Denis Villeneuve's masterful Sicario is a murky, morally ambiguous movie, but it's easy to identify precisely what it's trying to say. It's the story of a woman and a person of color surrounded by macho killers who disregard their input, viewing them as a hindrance rather than an asset. It's about the death of idealism, as Emily Blunt's Kate Macer learns that what she believed to be a virtuous fight is actually a black hole of violence and manipulation. And most of all, it's an exercise in near-anarchy by Villeneuve and screenwriter Taylor Sheridan, who carefully explore the lawlessness that exists in a world with no heroes and no villains. Whether you love the final product or hate it, the goals and thematic underpinnings of the film are crystal clear.
I can't say the same for Sicario: Day of the Soldado, a sequel that continues the action at the border while dropping many of the prominent players from its predecssor. Villeneuve and cinematographer Roger Deakins are gone, replaced by Italian filmmaker Stefano Sollima and DP Dariusz Wolski. Also out of the picture is Emily Blunt, which gives Benicio Del Toro and Josh Brolin a chance to take center stage. The only major talent returning is Sheridan, whose career has exploded in a big way since the original film. Yet even with a new screenplay from one of the most talented crime writers in Hollywood today, Day of the Soldado is a grim, tiresome affair, devoid of the rich and provocative core that made the first movie such a fascinating success.
Considering the pointed political commentary of his previous work, it's shocking to see Sheridan in a position where he seemingly has absolutely nothing to say. And yet, that's exactly what happens. Instead of providing any fresh perspective on the drug war, Sheridan merely recycles the structure of the original film, delivering more ambiguity and brutal violence in an exhausting retread. Day of the Soldado's politics should also be viewed with a more skeptical eye, as the absence of a character like Kate Macer makes the whole thing feel like monstrous inside baseball. The film opens with a series of suicide bombings at the border and in Kansas City, acts of terrorism revealed to be the work of the cartels. The drug lords are now smuggling ISIS soldiers into the country, working with these organizations to strike fear in the heart of America.
Immediately, I was concerned. ISIS and the cartels? That's a Fox News fever dream, not something that feels based in any sense of reality. From there, Secretary of Defense James Riley (Matthew Modine) and government operative Cynthia Foards (Catherine Keener) call in Matt Graver (Brolin), a man who has no problem getting down and dirty. The government wants Graver to start a war between the cartels, so he contacts Alejandro (Del Toro), an assassin seeking revenge against the men who killed his family, for some assistance. The plan is to kidnap the daughter (Isabela Moner) of the powerful drug lord who killed Alejandro's family, framing the abduction as the work of a rival cartel. Of course, when things turn violent, the plan doesn't quite work out like Graver expected.
Parallel to this action, we follow a young teenager by the name of Miguel (Elijah Rodriguez), who is entering the criminal world thanks to connections with his cousin. Miguel wants to become a sicario, smuggling people across the border in the aim of making extra money. While he doesn't connect to the main narrative at first, Miguel will cross paths with Graver and Alejandro in a way that could come back to haunt them.
Sollima and Wolski deliver some haunting and beautiful images, but if we're being honest, it isn't that hard to make pictures of the desert look stunning. Sollima runs into an issue with the framing of virtually every single scene, simply repeating the same format over and over again, lessening the impact with each gruesome repetition. It feels like Sollima attempted to carefully replicate Villeneuve's style, doing his best to capture the iciness and heightened sense of dread that permeated every minute in the original. But he has no knack for when to deploy music and when to stay silent, nor does he know how exactly to make these individually tense interactions connect in a significant manner. It comes off like a sophomoric rip-off.
Rumors are now swirling that Sollima only shot half of Sheridan's script, which would partially explain why the whole thing feels like such a generic, pointless endeavor. But why was it so dull in the first place, lacking even a semblance of thematic cohesion? I can't even begin to put a finger on the narrative goals of Day of the Soldado, let alone point to an actual thesis. If Sheridan and Sollima are trying to point out that the drug war is politically motivated and completely ambiguous, well, we've kinda already covered that territory. And if they're attempting to point out the ills of the U.S. government, they flat-out fail. After the end of the first film, there was nowhere to go.
The best moments come when the movie slows down and explores some quiet territory. There are a few reveals about Benicio Del Toro's stoic assassin that I quite enjoyed, as well as some heartfelt interactions with Isabela Moner's character. But so much of Day of the Soldado feels like an egregious rehash, taking these terrible individuals into such ludicrous and vicious territory that you just have to roll your eyes after a while. As Sollima's film reached its final act, I could actually feel myself dosing off to sleep, losing even a modicum of interest in the story. This virtually never happens to me. Day of the Soldado is just a vapid, empty exercise in style, and it's also an aggressively forgettable sequel to a truly great movie. I think I'm going to pretend I never saw this one.
