Jeremy Saulnier’s films, even his darkly comedic debut Murder Party, are shot through with a resigned skepticism about violence. The characters who willingly pursue it as a solution, even a protagonist like Blue Ruin’s Dwight (Macon Blair), suffer for it. However, those who try to resist, from Murder Party’s Christopher (Chris Sharp) or the band members in Green Room, find they have no choice but to wield it. Even then, that inevitability rarely brings relief or catharsis. Violence might get them out of a dangerous situation or safely back home, but it leaves psychological scars. Rebel Ridge continues this tradition.
Not that Terry Richmond (Aaron Pierre) doesn’t have plenty of good reasons to embrace violence. Within moments of arriving in a small town, he’s knocked off his bike by a cop car driven by Officers Marston (David Denman) and Lann (Emory Cohen). They’re white, he’s not. It’s easy to jump to conclusions about what’s about to happen. Despite their obvious racist stereotyping of him, however, they ultimately let him go. Unfortunately, before they do so, they strip him of the money he was carrying to bail his cousin Mike (C.J. LeBlanc) out of lock-up on a low-level drug charge.
It’s a very real process called civil asset forfeiture, which gives law officers tremendous power to seize money and assets from anyone they suspect of being involved in the drug trade. Worse, those who find their assets seized have little recourse. This town’s police chief, Sandy Burnne (Don Johnson), has happily taken advantage of it to make up for what he considers unfair restrictions to his budget. It’s police corruption at its most resilient.
Not a man to fly off the handle, Terry tries to fix things within the system. First, he connects with a law clerk for the town, Summer McBride (AnnaSophia Robb). She clearly wants to help but fears how the town’s systemic corruption will punish her if she does. While waiting for her, he decides to negotiate directly with Chief Burnne. That’s when it all goes bad in a hurry.
In many ways, Rebel Ridge feels like an alternate-universe take on Jack Reacher. Both revolve around military men of vaguely defined but fearfully impressive records turned wanderers. Both purport not to want to get involved, but their sense of justice won’t let them ignore its violation. Finally, both are motivated by their sense of brotherhood with siblings, literal and otherwise.
Where they differ is in their relationship to violence. Pierre, who I confess I mostly know as Mid-Sized Sedan from Old, is a strong on-screen presence. The way he holds tension in his body and the looks he gives with his striking eyes convey the tight handle he keeps his rage on. Unlike Reacher, who frequently delights in his physical dominance of others, Pierre gives Terry an almost mournful relationship with his ability to harm others. During one fight scene, the vibe is cold, resigned efficiency. This isn’t cool, and no one is having fun.
That’s not to take anything away from Saulnier’s vision or cinematographer David Gallego’s assistance in realizing it. Cool might not be the goal, but the film has a striking look. Much of it takes place in daylight, hazy and dusty enough to suggest long summer days. When things happen at night, there’s an inkiness to the darkness that heightens the tension without obliterating what the audience can see.
The director and his team also include thoughtful details that round out the world. For instance, the cops use their corruptly acquired seizure funds for “luxuries” like a fancy coffee machine. That expensive but uninventive purchase says so much about Burnne’s worldview. He’s the big fish in the small pond and his one ambition is to keep himself fat and happy on the top of that small food chain.
Saulnier also captures some great subtle moments from his actors, an underestimate skill in genre films. After achieving a victory, however short-lived it may prove, Pierre is pacing down a hall. A step or two in, he realizes he has nowhere he needs to be in the moment. No fire counting him to extinguish it. The wobble he gives as he processes that before sitting down is a clever bit of physicality that the camera highlights but doesn’t push. He also directs Johnson in a role that keeps his late-career renaissance going and Robb into one of the arguably most interesting parts of her career until it falls apart in the final ten or so minutes.
The biggest demerit facing Rebel Ridge is that it feels like Saulnier’s most straightforward film. Well directed and acted, to be certain, but there’s less complexity in it than I’ve come to expect from his work. It’s still better than 98+% of direct-to-streaming actioners, but even compared to his previous Netflix offering, the uneven Hold the Dark, it suffers. In place of complexity, it substitutes plot complications that send the heroes running from location to location but adds little by way of tension or depth. There’s nothing wrong, per se, with any of the raids on police buildings we see, but they start to feel like running time padders more than plot necessities.
Still, if Rebel Ridge is only underperforming compared to the director’s arresting filmography, that’s not a bad place to be. It might not be as strong as Saulnier’s track record would have one anticipating, true. But it’s still a strong—and most importantly, thoughtful—contribution to its genre.
Rebel Ridge seizes audience’s attention starting September 6 on Netflix.