🪓 Clear Cut (2024): Some Forests Don’t Forget What You’ve Done

"Every contract signed in ink was answered in blood—because the land keeps its own records."

The Indigenous say the forest has a soul.
The developers say trees are just timber.
Clear Cut takes no side—it simply shows the cost: the more blood you spill, the more the forest remembers.

A logging site. A quiet revenge. And axes that don’t care who deserves to bleed.
When a large corporation begins clear-cutting sacred forest land, idealistic lawyer Peter Maguire is sent in to "resolve" the conflict. He believes in legal negotiation.
But the forest doesn’t respond to logic—and guilt doesn’t go away with signatures.

There, he meets Arthur, a Native man whose methods are wordless, violent, and final.
He doesn’t fight with papers. He fights with fire.

You can authorize destruction. But no one signs up to become prey.
Clear Cut is a revenge tale where nature is not the setting—it’s the judge, jury, and executioner.
Justice isn’t served in a courtroom—it’s carved into the flesh of those who ignored the warnings.

The film walks a tightrope between righteousness and savagery—because some crimes are legal, but never forgiven.

The silence of the forest isn’t peace. It’s a roar waiting for its cue.
With a tone that’s both haunting and lyrical, Clear Cut evokes the deep pain of cultural erasure, ecological destruction, and complicity.
No one is fully innocent. No one is purely evil.
But evil is often just what happens when you don’t stop—even when you’ve been told to.

Some forests should never be cut. And some spirits should never be disturbed.
Clear Cut (2024) is not a message film.
It’s a reckoning. A reminder that the land remembers—and it does not forget quietly.