Rambo told ‘em “fuck 12”. The First Blood parallels are unavoidable, sure, and that’s certainly how Netflix has chosen to market it, but the teased “highly-skilled, highly-dangerous veteran unleashes righteous fury against corrupt small-town PD” only scratches the surface of Jeremy Saulnier’s latest, Rebel Ridge. Saulnier, most known for thrillers like his Kickstarter-funded breakout Blue Ruin and the anti-fascist masterpiece Green Room, just may have stolen the (IP slop-dominated) summer in its final weeks with a politically-charged chest bumper. A tactical, tension-filled showcase for a future superstar that is actually About Something (soapbox not included) with some of the cleanest modern-action set pieces this side of Stahelski or Jesse V. Johnson?  To quote David Letterman: “I’ll take all of that you got!”

We’re introduced to our ex-Marine hero Terry Richmond (Aaron “Mid-Sized Sedan” Pierre) riding his bike through a Podunk southern town, Iron Maiden blasting from his earbuds. (I can’t stress enough how dangerous this is to do in real life. Please, please don’t copy this fictional character the next time you go cycling.) Thanks to his “Metal Mix” playlist, Terry can’t hear the police cruiser’s siren behind him, and is consequently rammed off the road. This is what we call an “inciting incident”. See, Terry was on his way to bail his cousin out of jail with $36,000 in cash (10 for bail, the rest to start a new life). The cops are suspicious, they think it’s drug-related. In a situation like this, black skin does you no favors. But, miraculously, he’s let off with a warning. The money, however, is seized.

It’s called “civil asset forfeiture”. Essentially, a civil liberty loophole that allows law enforcement to seize property they suspect is connected to a crime without ever charging the owner of said property. “And it’s legal?” Terry asks Summer (AnaSophia Robb), a newfound ally working in the local courthouse. “Well,” she responds, “it’s a law.” There is a difference.

I think that’s enough plot specifics for now. I’ve already referenced John Rambo, so you can assume Terry doesn’t just submit to institutional malfeasance without a fight. Quite the contrary! He’s forced to kick ass, go on the run with Summer, and uncover a far-reaching conspiracy implicating not only local law enforcement, but the entire criminal justice system within late-stage capitalism—where supposed public servants are no longer simply tasked with protecting capital, but are additionally expected to turn a profit themselves.

Let’s talk about this cast. Robb, a former child star (Bridge to Terabithia, Because of Winn-Dixie, etc.), transcends the sidekick-who-spouts-exposition role, her pathos achieved through vulnerability and moxie. Don Johnson, as the crooked police chief always packing a lipper, oozes swagger and delivers pulpy dialogue like it’s his native tongue (“you could offer me eternal life or a catfish sandwich”). (He’s had a fun career renaissance in the last decade or so chewing it up in live-action paperbacks for the likes of S. Craig Zahler, Jim Mickle, and now Saulnier). I hope the lesser-known Zsané Jhé doesn’t get overlooked in a pivotal role as the PD’s sole black (not to mention female) officer, who’s effectively the station’s designated desk jockey until her call to action. (She also has arguably my favorite line: “Uh oh, I think he’s on the Wikipedia page.”) And saving the best for last: Aaron Pierre is a motherfucking Movie Star. I try to leave such hype to the influencer-types but it cannot be denied after Ridge. This guy was born to fill your screen. The camera loves him, his palpable intensity and those hypnotic hazel eyes command your attention for every frame. When shots linger on his face, I’m not sure whether to shiver or blush (maybe both?).

An extra wrinkle to the story of Pierre’s come up is that he wasn’t even supposed to be here. No, John Boyega was initially cast in the lead role, but left suddenly a month into principal photography. His reps claim it was a family emergency, while the studio alleges it was anything but (someone’s lying, but that’s none of my business!). Either way, this turned out for the best. With all due respect to Boyega, who’s listed generously as 5’9” on IMDB, he would need a lot of low-angled camera tricks and possibly a stormtrooper costume to match the imposing physical presence of his eventual replacement. And now that we’ve gotten the snark out of the way, let’s get back to being a Serious Film Critic.

The key here is Saulnier’s formal mastery of propulsive tension (even a family fist bump feels suspenseful) punctuated by expertly designed action sequences. Despite clocking in at about 2 hours and 10 minutes, it’s as relentlessly paced as it is methodical, and never less than engrossing. I hate to use a cliché like “edge of your seat” but I’m not perfect. That clean action I mentioned earlier is more of a “quality over quantity” situation. And what quality, with an emphasis on physicality and fluidity, grounded in legitimate forms of combat. 

If there are any significant slip-ups in Rebel Ridge, it’s arguably in how the film resolves itself, which (without getting too spoiler-y) is bound to frustrate some looking for a more radical conclusion. Basically, if you’re craving the smell of bacon, you’re in the wrong movie. But what we do get is both thematically consistent (a prominent theme throughout is the act of de-escalation) and narratively satisfying, so I suppose it can be forgiven for its optimistic (dare I say, naïve) outlook. And to see this kind of political consciousness in a crowd-pleasing action-thriller is not nothin’. In a post-George Floyd, post-Eric Garner world where “I can’t breathe” became a battle cry for social justice, I can’t think of too many cinematic images more compelling than a black protagonist putting a white police officer in a rear naked choke.