A Canadian thriller that encircles a blood stained character study
A Safe Distance opens with a visceral bang, then glimpses of the aftermath. A body dragged through wet forest undergrowth, the camera positioned low enough to make the viewer feel uncomfortably close to the action. Two women wash themselves of blood in a river as a gray sky hangs low over dense woods and distant mountains. From the outset, the film establishes an atmosphere of quiet menace rooted in its Pacific Northwest setting. The landscape, verdant forests, misty air, and looming mountains, recalls the uncanny tone of Twin Peaks, while the cinematography repeatedly places the audience inside the environment rather than observing it from a distance. Branches and vegetation frame the characters throughout the film, giving the sense that we are glimpsing something hidden within the wilderness and the people in it.
The story itself tees up that fateful opening, beginning with Alex (Bethany Brown) arriving in the woods on an anniversary trip with her longtime boyfriend Joey (Chris McNally). An awkward proposal quickly exposes the fragility of their eight-year relationship, setting the stage for Alex’s abandonment. Disorientated and lost, while seeking her way out of the forest, she encounters Kianna (Tandia Mercedes) and Matt (Cody Kearsley), a pair of nomadic outsiders, casting off the expectations of society and living deep in the forest. Their self-sufficient lifestyle and rejection of convention immediately appeals to Alex, a mid-career professional with a middling relationship who is becoming increasingly aware of the constraints of the life she has built. What soon becomes evident is that this pair don’t just live outside societal norms but also the bounds of the law, which adds a layer of dangerous allure to the situation.
What makes A Safe Distance compelling is not the more evident thriller aspects, but rather the psychological space it explores. The script from Aidan West deftly poses Alex’s time with the pair as an accelerated journey of self-examination. This couple embodies a philosophy of liberation that challenges Alex’s previous assumptions about stability, work, and commitment. A framework that has cataclysmically failed, given recent events. Around campfires and beneath towering trees, conversations drift toward questions of freedom, as this liberated pair open her to how she might life her life beyond the shackles of society.
Director Gloria Mercer works these contemplations into an experience that gives these characters space to breathe, but also escalates a growing sense of unease. The film’s audiovisual design reinforces this tension. Its score, a restless combination of delicate tones and discordant strings, creates a growing sense that something is out of balance. At times, however, A Safe Distance struggles to maintain its thematic focus. A subplot involving criminal activity attempts to raise the stakes but ultimately distracts from the more interesting story unfolding within Alex herself. The film is far more effective when it concentrates on her shifting sense of identity, how easily dissatisfaction with ordinary life can open the door to riskier, more uncertain alternatives.
Even so, the narrative sustains a quiet sense of inevitability. The deeper Alex moves into this world, the more the film hints that the freedom she seeks may come with consequences she has not fully considered. By the time events force her to confront the life she left behind, the wilderness no longer feels purely liberating; it has become a mirror reflecting both her desires and their potential cost.
In the end, A Safe Distance works best as a cautionary tale about tilting into the wilderness. A moody character study over a pure thriller, where the most memorable moments come not from action but from atmosphere and introspection. The film suggests that escape, from relationships, expectations, or society itself, can be intoxicating, but that the line between liberation and danger is often far thinner than it first appears.
