Excuse the profanity in the title, but if you don’t find yourself shouting or thinking passionately some kind of profane platitude (i.e. “f*ck yeah” or “holy sh*t”) while watching Rebel Ridge, then you have ice running through your veins. The new Netflix film by one of America’s best young directors, Jeremy Saulnier, is an instant classic. It’s an action masterpiece, but not in the purely technical and aesthetic way of a John Woo or Johnnie To film. Sure, Rebel Ridge has some exquisite action set pieces, but it’s not as action-packed as you’d expect. It’s also a brilliant sociopolitical commentary, a kind of cinematic ‘State of the Nation,’ and also a soulful character study of an abandoned veteran.
Despite the obvious excitement, when people saw the trailer for Rebel Ridge, they immediately compared it to First Blood — a veteran is hounded by local police, who abuse him enough that he lashes back with violence, using his considerable military skills to survive. That basic storyline certainly applies to Rebel Ridge, but Saulnier’s film goes so much further. It is a socially better Rambo movie, a modern Rambo, a smarter Rambo. As such, Rebel Ridge manages to provide powerfully provocative political statements while also being enough of a crowd-pleasing, fist-pumping action spectacle that it hardly requires its audience to be ACAB leftists. Though it may make you one in the process.
Rebel Ridge Has a Perfect Opening Scene
Rebel Ridge, like its Marine Corps-tuned protagonist, is mercilessly efficient. The opening scene is a masterclass in writing, editing, and acting, containing nearly everything we need to know. We’re introduced to Aaron Pierre in a medium shot as his character, Terry Richmond, pedals his bicycle to the tunes of his “Metal Mix,” listening to Iron Maiden as he pumps the bike, oblivious to a police car’s flashing lights behind him. When the cop car doesn’t get his attention, it simply drives into him and sends him and his bike crashing. From there, he’s on the ground, guns pointed at his head. “Fleeing and eluding,” they call it.
Terry is a Black man in Shelby Springs, Alabama, which is already dangerous for him. Little does he know that the police in Shelby Springs are about as corrupt as they come. So it doesn’t matter that he’s a veteran, clean, and without a record. Terry is ingenious, but makes the biggest mistake of his life here. He’s in a hurry, so instead of waiting God-knows-how-long for K-9 units to arrive and search him for drugs, he consents to be searched by the cops. Never do that.
Terry Is a Good Man Versus a Bad World
Turns out Terry’s carrying roughly $35 thousand cash with him to bail out his cousin — arrested for marijuana possession — and start a new life. He sold his truck and his business for that money, and now it’s the subject of a police seizure (property has no civil rights). It’s all ostensibly ‘legal,’ but it’s also BS and disgustingly immoral, and Terry knows it. It’s one of the many tiny iniquities that ruin Americans’ lives every day, and it may seem small, but that’s the point. It’s something any normal citizen could experience. But Terry isn’t a normal citizen, and he doesn’t have much left to lose.
Terry needs to get that bail money quickly before his cousin is transferred to state prison, where he will be targeted after being a witness and sending a crime leader to prison. Unfortunately, every aspect of the system is against him, except for one kind woman at the courthouse, Summer (a quietly astounding AnnaSophia Robb), who is working to become a lawyer.
Don Johnson Is Comin’ Straight from the Underground
That quick opening scene organically sets the stage for everything to come. Terry needs that money to save his cousin, but the corrupt police will not give it back; something has to give. The opening scene is also about as honest a depiction of police interaction as we’ll see in mainstream cinema. It must be said, any viewers who may have a Blue Lives Matter bumper sticker will likely cringe at this film.
But Saulnier does make an effort to show how the police (especially in rural areas) have been the subject of ruthless budget cuts and myopic social initiatives, to the extent that some have been pushed into corners and forced to take matters into their own hands. The police, as fascistic as the institution can be, are still tethered to politics and subject to a vast bureaucratic echo chamber that acts like a reverse Midas (everything it touches turns to sh*t). In that sense, ‘the police’ as a generalized subculture is humanized, but make no mistake — they are the villains in Rebel Ridge.
And they’re led by Chief Sandy Burnne, played by the outstanding Don Johnson (in an infinitely more realistic depiction of the police than Miami Vice’s Sonny Crockett). Johnson has proved himself to be one of the most underrated actors of his generation. If he were offered the right roles, he’d be as rightfully acclaimed as De Niro or Hackman, but it wasn’t really until the 2010s (with Eastbound & Down, Knives Out, Django Unchained, Watchmen, etc.) that we realized he was so much more than Crockett or Nash Bridges. He’s an outstanding villain here, and quickly becomes Terry’s nemesis in what they agree is a “pissing match” of sorts.
The Perfect Action of Rebel Ridge
And what a pissing match it is. Suffice it to say, Terry has a longer stream than the police chief, but the chief has a whole force behind him, resulting in some classic one-man-army-type action scenes. While most movies in that one-man-army subgene exist in the 90-minute range (First Blood, Cobra, Taken, John Wick, The Transporter), Rebel Ridge is a surprising 130-minutes. That’s because it isn’t entirely reliant on action to succeed; the movie develops its characters well, especially Terry and Summer, without resorting to trite romantic subplots. It’s patient in developing the plot and exploring its themes, but never uninteresting.
Yet when that action comes, well, I’ll be damned if it isn’t fantastic. Saulnier chose to edit Rebel Ridge himself, and it’s clear that he’s a natural. He has complete control over what we see, and his sense of place and space is masterful. There are two or three sequences in the film that are simply breathtaking, and we are always just as conscious of the scene’s space as Terry is when he’s unleashing his tactical skills. The action is both realistic and mesmeric, and while it happens less than you might think for a film like this, it’s done perfectly (especially the final 30 minutes).
Aaron Pierre Is a One Man Army, and a True Movie Star
It’s Aaron Pierre, though, who sells all of this. Everyone in the film is excellent, but Pierre gives a star-making turn that immediately qualifies him as one of the most promising young actors out there. He’s realistic, down-to-earth, and surprisingly subtle most of the time, even when he’s just barely concealing a burning intensity beneath his gestures.
Pierre is relatable and vulnerable, but he’s also incredibly intimidating and utterly impressive in the action sequences. What he does without CGI and tens of millions of dollars to support him is astounding. Pierre is the epitome of stardom here, a cross between Alan Ritchson, Chow Yun-fat, and Cary Grant. I’d say, “Hollywood, take notice,” but he’s arguably too good for the retired detritus of most Hollywood franchises.
It all comes together perfectly in Rebel Ridge, a masterpiece of not just action cinema but sociopolitical agitprop. You can love this film without spending a second thinking about its complicated critiques of institutional power, or you can love this film’s message and also get an adrenaline-fueled kick in the butt with its perfected thrills and action sequences. Either way, Rebel Ridge is one of the best movies of the year — for anyone. Rebel Ridge is now streaming on Netflix, watch it through the link below:
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