Timely, lyrical wildfire drama Rebuilding faces devastation together

The vast, rugged beauty of Colorado’s San Luis Valley serves as the striking backdrop of Rebuilding, the second feature from Telluride native Max Walker-Silverman. Although the film focuses on residents whose homes have been lost to devastating wildfires, the landscape itself is never presented as barren or beyond reclamation; indeed, those who have been displaced still possess an unwavering loyalty to terrain that has grown increasingly unforgiving. Even amid singed acres of evergreens and ashen farmland, the breathtaking vista of mountain ranges set against pastel skies elicit as much emotional impact as the charmingly naturalistic storyline and the well-crafted characters at its center.

Josh O’Connor plays Dusty, a rancher born and raised in the area whose livelihood is severely threatened after his entire property burns to the ground. After a few months of couch-surfing and sleeping in his truck, Dusty reluctantly moves into a trailer provided by FEMA for locals who’ve lost their homes. While the accommodations are dingy and in urgent need of repairs, those living in the camp are earnest people with big hearts. Dusty fosters a particularly close friendship with Mali (a great Kali Reis)—a single mother mourning the recent death of her husband alongside her daughter, Lucy—who organizes nightly cookouts for everyone. The importance of community for survival is a dominant theme in Rebuilding, and the bonds explored in the film feel authentically human as opposed to cloyingly optimistic.  

Only by losing everything does Dusty reckon with what he has errantly abandoned. This manifests in a sporadic visit to his ex, Ruby (Meghann Fahy), with whom he has a young daughter, Callie Rose (Lily LaTorre), the product of the couple’s many years as childhood sweethearts. Though they both stayed in the same area where they first met, Dusty has grown estranged from Ruby, who lives in her childhood home as she takes care of her mother, Bess (Amy Madigan), a spunky lady currently battling an unnamed illness. (“She puts pills in her yogurt,” Callie Rose flatly states when Dusty asks about Bess’ health.) At the behest of Ruby, Dusty begins taking his daughter out regularly—to the library, to camp, to what little remains of the family ranch—not quite as a means of making up for lost time, but rather as a reminder of the intangible riches one can cultivate in the wake of material loss. 

Even if Dusty undeniably benefits from these intimate hometown connections, he still insists that he will shortly be moving to follow a job lead in Montana. This seems like the logical thing to do, as his undignified gig as a road worker doesn’t pay the bills and all other local job prospects are dead ends. As a last resort, he applies for a bank loan to buy the materials to rebuild his beloved estate—complete with space for cattle, goats and his cherished mustang—but is ultimately rejected. As far as the bank is concerned, the land itself is worthless; the scorched earth can no longer produce, and the likelihood of another fire eventually ravaging the land is high. Aside from the income the ranch once brought in for Dusty and his family, the ground contains something far more precious than fertile soil—a small family burial plot, containing the headstones and remains of Dusty’s parents. By permanently rescinding ownership of this place, Dusty threatens to desert those he loves once again. 

Cinematographer Alfonso Herrera Salcedo—who previously collaborated with Walker-Silverman on A Love Song, his equally stunning yet intimate feature debut—captures the cast and setting with dual finesse. Shades of purple and orange streak the sky at dusk while Dusty and his neighbors eat a home-cooked meal, their faces alight with the contentment derived from simple pleasures. As night quickly encroaches, their faces are never lost, an impressive feat considering the filmmaker’s clear favoring of natural lighting. Another technical highlight is the production design overseen by Juliana Barreto Barreto, whose touch is so precise that it nearly evades attention. The small family artifacts on display in characters’ homes—whether they be temporary refuges or longtime abodes—feel appropriately worn down by years of excessive handling. This is especially well-done with Mali’s trailer, which is decorated with the little she could salvage from the flames, including a smattering of children’s toys and a few weathered photographs of her husband. It may not be particularly pretty, but the beauty stems from a sense of raw reality.

As Los Angeles battles a similar tragedy, Rebuilding emphasizes the vitality of mutual aid. While institutions may portray themselves as avenues for assistance, their bureaucratic policies and bottom lines prevent them from actually helping people. Loans have high interest rates, trailers break down, and even the public library must shut its doors at the end of the day. Families, friends, and neighbors are the ones who intervene when it matters most, even if tangible resources are in short supply. While the act of rebuilding one’s home may be the ultimate goal, constructing a foundation of collective care will produce something much more valuable than a roof over one’s head: a true sense of support and security. 

Director: Max Walker-Silverman
Writer: Max Walker-Silverman
Starring: Josh O’Connor, Meghann Fahy, Lily LaTorre, Kali Reis, Amy Madigan
Release Date: January 26, 2025 (Sundance)