Filmmaker Jeremy Saulnier wears a lot of hats in Rebel Ridge. He’s the writer and director, the producer, and the editor. He’s certainly not the first person to do all of these things on his movie, but he’s one of the few to do all of these things well. The director behind Blue Ruin and Green Room understands how to control tempo and measure suspense, but in his latest film, he brings a scope to his screenwriting not shown before. Are you nostalgic for when Taylor Sheridan used to be a good writer? Then I recommend Rebel Ridge, a movie that takes the fundamentals of a John McTiernan film – deeply intelligent action movie without even a whiff of pretension – while unfurling an epic tale of leveling the playing field by any means necessary.
Ridge stars Aaron Pierre, an English actor whose been climbing the movie star ladder these last few years. This is the first thing I’ve ever seen him in, but it’s a hell of a proof of concept. If Glen Powell is giving us a Tom Cruise for a new generation then Pierre is giving us a new Steve McQueen. His intense stoicism belies a simmering ferocity; a gentle giant who gives unsubtle hints that his kindness can only be stretched so far. In Rebel Ridge, that stoicism goes hand-in-hand with a hardened claim on his dignity, and a refusal to let that dignity be claimed by cartoonish villains. This is Pierre’s movie star moment, even if it is a Netflix release (another similarity with Glen Powell, their greatest star vehicle is chained to a streaming service). Even with Saulnier’s expert direction, Rebel Ridge has the undeniable quality of a film like The Fugitive; that is to say that it’s a terrific movie to watch on television.
Pierre plays Terry Richmond, an ex-marine entering the town of Shelby Springs, Alabama, on his bicycle. Before we even hear him say a word, a police officer – unable to get his attention with his lights – runs him off the road, sending him tumbling onto the ground. Terry didn’t notice the police car flagging him because his music was so loud, but the officer (David Denman) claims that he was fleeing. Soon, another officer (Emory Cohen) arrives. They place him in cuffs, search his bag, and find $36 thousand. Terry calmly explains that the money is to bail his cousin out of jail and then subsequently buy a truck from a Craigslist ad, but the cops infer that it’s possible drug money and seize the cash. Still maintaining his composure, Terry continuously pleads his case with the officers, while still maintaining his pride and self-respect.
Terry’s almost Herculean effort in staying under control is a running theme throughout the film. The police in Shelby Springs frequently defy his rights and insult his intelligence. That he never blows his stack is more enraging to the officers than if he was an actual criminal threat. In an effort to move things along, Terry accepts the officers’ terms and allows them to seize his money. He gets to the court clerk and pleads his case: his cousin was previously a witness for the prosecution, and getting transferred to a state prison is basically a death sentence. It’s at the clerk’s office that Terry meets Summer (AnnaSophia Robb), a lower ranking employee who understands his plight and promises to help – if he can get the money back. So Terry – his steady demeanor still intact – bikes to the police station, meets the chief Sandy Burnne (Don Johnson) and makes himself clear: he needs his money back.
Saulnier’s script is a windy, five-act thriller that is longer than you expect but surprising in how well it sustains its mounting tension. The story toggles between being an earnest drama and a B movie, giving our hero a noble mission while still possessing the beats of a one-man-against-the-whole-town romp. Walking Tall meets Hell or High Water. This is not a movie where the money jumps off the screen. Its troubled production history is well documented – delayed first by COVID, and then a second time when it’s original star (John Boyega) left the project a month into shooting. Part of this movie’s charm is how big its story feels compared to how precise and small scale the filmmaking is. Saulnier is working within the margins, crafting wondrous set pieces with deceptively simple set-ups, framing the narrative to enhance the intensity.
Despite its length, the story stays tight, with each sequence providing forward propulsion and avoiding narrative bloat. You may find yourself surprised at the legs on the story, but you’ll never be bored. In Green Room and now in Ridge, Saulnier is working with easy-to-spot villains. When the opening scene shows two white cops feverishly detaining a calm black man, the political ramifications are constructed for us immediately. That the entire police force ends up being corrupt is not a surprise – it would be a twist if they weren’t – but a further confirmation of the pillars Saulnier is erecting. Like the neo-Nazis in Green Room, the police in Rebel Ridge aren’t given space to show their sympathetic sides; Ridge doesn’t have time for that. And yet, the villains are not one-dimensional. Don Johnson’s Burnne gives reasons for his behavior and his corruption, and we understand the legitimacy that he sees in them, even if we know it’s just racism and greed. Saulnier prefers to humanize them through their inhumanity.
In the film’s second half, Robb’s Summer becomes something of a co-lead, and their partnership maybe stretches the well-maintained reality that’s been built. And (**Spoiler Alert**) the film’s conclusion can’t seem to help but fall back on the “few good apples” of the police to help our hero save the day. In my opinion, this doesn’t exactly represent a betrayal of the movie’s ACAB sensibilities, as much as it shows how tightly wound the script is at that point – I’m not sure the movie could have ended in any satisfying way without it. I hope this becomes a genuine Netflix hit – whatever that looks like – and not another streaming original that vanishes within a month of its release. If nothing else, it gives us an actor in Aaron Pierre who seems to actually relish the role of the sincere action star. No snide sarcasm, no self-referential deprecation. Just a man against the odds. That’s really all you need!
Written and Directed by Jeremy Saulnier