THE FINAL GRADE: D+ (4.3/10)
Images courtesy of Sony
I can't say the same for Sicario: Day of the Soldado, a sequel that continues the action at the border while dropping many of the prominent players from its predecssor. Villeneuve and cinematographer Roger Deakins are gone, replaced by Italian filmmaker Stefano Sollima and DP Dariusz Wolski. Also out of the picture is Emily Blunt, which gives Benicio Del Toro and Josh Brolin a chance to take center stage. The only major talent returning is Sheridan, whose career has exploded in a big way since the original film. Yet even with a new screenplay from one of the most talented crime writers in Hollywood today, Day of the Soldado is a grim, tiresome affair, devoid of the rich and provocative core that made the first movie such a fascinating success.
Considering the pointed political commentary of his previous work, it's shocking to see Sheridan in a position where he seemingly has absolutely nothing to say. And yet, that's exactly what happens. Instead of providing any fresh perspective on the drug war, Sheridan merely recycles the structure of the original film, delivering more ambiguity and brutal violence in an exhausting retread. Day of the Soldado's politics should also be viewed with a more skeptical eye, as the absence of a character like Kate Macer makes the whole thing feel like monstrous inside baseball. The film opens with a series of suicide bombings at the border and in Kansas City, acts of terrorism revealed to be the work of the cartels. The drug lords are now smuggling ISIS soldiers into the country, working with these organizations to strike fear in the heart of America.
Immediately, I was concerned. ISIS and the cartels? That's a Fox News fever dream, not something that feels based in any sense of reality. From there, Secretary of Defense James Riley (Matthew Modine) and government operative Cynthia Foards (Catherine Keener) call in Matt Graver (Brolin), a man who has no problem getting down and dirty. The government wants Graver to start a war between the cartels, so he contacts Alejandro (Del Toro), an assassin seeking revenge against the men who killed his family, for some assistance. The plan is to kidnap the daughter (Isabela Moner) of the powerful drug lord who killed Alejandro's family, framing the abduction as the work of a rival cartel. Of course, when things turn violent, the plan doesn't quite work out like Graver expected.
Parallel to this action, we follow a young teenager by the name of Miguel (Elijah Rodriguez), who is entering the criminal world thanks to connections with his cousin. Miguel wants to become a sicario, smuggling people across the border in the aim of making extra money. While he doesn't connect to the main narrative at first, Miguel will cross paths with Graver and Alejandro in a way that could come back to haunt them.
Sollima and Wolski deliver some haunting and beautiful images, but if we're being honest, it isn't that hard to make pictures of the desert look stunning. Sollima runs into an issue with the framing of virtually every single scene, simply repeating the same format over and over again, lessening the impact with each gruesome repetition. It feels like Sollima attempted to carefully replicate Villeneuve's style, doing his best to capture the iciness and heightened sense of dread that permeated every minute in the original. But he has no knack for when to deploy music and when to stay silent, nor does he know how exactly to make these individually tense interactions connect in a significant manner. It comes off like a sophomoric rip-off.
Rumors are now swirling that Sollima only shot half of Sheridan's script, which would partially explain why the whole thing feels like such a generic, pointless endeavor. But why was it so dull in the first place, lacking even a semblance of thematic cohesion? I can't even begin to put a finger on the narrative goals of Day of the Soldado, let alone point to an actual thesis. If Sheridan and Sollima are trying to point out that the drug war is politically motivated and completely ambiguous, well, we've kinda already covered that territory. And if they're attempting to point out the ills of the U.S. government, they flat-out fail. After the end of the first film, there was nowhere to go.
The best moments come when the movie slows down and explores some quiet territory. There are a few reveals about Benicio Del Toro's stoic assassin that I quite enjoyed, as well as some heartfelt interactions with Isabela Moner's character. But so much of Day of the Soldado feels like an egregious rehash, taking these terrible individuals into such ludicrous and vicious territory that you just have to roll your eyes after a while. As Sollima's film reached its final act, I could actually feel myself dosing off to sleep, losing even a modicum of interest in the story. This virtually never happens to me. Day of the Soldado is just a vapid, empty exercise in style, and it's also an aggressively forgettable sequel to a truly great movie. I think I'm going to pretend I never saw this one.
THE FINAL GRADE: D+ (4.3/10)
Images courtesy of Sony
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