Infinite Storm

This movie is slow. At 97 minutes, it feels like it runs much longer. It is also strangely claustrophobic for taking place primarily out in open mountain wilderness. While I enjoy the outdoors, I cannot stand the cold, especially in my vulnerable digits. So, it is difficult for me to grasp the appeal of hiking up a snowy peak while fighting gusts of frigid wind. The setting, for me, portrayed a personal Hell that invites one of the worst possible ways to die.

People can be stubborn. If someone needs to be saved, how far should someone else go to save that person, even if that person clearly does not want to be saved? When does saving someone else become more about an opportunity to save oneself? What outcome must result in order for all of the effort to be worthwhile? The creators of the movie likely want the audience to leave with some of these questions and more. Fortunately, they did not want to leave too many mysteries, so much of the intrigue is addressed directly and wrapped up neatly by the end. Another question that might come up, though, is, why bother with this movie? I suppose that, if this story is something that resonates with you for some good reason, then you will likely enjoy it. It does not resonate with me.

I may feel ambivalence toward this movie, but I have very strong feelings about what happened shortly afterwards. On my way home, I was pulling out of a parking lot on my bicycle when the driver of the car behind me began shouting at me to get out of the way, despite there being no break in cross traffic. I found the lack of both patience and competence of this motorist to be quite unsettling. He seemed genuinely baffled and enraged by the fact that I had come to a full stop holding up my left hand, the legal signal of my intent to make a right turn. He even shouted something about letting him go around me as he lurched his vehicle toward me, seemingly intent on running me off the road and cutting off the cars I was waiting to let pass. When I finally got a clearing and made my way into the street, then the left turn lane, he pulled up to my right, stuck his head out the window, and told me that I am an asshole. The irony was not lost on me, but I was not above returning some expletives as he tried to speed off, slowed by the crawling traffic in front of him.

The driver clearly felt that he was in the right and that I had no business using the road, since he had possession of a motor vehicle and I was merely riding a bicycle. That kind of ignorance, especially combined with that kind of volatility, is dangerous for anyone who has to share the road with such a person. I genuinely regret not taking the time to dismount from my bike and educate this unqualified driver on traffic law, particularly the points on pedestrian and bicycle rights and safety. I doubt it would have done anything to diffuse the situation, but at least I wouldn’t feel as though I just left a land mine to explode on someone else.