Adept at creating a sense of oppressive dread and fascinated with characters forced to compromise their morality, director Denis Villeneuve isn’t one to shy away from films that deal with issues of ambiguity and hypocrisy where human behavior is concerned. Having made a name for himself with Incendies (2010), a familial mystery set in the Middle East, he made a splash in the states with the one-two punch of Prisoners and Enemy (both 2013). Much like those movies, his latest, Sicario is a work of savage intensity that examines the notions of good and evil in a world in which such concepts are clung to by only the most naïve, while those who have abandoned them have seen their humanity stripped away from them by powers beyond their control.
The innocent in the fray is Kate Macer (Emily Blunt), an FBI Agent who’s been working in the Phoenix area for three years, trying to turn the tide of the steady flow of drugs from the Mexican cartels. Kidding herself into thinking she’s making a difference by fighting the good fight, her faith is shaken during a raid that goes horribly wrong, underscoring the futility of her actions. However, an opportunity presents itself in the form of Matt Graver (Josh Brolin), a federal agent who recruits her for a special task force formed to take down the head of the Mexican cartel. Eager to strike back at those responsible for the deaths of her colleagues, she fails to realize she’s making a deal with the devil.
As constructed by screenwriter Taylor Sheridan, Macer serves as our surrogate and as such the viewer may find themselves in the dark at one time or another as she is given little information as to what her purpose is or what the true objective of the group’s overall mission. Suffice it to say, this serves to frustrate the viewer more than it generates the sort of suspense Villeneuve is striving for. If the intent is to put us in Macer’s shoes, the vicarious experience that’s created is all too effective.
Obviously, futility and the compromises that result from it are central to the film, providing motivation for its three central characters. Graver accepts what he does with a sort of bitter irony he masks with a degree of humor that barely obscures the callousness that lies beneath. His polar opposite is Alejandro, an advisor that approaches this mission with a sort of resigned weariness that belies a deep rage eating away at him. In Benicio Del Toro’s hands, this haunted man is rendered in a tragic light that effectively highlights the moral cost of fighting an unwinnable war.
However, in the end this is Blunt’s film and she shoulders the load admirably. Macer’s rage, frustration and sorrow are palpable thanks to the actress’ willingness to immerse herself in the role. Too bad the script leaves her in the lurch. Mercer’s inability or unwillingness to change after all that she’s witnessed simply doesn’t ring true and this false note nearly undoes the film’s thematic thrust. After the horrors that Villeneuve has shown us, a character that refuses to compromise in a world that’s uncompromising is a concept that simply doesn’t wash.
