for rescue is not much of a plan, so the two wounded veterans begin walking. Their trek quickly becomes an escalating series of disasters. A grizzly bear threatens them, but Odin stands his ground and helps drive it away. They struggle through swamps, steep terrain, cold, hunger, and exhaustion while James continues experiencing cardiac trouble. In the course of their travels, they are forced to divert around a valley by a pack of wolves, leading to a ravine with a rushing river below. Using a fallen tree spanning the gap, James attempts a precarious crossing and falls into the water. The current batters him against rocks and leaves him with a badly broken arm. Odin remains with him as James painfully sets and splints the injury, making the dog considerably more useful than most human traveling companions would be under similar circumstances. Flashbacks reveal more of their shared combat history, including the violence that injured Odin and killed members of James’ unit. James’ determination to protect the dog is therefore more than ordinary affection for a pet. Odin is a fellow survivor and, in many ways, the last member of his old team. The wilderness keeps testing that loyalty. Eventually, that same pack of wolves attacks, leaving both James and Odin bloodied. James fights them off, but the encounter wounds him beyond what his damaged heart can handle. Then, there is a swamp they must struggle through that was supposed to be a valley according to James’ map. As they approach the final portion of their journey, James’ physical condition deteriorates further. He continues because getting Odin to safety has become more important than saving himself. Recognizing that he may not reach civilization, he writes a letter for whoever might eventually find Odin. In it, he explains the dog’s history, asks that Odin be cared for, and expresses his hope that they will meet again in the next life. He also asks that his own body be left at peace in the wilderness with his fallen brothers. Eventually, the story catches up with its opening image. Odin reaches the road alone, where the young woman stops her vehicle and approaches him. She discovers James’ letter attached to the dog and reads his instructions while James’ words are heard in voiceover.

What James’ voiceover at the end of Heart of the Beast indicates is that he has spent what remained of his strength ensuring that Odin could make it out of the wilderness. The film closes by honoring the bond between military working dogs and the people who serve beside them, noting that such animals have saved thousands of lives and that many eventually find homes with loving families. Indeed, dog and man exhibit a desire to protect life that is pretty close to Catholic teaching. Thus, the answer to the question hanging over any movie about a beloved dog is mercifully clear: Odin makes it. The price of that survival, however, gives the title considerably more meaning than the devilish interpretation that might first occur to a Catholic reviewer. In this way, the film is more about the fight to stay alive than purely the relationship between dog and man. Such stories do offer challenges from a Catholic perspective. When it comes to life-or-death situations, one principle that comes to mind is the Church’s teaching on legitimate defense. In short, the Catechism recognizes a person’s right, and sometimes grave duty, to use proportionate force to defend his own life or the lives of others against an unjust aggressor. James’ battles with wild animals are obviously not questions of moral guilt on the animals’ part, but his use of necessary force to protect himself and Odin presents little moral difficulty. At the same time that they are fighting for survival, we see them amidst the beauty of God’s creation. The movie underscores their talents for remaining among the living, but eventually nature wins. Hence, rather than focusing only on this aspect, this Catholic sees a larger theme in the eternity that is God’s heavenly masterpiece. The clincher in this regard is James being carried into the afterlife while watching the Northern Lights.

The glow of the Northern Lights toward the end of Heart of the Beast is a poignant moment. Odin remains with James until the end despite the dog’s orders and stays there for some time after his owner’s passing. Before leaving, Odin lets out a howl that had more than a few people in the theater sniffling through tears. While I loved the reaction of the audience and was moved by the scene in question, what I do not want to do is think about Odin as being basically human. It is true that God made animals capable of sensation and forms of emotion. Human beings, however, possess a unique dignity because we are made in the image and likeness of God and endowed with spiritual souls, intellect, and free will. Again, I am not trying to denigrate Odin, but he is still a dog, albeit a remarkable one with extraordinary talents. I also have no doubt that such an animal could suffer lasting psychological effects from traumatic experiences, as James indicates on the piece of paper read by the woman who finds Odin. After all, what are the dog’s combat experiences but a kind of training, however brutal? At the same time, Odin is perfectly comfortable climbing into the woman’s truck at the end and going away with her. It is in this respect that our pets should be envied. While Odin will forever be altered by war, he apparently has a greater capacity to carry on living than some people do. There is even a distant parallel here to how the Church asks us to live after Confession. Once absolved, we should learn from our sins and make amends where necessary, but we are not supposed to remain imprisoned by guilt over sins God has forgiven. Most importantly, we continue moving toward Him. Our pets, of course, have no capacity for religious faith or sacramental life. It is good that they can nevertheless show loyalty to those who treat them well, while we can thank and worship the God who created them.

As difficult a watch as Heart of the Beast can be, it is good that Odin survives and finds someone we are meant to believe will treat him well. The Church does not definitively tell us what happens to individual animals after death, but She does teach that animals are God’s creatures and that human beings owe them kindness. Odin is certainly deserving of that care. This is something underscored in the film, and it makes it a solid watch.

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