A remote Siberian ordeal unfolds when a hunter confronts a pack of rabid wolves while the village teeters on the edge of fear.
In a distant corner of Siberia, a lone hunter stalks a bear, only to become the target of a rabies-infected wolf pack. Later, two men arrive in the same isolated village: a failed entrepreneur and his son. Years earlier, the father’s false claims and bankruptcy wrecked more than his business; it fractured their relationship, turning the son toward drug use. With remorse weighing heavy, the father drags his son deeper into the taiga to shield him from the world and from his addiction.
The situation shifts when rabid wolves assault the village. Bullets and axes prove useless against this wild menace, forcing the two men to improvise and survive with the aid of a local ranger and a policeman. Together, they retreat into the forest, narrowing the distance between themselves and the violent unknown outside. The ending arrives as a brutal test of endurance, and the question of who will outlast the other forces the audience to the edge of its seat until the final credits roll.
Rabies sits in conversation with iconic survival cinema. It evokes a mood similar to John Carpenter’s The Thing, transposed to a remote polar setting where a lone expedition station faces alien terrors. Here, the antagonists echo wolves rather than alien intruders, and the white expanse of Siberia stands in for Antarctica. The night, a constant companion, feels almost perpetual, yet the events unfold within a single day as the characters confront a prison built from fear and fatigue rather than endless snow.
There’s a playful nod to The Revenant in the sense that legendary confrontations with beasts spark dialogue among the characters, imagining what a meeting between two stars would reveal. The bear attack becomes a catalyst for deeper dread rather than a simple action beat, leaving an impression of tension that lingers beyond the moment of danger. Critics often note the film’s ability to mine classic genre energy while carving its own path through the brutal landscape.
As the story advances, Rabies becomes more than a survival tale. It probes human nature, not solely in response to external threats but in the way individuals wrestle with inner demons. The son’s withdrawal ordeal exposes fragility and desperation, while the father’s choices echo the consequences of past decisions. A local police officer’s willingness to take a bribe and the veteran entrepreneur’s scheme-tinted ethics further complicate the sense of accountability that unravels when danger intensifies.
The film makes clear that mutual responsibility crumbles when danger breaks into the home. Rabid wolves threaten to tear apart every plan, and cunning alone cannot guarantee safety. The sense that cooperation might save them feels undercut by doubt, and the tension widens in a way that remains understated, allowing the characters and the environment to do much of the storytelling. The harsh, cold atmosphere intensifies the drama, and the filmmakers push the limits of realism by placing the action in temperatures around minus forty degrees, a detail that reinforces the severity of the crisis.
Yet the performances carry the piece. Serebryakov and Tkachuk share a powerful dynamic, shifting the dynamics of their relationship while facing misfortune side by side. At times they play the same role from alternate vantage points, a reminder that family bonds can survive even when trust has been strained to the breaking point. Their on-screen presence lends gravity to the film, offering moments of quiet resilience amid escalating peril.
Despite a brave setup and strong performances, some viewers feel the movie strides too far in search of a grand conclusion. While the effort is commendable, the momentum sometimes stalls before reaching a climactic pivot worthy of Carpenter’s aura. The ambition remains evident, but the execution rarely reaches the peak of that influence.
In sum, Rabies presents a gripping, character-driven meditation on survival and morality under extreme stress. It asks whether people can pull together when the world narrows to the next breath, and whether fear can be as corrosive as any predator. The film leaves audiences with a lingering sense of unease, even as the performances and the stark, wintry setting register in memory. The tension is tactile, the stakes palpable, and the story continues to resonate with fans of survival cinema in a way that invites discussion and interpretation [Citation: Contemporary film criticism].