The Last of the Mohicans
An arrow shot into the sun
A couple of years ago, a friend of mine (née Eric Lin) said to me, “You gotta come over and watch one of my favorite movies.” Many of my favorite movies are vicarious favorites not because of my individual experience with them but because of the shared experience of watching them with close ones. This Thanksgiving, I recommend eating a lot of delicious food and sharing some favorite movies with some loved ones.
The Last of the Mohicans (1992), one of Eric’s favorite movies, opens with a chase through dense, mist-laden forests, the camera moving as urgently as the characters. We’re immediately shown what it takes to survive in this day: bravery, wits, and speed. Directed by the one-and-only Michael Mann and based on James Fenimore Cooper’s novel, the film is a historical epic set in 1757 during the French and Indian War, as history buffs will know, the war that preceded the American Revolution. It’s a tale of loyalty, survival, and love in a time of conflict, with Daniel Day-Lewis leading as Hawkeye, a White adopted son of the Mohican tribe.
Hawkeye exists between worlds: raised by Chingachgook (Russell Means) and alongside his brother Uncas (Eric Schweig), he is fiercely loyal to his adopted Mohican family. At the same time, he navigates the landscape of colonial politics, where alliances shift quickly. The story begins when Hawkeye, Chingachgook, and Uncas rescue Cora Munro (Madeleine Stowe) and her sister Alice (Jodhi May) from an ambush led by Magua (Wes Studi), a Huron warrior with a personal vendetta against the girls’ father.
The Last of the Mohicans is a visual and auditory masterpiece. Mann, not known for period pieces, may be remembered most for this film, if not Heat (1995). The cinematography of Dante Spinotti captures the untamed wilderness in all its grandeur and danger, while Trevor Jones and Randy Edelman’s score, dated and perfect, elevates somehow works despite being purely anachronistic.
Day-Lewis, in a performance that helped cement his place as one of the greatest actors of his generation, embodies Hawkeye with physicality and intensity. His Hawkeye is not just a skilled frontiersman but a man of conviction, idealistically willing to do whatever is necessary to protect those he loves. Opposite him, Madeleine Stowe’s Cora is far from a damsel in distress. She’s intelligent, strong-willed, and capable, making her and Hawkeye’s relationship one of equals—a rare dynamic in historical romances.
Conversely, Wes Studi’s Magua is more than a one-dimensional antagonist. His hatred for Colonel Munro stems from personal tragedy (see: the Native American experience in colonial America), and Studi imbues him with a humanity that makes his actions, however brutal, tragically understandable. Magua isn’t just a foil for Hawkeye; he reflects the cost of war and the cycle of vengeance it perpetuates.
The Last of the Mohicans is a film that lingers long after it’s over. One sequence depicting an ambush, filmed simply in a field, shows many of the people about to be murdered watching blithely as their companions get picked off one by one: it’s a terrifying but believable depiction of guerilla warfare in colonial America. However, it’s not just the vistas or the battles; it’s the film’s meditations on love, loyalty, and loss. It’s the way Mann crafts a world where every character, from the leading players to the soldiers in the background, feels like they have a story to tell.
The film is a historic adventure, easy to watch because of its craftsmanship, but it’s also a reminder of the fragility of cultures and the devastating impact of colonialism. The eventual declaration that makes clear the film's title carries the weight of history: a recognition of what was lost and what can never be reclaimed. The moment grounds the movie’s sweeping romance and action in profound melancholy.
The Last of the Mohicans
Written by Michael Mann and Christopher Crowe; Directed by Michael Mann
1992
112 minutes
English
Recommended way to watch (at time of publication): Available to rent on all major streaming services.
You’ll like this if you like: Braveheart (1995), Dances with Wolves (1990), or Gladiator (2000)