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.Â
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.Â
This article appears in Sep 24-30, 2015.
