Bitterbrush

In following two young women employed as range riders in Idaho, the film presents its own modern-day picture of hard work and camaraderie.

Don’t go into the immersive, observational documentary “Bitterbrush” looking for profound insights or roiling conflict but rather a captivating and meditative look at two intrepid young women surviving — and seasonally thriving — in a traditionally male-dominated field: cattle herding.

Think of John Ford vistas by way of Kelly Reichardt’s lyricism, soulfully underscored by Bach, and you’ll be roughly in Mahdavian’s vicinity.

Bitterbrush director Emelie Mahdavian allows you to tag along with two range riders, listen in on intimate conversations, and bask in spectacular and sometimes unforgiving nature as you observe their way of life.

Mahdavian’s nonfiction proposes something distinct: a subtle portrayal of non-sensational humanity.

With Bitterbrush, Mahdavian announces herself as a filmmaker with a keen eye for capturing the contradictions and complexities of outsider women’s lives.

Mahdavian gives us enough for context and motivation before letting Colie and Hollyn take over with their enthusiasm and love of nature, and this opportunity to absorb it on a level very few people can. Because it won’t last. Life will interfere. So embrace the awe without regrets.