For all its silliness, 49 Miles More ultimately knows when to slow down. There is sincerity beneath the mishaps and immature humour that make up most of its duration, and as it ends, this becomes even clearer with a final twist.
Odyssey is a word often overused to describe films. Any road trip or journey seems to claim the title with rather weak justification. But Oliver Cox’s latest film, 49 Miles More, has the change of fate, the eventful challenges, and the long, winding 49-mile road that warrant the categorisation. In the style of The Hangover (2009) and Due Date (2010), it is a comedic odyssey of laddish misadventures and camaraderie.
It begins with Max, a struggling insurance salesman set to meet his friends for a university reunion. Max’s glum state and financial struggles already foreground the male vulnerability that the film sets out to explore, and further justify his choices when, on the way to the reunion, he decides to walk half the distance after his car breaks down. Joined by an over-the-top and childish Doug who drinks all his beer, trouble seems ever closer. With 49 miles to walk and a night to survive in the woods, the two friends – one miserable and one far too carefree – try to make it to the reunion, running into obstacles on the way.
The film’s story and structure initially feel a little derivative, and channel an overplayed duo dynamic of one too crazy and one too serious (a reference to Shrek and Donkey is made partway through). But as 49 Miles More unfolds, it grows into something far more tender and affecting. Charming in its quieter moments and thoughtful in its reflections, the film builds towards an ending that brings its threads together, becoming a heartwarming ode to friendship, change, and the beauty of letting go.
Max, played by Reece Henderson, is a strong lead who strikes an immediate relatability as a hapless everyman, weighed down by uncertainty and dissatisfaction with the direction his life has taken. Doug (Gregory Fung), on the other hand, starts as an easily tiring, overly excitable jester, whose constant energy has the viewer sharing in Max’s exasperation. But as he mellows over the course of their journey, a vulnerability begins to emerge, adding surprising depth to this comedic dynamic. The strength and weight of Max and Doug as a pairing lie in the gradual revelation of what lies beneath their contrast. Cox ultimately develops his characters well, granting enough depth for even minor ones to resonate.
At times, the film’s comedy falls into an overtly juvenile, heavy-handed style that can be difficult to endure. Acknowledging the deliberately silly and laddish humour that this story calls upon, it is well distributed in parts. Still, it loses appeal in drawn-out and quick-succession scenes (one involving poison berries comes to mind). These absurdist moments are redeemed by a sharper wit elsewhere, with the dialogue drawing on the dry timing and irreverent charm of classic BritCom conventions.
For all its silliness, 49 Miles More ultimately knows when to slow down. There is sincerity beneath the mishaps and immature humour that make up most of its duration, and as it ends, this becomes even clearer with a final twist. Gradually, the film reveals itself as a more thoughtful exploration of friendship and change that lands with surprising power. Oliver Cox does not reinvent the comedic odyssey with 49 Miles More, but he does give the familiar formula enough warmth and vulnerability to remain memorably poignant.
49 Miles More is now available to rent or buy.
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