Terry Richmond (Aaron Pierre) is harassed by police on his way to post bail for his cousin Mike (C.J. LeBlanc). Officers Evan Marston (David Denman) and Steve Lann (Emory Cohen) accuse Terry of fleeing and suspect him of stealing a bike, and when they search his bag and find $30,000 in it, they try to put drug-related charges on him. Terry is Black, and the policemen are White, which is why you immediately insert a racial angle in this scene. Five minutes into the film, you already find yourself filled with intense anger and taking Terry's side. Inside the courthouse, another White character thinks Terry could be a part of a drug dealing team. Terry is obviously irritated, but he keeps himself from exploding with rage. His screams are brief and controlled in a way that suggests Terry is not an ordinary individual. He has discipline. Don't be surprised if I tell you that Terry is an ex-Marine. Here is someone whose eyes are always wide open - he is, by default, on alert mode, as if trying to steer clear of potential danger. Hence, the opening scene looks extremely calculated. Saulnier throws Terry in trouble with the police officers so that he can push our buttons and set the plot in motion. He is a talented manipulator of emotions. Saulnier knows how to create and sustain an edgy mood. He pulls us into his world and keeps us hooked from the beginning.
Saulnier is skilled at directing his actors to deliver the performances he desires. Pierre, with his taut muscles and steely gaze, makes you believe he has the necessary skills to take down a group of armed individuals. Pierre's Terry is marked by restraint. He is confident that he can win any physical fight, so his first instinct is not to raise his arms but his voice. Terry tells the officers that what they are doing is illegal. He also requests help whenever possible. Except for Summer (AnnaSophia Robb), no one quickly comes forward to assist him. After various chats and legal steps, when Terry still doesn't get to meet his cousin and post his bail, he confronts Chief Sandy Burnne (Don Johnson), ties him up along with Evan, and walks away with a portion of his cash ($10,000) by forcing Officer Jessica Sims (Zsane Jhe) to drive him. Notice how smoothly Terry handles the chief before taking him hostage at his own police station. He plays with him like a toy. Terry knows he can beat all the men, but violence won't free his cousin from prison. This is why there are not many fight sequences in Rebel Ridge. The attacks are mostly verbal. The use of force is a last resort when words prove ineffective. Consider the deal that Sandy offers to Terry. He buys him a new truck and tells him to stay away from Shelby Springs. If this verbal agreement is broken, violent measures will be taken to handle the former Marine.
Rebel Ridge is suspenseful - it's made with a lot of skill. Saulnier's direction is sharp, efficient, and thrilling. But the more time you spend with the film, the more cracks you notice. At 2 hours and 11 minutes, Rebel Ridge, while watchable, slowly reveals its flaws to the audience. Saulnier's writing offers limited perspective. His characters have no meat. They merely fulfill plot duties. The characters, as well as their actions, are tightly bound to the script. They don't have any experience or acquaintance beyond the boundary of the story. Everything is rigidly connected to the ongoing event. There is no place for freedom, imagination, discovery. Terry knows a man named Mr. Liu (Dana Lee), who was a field medic in Korea. "He's Chinese," says Terry, "Fought for the other side." How did they become friends? The movie simply sees Liu as someone who helps Terry. Summer, too, mostly moves the story forward with her investigations and history (she is separated from her daughter, so when she is drugged later, she calls Terry for help, which again puts him in front of the corrupt police chief). The police officers are nothing more than one-dimensional villains. Their job is to make us angry. All that talk about shady secrets, and deep conspiracy gives rise to a bland revelation that corruption has infected Shelby Springs. Terry, at one point, says, "I don't doubt what you're saying. But if the revelation is that your Bama-ass town is corrupt and my cousin and whoever else got fucked over, I don't need convincing." This line is all that Rebel Ridge ends up being. Saulnier makes everything convincing but offers little in terms of style or substance that feels fresh or invigorating. Rebel Ridge, in a way, is an average Netflix Original filmed with competence and efficiency.
Final Score- [6/10]
Reviewed by - Vikas Yadav
Follow @vikasonorous on Twitter
Publisher at Midgard Times