There are three qualities survival thrillers usually have in common.

One: contact with the outside world must be impossible. Civilization is hundreds of miles away. There’s no cell reception, and no fellow humans walk the land– unless they’re the malicious kind.

Two: the natural elements must be overbearingly harsh. Savage beasts roam the woods. Wind, rain, heat, or snow pummel the protagonist into a semi-lifeless state. And three: the survivor has to be crafty and clever – really clever – to make it out alive.

Hair of the Bear scrambles to meet this criterion, but fails by smashing together iffy plot points with poor, tenseless pacing. The thriller is directed by Alexandre Trudeau (Justin’s brother) and his military friend, James McLellan. This is the former’s first narrative film, and the latter’s first time working in the film industry. Their lack of experience shines through in ordinary cinematography and washed-out colour grading.

It follows 16-year-old Tori (Malia Baker), a teen who struggles with intense inner turmoil and has the self-inflicted scars to prove it. Her mother (Catherine Bérubé), tired and overworked, sends the girl off to her rugged grandfather’s (Roy Dupuis) cabin deep in Eastern Manitoba’s wilderness. At first, the pair bonds by living off the land and connecting with nature. Their quality time together is cut short when they meet a pair of ill-intentioned travellers.

Though civilization is far, a fundamental plot device is an iPhone with a miraculously strong internet connection. There are no menacing animals, and the natural elements are only mildly aggressive. Worse yet, the protagonist is a suburban kid who makes foolish decisions left and right, despite Hair of the Bear going for something like The Grey, not Deliverance.

In fact, Tori’s personal strife, at first, feels like the focal point of the narrative. Sympathy builds as the audience watches her grapple with self-doubt; appreciation towards Grandpa Ben grows with every attempt he makes at getting the young girl out of her funk. At first, the film seems like a drama about overcoming difficult emotions and finding peace. Once danger arrives, though, it’s clear that’s not the case. Tori’s personal problems become trivial in the face of live-or-die danger.

In one scene, Ben is critically injured; blood gushes from a stomach wound. In a painful groan, he tells Tori to grab a nearby rifle. Fear and panic overtake the teenager’s rationale. In her chaotic and emotional state, she cries out that she just can’t do it. Her grandfather, writhing in pain, replies: “Listen to me. When it starts, turn off your feelings, and you just survive.” Baker and Dupuis do a superb job in their roles. The duo’s strong familial chemistry lets them deliver this harsh message with love and gentleness.

Still, this genuine sentiment isn’t illustrated as well as it should be, and there’s a clear reason for that. Trudeau has been known for his political journalism and documentary work. Documentaries rely on real stories to illustrate key concepts, and the theme or message is obvious from the get-go.

Worst of all, though, the movie doesn’t turn into a survival thriller until a whopping forty-five minutes into its hour-and-a-half runtime. When the film does take that turn, it never musters up the hopeless, karmically unjust odds the genre requires. Consequently, Hair of the Bear doesn’t garner enough empathy with the audience to root for its hero.

Though the film’s visual qualities are nothing special, the themes they’ve come up with are good—even great. Trudeau and McLellan made Hair of the Bear to share a pertinent message that they found true in their own lives, particularly during their time together in the Canadian Air Force. During an interview with The Canadian Press, Trudeau said: “…the message behind anxiety is you’ve got to fight for your life.” It’s an admirable message, one that is very clear here.

But it’s also clear that Trudeau struggled to work within the narrative filmmaking medium to portray his very real-world theme. It’s why the movie fundamentally fails. The poorly done plot muffles all the philosophical bits within the narrative.  From the inciting incident onward, there are moments that are confusing or lack any sense at all.

When Tori and her grandfather save a man and his hypothermic brother, there’s no clear reason why the rescued pair becomes villainous, which feels like a disservice to the audience. It doesn’t help that Robert Naylor and Jonathan Lawrence are poor in their roles as cartoonishly evil brothers. Their lines are overly cheesy, and they feel like the type who would sit in fancy-looking spinning chairs with fluffy white cats on their laps.

If it isn’t plot holes, it’s the problems Tori and her grandfather face, which are only damnable because of their own doing. At nearly every point of decision-making, the choices they make are shlocky-horror-movie-level dense.

Overall, Hair of the Bear’s theme is worth hearing, but the movie’s lack of aesthetic charm and the half-haphazardly crafted plot make it hard to listen to.

Hair of the Bear opened in a limited release on March 6, 2026.