Dutch director Nanouk Leopold’s seventh feature opens with a literal bang—several, in fact. But it’s the final bang in the Whitetail’s prologue that reverberates with violent force throughout the remainder of the film. It signals a horrifying tragedy that Leopold’s protagonist, Jen (Natasha O’Keeffe), cannot heal from even years after the fact, when she grows up to become a forest ranger seeking to preserve the natural beauty of her southern Irish community. Flinty and emotionally remote, Jen guards her forest with unflinching resiliency, and becomes even more resolute when dead deer carcasses begin appearing and the threat of poachers becomes a dangerous possibility. But it’s another appearance—that of Owen (Aaron McCusker), her former boyfriend who bore witness to the tragedy that scars her—which begins to destabilize the world Jen has built for herself. Ghosts of the past begin to rise from the earth and whether Jen can resolve them before they overtake her completely becomes the central conflict of Whitetail’s story.
Whitetail is given strong anchor by O’Keeffe’s terrific performance, which is by turns richly internalized and sensitive in its portrayal of the lasting repercussions of PTSD. The film’s natural setting is also keenly lensed by Leopold and her cinematographer Frank van den Eeden. They imbue Ireland’s natural landscapes with a kind of spiritual essence that takes on its own distinct characterization, both serving as brutal reminder and soothing healer on Jen’s journey. At times, one can almost smell the earthiness of the land and the forest’s mist on your skin as you watch the film.
There are a few choices made that kept me at a remove, such as the decision to make the victim of the film’s central tragedy a nonentity. While we are told their name, their humanity is otherwise blanked, so it becomes difficult to be too emotionally involved in Jen’s suffering. I also felt the film almost struggling to shift out of first gear after its first act concluded. There is a sense the film is wallowing in a limited emotional register throughout its midsection which results in a fair degree of monotony until things do pick up again in the final half hour. I had hoped to see a bit more dynamism in the way Jen’s story unfolded, particularly in the subplot involving her father (Andrew Bennett), which doesn’t feel fully sketched out, despite its initial promise.
Whitetail is a film steeped in melancholy and almost as aloof as its main character, for better and for worse. Its rewards are not always the most satisfying, but its elemental beauties are difficult to ignore, as is Natasha O’Keeffe’s bracing performance.
Whitetail had its world premiere at TIFF in the Centrepiece programme on September 7, 2025.
The Lonely Film Critic 