David Denman

Rebel Ridge

01/01/25

Netflix

Rebel Ridge wrong-foots me. Thanks to the title and blurb, I am anticipating a standard vigilante-revenge flick, but writer-director Jeremy Saulnier has created something far more interesting: a horrifyingly credible tale of police corruption and the suffering it creates.

When ex-Marine Terry (Aaron Pierre) cycles into Shelby Springs with a backpack full of cash, local cops Marston and Lann (David Denman and Emory Cohen) spy an opportunity to simultaneously throw their weight around, impress their Chief (Don Johnson) and boost their small town’s coffers. The image is all too familiar: a couple of thuggish white officers initiating a spurious stop and search and threatening an innocent Black man’s life. Only this time they’ve chosen the wrong guy.

Because Terry isn’t just the kind of person who serves as a role model – strong and self-assured, calm and intelligent, driven by a strong sense of right and wrong – he’s also a martial arts expert. He doesn’t want vengeance but he does want his hard-earned money back so that he can bail his hapless cousin out of jail. However, there’s something rotten at the heart of Shelby Springs, and local court clerk Summer (AnnaSophia Robb) needs his help to root it out…

Despite its premise, Rebel Ridge isn’t a very violent film. In fact, Terry actively avoids physical conflict, using his combat skills only when absolutely necessary. Instead, the focus is on the insidious damage caused by a legal system more focused on protecting itself than the public it’s supposed to serve – an exposé of the way that self-interest trumps morality, leaving carnage in its wake.

David Gallego’s cinematography evokes the Wild West, underscoring the sense that Shelby Springs is a tyrannous and untamed place. Meanwhile, Terry is reminiscent of the ‘good cowboy’, the quiet hero who rides into town and restores order. Pierre is perfectly cast in this role, exuding dignity and strength as well as real emotional depth. When it comes, the final battle feels well and truly earned.

A clever hybrid of action movie and social commentary, Rebel Ridge gets 2025’s film viewing off to a flying start.

4 stars

Susan Singfield

Brightburn

17/06/19

I have often lamented the over-preponderence of superhero movies currently dominating the multiplexes. Those who share my misgivings may take some solace in Brightburn, which, although an unashamed slice of shlock, at least gives this increasingly played-out genre a fresh coat of paint (even if the colour in question is undoubtedly a dark shade of crimson). Produced by James Gunn, written by his brother, Brian, and his cousin, Mark, Brightburn is founded upon a simple question. What if somebody with superpowers was actually a psychopath?

Tori and Kyle Brever (Elizabeth Banks and David Denman) are the long married couple living in the wilds of Kansas, who have been trying for years to have a baby, with zero success. The late night crash-landing of a vehicle from outer space gives them the unexpected opportunity to adopt its sole passenger, a newborn baby. If this sounds familiar, it should do. It’s a cheeky borrowing of the Superman origin story.

The child, whom they name Brandon (Jackson Dunne), is fairly ‘normal’ until he hits puberty, when he starts to experience anger issues. Quite typical of an adolescent, I’ll grant you, but Brandon also begins to discover that he has some pretty amazing super powers – and, as they develop, so do various unsavoury habits that would give Clark Kent an attack of the vapours – like wearing a seedy-looking costume, spying on any girl who is unlucky enough to pique his interest, unleashing bloody mayhem on those who are rash enough to cross him, and leaving his monicker at the scene of the crime. (Be warned. The film focuses unflinchingly on visceral injury detail. Anyone who is twitchy about eyes and broken glass may want to look away at a key moment in the story.)

So yes, this is shlock, but it’s better produced and acted than most of the films that occupy this genre and manages to generate enough suspense to keep you hooked throughout. There are jump-scares too for those who like that kind of thing. Whilst the storyline doesn’t stand up to an awful lot of scrutiny, you do at least identify with Tori and Kyle’s inner conflict. Coming to terms with the fact that your adopted son is a brutal killer is not the kind of thing anybody would want to have to deal with, but deal with it they must.

And, as the body count steadily rises, they realise it’s time to take a stand…

3.8 stars

Philip Caveney