I've Got You

Kelly Reichardt’s film First Cow from A24, 2020 reviewed by college teacher Maurice Rodriguez

It’s like watching what a hug feels like. Do you remember those? In a world now fraught with proximity to others, this simple act of embracing another feels more essential than ever, and it’s not often that you watch an American frontier film or pick up one of those old dime novels and feel an emitting warmness. However, that’s the sensation Kelly Reichardt’s film First Cow (2020) produces—a much needed embrace and recognition of our shared condition—of being a human being.

First Cow is a deeply humanist exploration of the frontier set in Oregon Territory. We begin in the present day with a woman and her curious dog discovering a pair of human skeletons side by side in the dirt under a tree. It’s evident when the film transitions from a shot of the remains to a pair of hands foraging for mushrooms that we are now thrown into the past, set in 1820. These gentle hands belong to Otis “Cookie” Figowitz (John Magaro), a kind-hearted and soft-spoken cook employed by a team of raucous fur trappers. One night when Cookie is out foraging, he runs into a naked King-Lu (Orion Lee), a Chinese immigrant on the run for killing a Russian in self-defense. Cookie—like any decent person should when they come across a desperate, lost, and hungry person—clothes him, feeds him, and shelters him, unbeknownst to his sleeping crew.

After helping Lu escape, they run into each other several days later at a lodge located at a trading post and settlement where Lu invites him back to his makeshift home. We come to learn more about Lu, who represents the pursuit of the American dream as an immigrant and world traveler in search of abundance. Lu constantly shares his dreams with Cookie, often reflecting on the futility of them. There’s a moment when he’s attempting to process out loud about what it might take for poor men like them to achieve these dreams, pointing to capital and crimes as an answer, or leverage as Cookie suggests. This is a subtle dig at the notion of the American dream that we’ve all been conditioned to believe in—the men who have wealth in this film have always had wealth, and they certainly don’t look like Lu or have the experiences of poverty like Cookie.

As we follow their budding friendship in the heart of the woods, we’re finally introduced to the cow that was only hinted at once—being shipped to Oregon Territory for Chief Factor (Toby Jones), a wealthy Englishman and landowner with the only proper house on the settlement. Lu, and more reluctantly Cookie, devise a plan to steal the cow’s milk at night in order to make biscuits. After one successful, and warm encounter with a silent cow and a caring and gracious Cookie, they agree to make a business out of it at the market. Their donut-like “oily cakes” become a hit on the settlement, getting the attention of Chief Factor himself who can’t help but try one and eventually recruit Cookie to make a clafoutis for an upcoming meeting. Although this worries Cookie and Lu, they realize they need to keep stealing from Chief Factor if they want to achieve a new dream that they share together—to move to San Francisco and open a hotel.

Eventually, Cookie and Lu are caught in the act of stealing, forcing them to split up and run. Both are helped by Natives in their flight; Cookie is aided by a family after taking a steep fall, and Lu hires a man to take him downstream back to his makeshift home where the money they’ve saved is hidden in a tree. We’re reminded in these instances, as we are throughout the film in other scenarios and presence of Natives on the settlement as well, that this land isn’t untouched as it’s traditionally depicted in harsh and nationalistic Westerns. This American land was always and will always be Native soil.

When they’re reunited at their makeshift home, destroyed by Chief Factor’s men, they embrace each other with relief, recognizing that the other is alive. It’s what we always do when we hug one another, whether we’re conscious of it or not, it’s a recognition of the other’s existence. A subtle, but profound affirmation that we all need from time to time.

Without a place to stay now, they decide to take a gamble on their American dream. They head to San Francisco on foot, and unknown to them they’re being tracked along the way. With Cookie hobbled and likely concussed from his fall, they don’t make it very far and decide to rest as darkness falls in the same place we began this film. As Cookie lies asleep in the dirt and autumn colored leaves, Lu briefly clutches the bag of money and recognizes his American dream will remain just that—a dream. He props the bag up like a pillow next to Cookie’s head and lays beside his friend—a bond more essential and embedded in reality than a dream forged in a land of lies, violence, and greed.

In a year of despair, First Cow reminds us of an utterly simple way to find solace. As Lu closes his eyes and exhales, the final words of the film escape his tired lips: I’ve got you. When we hug each other, our bodies say the same.

Maurice Rodriguez is an emerging writer from Connecticut and teaches at Northeastern University. He holds an MA in English from the University of Connecticut and is an MFA candidate at The New School where he writes across genres. Follow him on Twitter @yosoymojo