Perhaps that's why I blocked out any recollection of the final camera shot after watching The Revenant in 2015. I thought the DiCaprio character (hunter and guide Hugh Glass) died at the conclusion of the movie.
It's only after watching the movie again on Netflix that I was corrected.
Indeed, this second viewing allowed me to better grasp what the film was all about (often the way with movies with complex and layered themes).
On first viewing, I enjoyed it well enough. It's visually stunning. And the violence is compelling, especially the extended sequence at the beginning of the film where fur traders are ambushed by Arikara Indians.
And the bear attack is terrifyingly realistic. Can't look, can't look away.
But the fact that DiCaprio's Hugh Glass character was impossible to kill, even when he rides a horse over a cliff, on first viewing, seemed to undermine the realism the movie was trying to convey.
With DiCaprio staring into my soul the second time around, I actually got it. His invincibility is linked to one of the film's themes, guilt.
Our guilt for whatever we've done wrong in life keeps stalking us. Guilt, like Hugh Glass, is a tough dude.
In The Revenant, trapper John Fitzgerald is guilty of the highest crimes. He kills Glass's half-Pawnee son, Hawk, and abandons a bear-ravaged Glass to die alone in the wilderness. He had previously promised (for money) to stay with the pair until Glass had died from his wounds and could be properly buried.
Fitzgerald has committed terrible sins, motivated by self-interest, from which he can't escape. The DiCaprio character is a metaphor for the guilt that won't die.
And when he looks directly at us in that final shot, there's a silent question being asked: "what are you guilty of?"
As well as dealing with the guilt side of the equation, The Revenant has something to say about those who are victims of crimes.
What is the price of being consumed by revenge? Does vengeance bring any satisfaction for being wronged?
Glass is set on revenge, until his refusal to land the killer blow against his son's murderer at the very end. This is left to a band of Arikara on a different quest for justice.
At the moment when vengeance is his, Glass recalls the words of another character encountered earlier in the film.
Hikuc, a Pawnee man travelling alone, has rejected vengeance. His family had been killed by Sioux. Rather than seeking revenge, however, he only wants to reconnect with his people. "Revenge," he says to Glass, "is in the Creator's hands."
As flawed as The Revenant in some ways is, it makes points about "guilt" and "revenge" that are challenging and worth reflecting on.
The director, Alejandro Iñárritu, is adamant that being motivated by revenge is no way to live. There can only be disappointment, unfulfillment and self-disgust.
What makes The Revenant a brutal watch, and a soul-searching one if you're paying attention, is that there's no hint at reconciliation or forgiveness.
Guilt and revenge stalk the main characters. Each individual has to come to terms with their past actions and motivations for future actions all on their own. It's a cold and icy world they inhabit.
