“There was a boy, a very strange enchanted boy…”
That was the tune that came to mind during the opening moments of “All the Wilderness,” which ultimately amounts to a visually ambitious tone poem about the none-too-surprising caprices of male adolescence.
A young teen boy is shown in a sunny overgrown garden as he studiously sketches a dead crow that’s lying prone on the ground. Lurking nearby is a ghostly scarecrow made out of white cloth.
Suddenly, a scene materializes of a father and his small son silently seated together on a porch as they stare out into the pitch-black nighttime sky during a rainstorm. “My father used to tell me about the wilderness,” the voiceover tells us. “He said it’s where all things go to live and where all things go to die. A place for wonder. A place for fear.”