In addition to Sicario, writer Taylor Sheridan has made a name for himself with other rock solid films like Hell or High Water and Wind River. Between all four of his films, he's made a respectable personal style: Simple, brutal procedural thrillers in Western inspired settings surrounded by toxic male machismo playing into their morality tales. Sheridan may not have much range, but clearly he puts a lot of thought into the presentation - especially in regards to the character writing, and the suspenseful results show. But without original director Denis Villeneuve, there was this inevitable worry if the same intensity could be kept up in Soldado (what I'll refer to it as for brevity). And the answer is both yes and no. There is plenty to Soldado that is inspired, but also some that drag the film right down.
The same bleakness in tone absolutely carries over to this film, adopting a more topical approach compared to that of the first film, that being the timely issue of illegal border crossing and human smuggling, especially the fear and paranoia of who we let into that country. In Soldado, this topic is confronted head on, as a series of suicide bombings paves the way for the central conflict of war on the cartels, that generates a morally gray area, in which to prevent acts of terrorism also means to keep out well-meaning people, families, in genuine need of sanctuary, and it's not uncommon for our fear of one to blind us to the needs of the other. At what point do we draw the line? At what line do we let our basic instincts of survival override our humanity, and our compassion obscure our logical reasoning?
In wake of the events, Matt Graver is then given excuse and free rein to dismantle the Mexican cartels like a national empire or government. Resorting to the same violence employed by their targets, him and his team of the FBI seek to turn the factions against one another like hounds bred for fighting. But nobility has no place in their battle. It isn't in their nature to care about the casualties that are direct effects of the war, so long as their targets are crushed. Brutality has merely become routine, a daily grind that not only asks, but requires that morality be forsaken to accomplish those goals, where the act of a man being shot down on the sidewalk in cold blood now no longer phases us.
And this feeling of war and brutality being casual really is best exemplified by Graver, reprised by Josh Brolin, who we can surely pen in for performer of the year following Infinity War and Deadpool 2. If you recall Sicario, one of his most defining moments came in that early conference with men in suits, while he showed up in comfy flip flops. Remorse and compassion seem to be blacked out of his programming, observing drone strikes and murder scenes with a very nonchalant attitude, slurping on ramen noodles as if it's just a typical day at the office. So long as the job gets done, and the home team has minimal hitches, the consequences and fatalities couldn't matter any less, at least as far as Graver's warped black and white distinction of good and bad sees it, as Brolin sinks to his coldest and most terrifying.
In addition to Brolin, Benecio Del Toro's icy hitman Alejandro returns, and Del Toro is fantastic, if unfortunately undermined somewhat by this film. Unlike Graver's loose cannon nuance, it isn't that Alejandro doesn't have some form of humanity to him, it just doesn't matter to him. In both films, any notion he had of being the better man died out along with his family, and so any semblance of compassion has been snuffed out, replaced by the ongoing quest to make everyone associated with the cartel, in some way or another, feel the exact same pain and torture he endured. There is nothing left but icy steel, turning him into a wildly unpredictable and nihilistic force of nature, and terrifying at his peak.
But unfortunately, Del Toro is defanged a bit by giving him this Logan-esque pair-up to the daughter of one of the Cartel druglords. That being Isabela, played by Isabella Moner, who fills in for the absent Emily Blunt as counter-balance to the toxic machismo. To her credit, Moner proves a devastating performer, having developed a violent attitude as a result of greater consequences she has no comprehension of, but even so is unready to set foot in it, restoring some humanity as she regresses from forceful confrontation, into a scared and confused girl just trying to survive.
Where this pair-up falters, however, is that it goes against one of the core features of Alejandro. In the last film, he cemented himself as someone with no interest in being the better man, perfectly willing to murder the children of his family's killer, before threatening to do the same to Kate at the very end, all in cold blood. This does not seem like the type of person who'd suddenly grow so attached to a girl he just met, especially the daughter of his enemy (his words, not mine). An extended stay at a farm does him no favors, especially for someone as reliable as Sheridan who normally steers clear of unneeded exposition, and while I'm all for giving a despicable character new layers, this doesn't feel like the best way.
But that's not the only subplot within Soldado. Whereas the original film had brief inserts with Maximiliano Hernandez as a cop transporting drugs for the cartel, this sequel attempts to recreate that template with Miguel (Elijah Rodriguez), who is recruited in smuggling immigrants to asylum across the border. And this subplot really did nothing for me, not only because it has neither the bearing nor the impact that that first attempt instilled, but its sense of personal stakes and idealism, these thoughts that even the most honest of human beings can be turned into dogs of war, say absolutely nothing insightful that wasn't already covered adequately before. It brings the film to a grinding halt every time it shows up.
And try as he might, director Stefano Sollima is no Villeneuve. He fills the void decently, and the imagery that he captures - lensed by Ridley Scott muse Dariusz Wolski - does provide some stunning camera-work (even though I missed Mr. Deakins), but he is not as successful in capturing the dripping tension that made Sicario such a heart-pounding film. In comparison to those standout scenes like the opening house explosion, the border gate, and the night vision tunnel raid, nothing about Soldado really manages to capture that same sense of terror and anxiety. With one exception, a spectacular convoy turned shootout sequence on a dirt road, a terrific action and suspense showcase in long and often frantic takes, that more than measures up to the best that Villeneuve could've done. What Sollima didn't recapture, however, is the pacing, especially because by the time Soldado has entered its final third, it's devolved into such a sluggish state as it crawls along to the finish line, stretched thin by its refusal to stop, and desperate for streamlining.
But the one thing it has going for it, its ending shot is genuinely unforgettable, and by its pure minimalism may be the most violent moment of the film. Soldado may not have been an absolutely essential continuation, but it was an engaging one nevertheless, that added tremendous new layers to the brutality of its world. Alas, it also did so at the cost of undercutting other layers to it. The effort is solid, but imbalanced.
***1/2 / *****
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