THE STORY – CIA agents Chris and Lee face a trust-testing mission from Santiago to Easter Island during 1973 in Chile.
THE CAST – John Malkovich, Sam Rockwell, Steve Buscemi, Mariana di Girolamo, Ailín Salas, Tom Waits & Parker Posey
THE TEAM – Martin McDonagh (Director/Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 118 Minutes
In the span of Martin McDonagh’s career as a storyteller, there has always been an interest in combining elements that represent an irreverent silliness that acts to mask a darker side that’s worthy of exploring. This is evident in his theatrical works long before his feature film debut, and each successive project has continued down this path. Every new endeavor, though, becomes more refined in that examination. The characters become more intriguing, and the thematic weight develops with greater maturity. It’s quite appreciated to see McDonagh’s evolution over these years, which seems to culminate in “Wild Horse Nine.” There’s still plenty of gallows humor, but at the core is a stirring meditation on grief and regret that becomes a completely moving experience by the end.
The backdrop is Chile in 1973. The country has just elected a socialist to be its president, the first-ever Marxist to claim the prize in the nation. That obviously has brought the attention of foreign interests, and the CIA is plotting a violent overthrow of the government in league with the military leadership. Two of these agents, Chris (John Malkovich) and Lee (Sam Rockwell), are on assignment in the country at the behest of their bureau chief, known only as MJ (Steve Buscemi). Shortly before the coup takes effect, the pair takes a trip to Easter Island from Santiago. Chris is the more cantankerous of the two, always bickering with Lee about inane subjects as he copes with a terminal illness. Lee tries to manage his mentor as much as possible in this new environment, with the inevitable specter of death hanging over them. They also meet two students, Monica (Mariana di Girolamo) and Alicia (Ailín Salas), who view these strangers with strong antagonism, especially towardChris,, who freely talks about the CIA’s intentions in the country. As their stay is prolonged, deeper emotions are revealed within each of these men, testing their resolve for the job at hand as well as their bonded friendship.
There’s a familiar foundation established within the story that, at first, seems like McDonagh is recycling old ideas. The initial set-up is very close to that of “In Bruges,” another tale about two people in a foreign land where death and suicide hangs in the air. There’s even a managerial character from afar who is constantly checking in on the slightly more mentally stable individual to confirm the status of a particular mission. It’s the most significant aspect of the storytelling that keeps this from being a truly innovative work within his filmography. It’s a dynamic he’s comfortable with, and almost all of his features have indulged in this two-hander with a third playing spectator to the emotional struggle. Still, it’s a little disappointing to see that blueprint carried out in nearly identical fashion, and apart from a flip in who is more afflicted by melancholy between the young and older person, most of the changes are simply cosmetic.
While the framework is recognizable, McDonagh still manages to infuse the narrative with much more grounded, compelling pathos. Chris may have plenty of quips and profane observations, but they are defenses against a deep pain that exists within him. His superiors are obsessed with a proposed memoir that will expose many of the company’s illicit activities. Still, most of his musings are somber reflections about a life filled with disappointment and heartache. He contemplates a personality assigned to the cancer growing inside him, knowing its success leads to its own demise and how cruel such a circumstance is for the organism that is also afflicting him. He finds comfort in the wild horses on the island, forming a strange connection with the animals as the only ones who seem to see his humanity. He may travel the land completely stoned on morphine, which contributes to his ramblings, but there is an emotionally wrought persona existing underneath that shell. His arc represents a soulful exploration of the horrors one nation inflicts on a global stage in the macro sense, but also the anguish at the end of life that can drive someone to seek inner solace.
This represents McDonagh’s great improvement as a writer: weaving such thoughtfully introspective commentary among his humorous asides. Watching tender moments that show characters acknowledging their nefarious actions that have been a corrupting influence on their humanity is as effective as the highly specific inspections meant to indulge in comedic remarks. There’s a particularly hilarious diatribe about the correlation between the strength of a country’s democracy and its gayness to the quality of cheese that might have quickly turned into edgy shock value a couple of decades earlier, but instead is a more astute analogy worth celebrating. The quick asides in the dialogue continue to play into his strengths as a writer, though after a string of impressive female roles he created previously, this work goes back to not giving them much to do. Even still, it’s the writing that has always managed to be the highlight of his work. When it comes to his directorial eye, it’s never been particularly flashy, and doesn’t have the same moody ambiance that was crafted in “The Banshees of Inisherin.” However, what it lacks in overt style it makes up for with a captivating tonal atmosphere that relishes sensitive earnestness, nicely underlined by another melodic Carter Burwell score.
Capturing the focal point of attention, Malkovich gives a magnificent performance that successfully shifts between mournful contemplation and sardonic witticisms. He may be playing another CIA operative who has invested in writing a memoir, but it’s a far cry from his broadly comic portrayal in something like “Burn After Reading.” His usual patented outbursts are kept to a minimum, and he often speaks in a controlled voice that registers his inner conflict on a profound level. Playing a character facing his own mortality makes every moment with him carry more weight, and his turn is exceptional at conveying that gravity. The delicate bond he forms with the horses and the sorrowful conversation he has with his irascible brother, played by Tom Waits, communicate a powerfully sad situation he finds himself trying to navigate. It’s by far one of the best performances in an already acclaimed career, and could be argued to be his actual crowning achievement.
Rockwell plays a good foil to him, always being deployed for a necessary deadpan reaction that plays well off of Malkovich’s personality. It’s a bit of a limited range he’s asked to give, until a threat that is forced onto his character causes him to act with a lot more exact determination. It’s a shift he communicates expertly, and it’s another valued aspect of his appearance that further emphasizes the endearing chemistry they share. It’s hard not to see Buscemi’s role as a pale imitation of the Ralph Fiennes part in “In Bruges,” but he will always be a joy to watch perform, and the same is true here. Between the two young students, di Girolamo has a bit more bandwidth to utilize and has a more genuine relationship with Malkovich’s character. She’s meant to represent the global citizens who stand to lose the most at the behest of a foreign government’s interference within a separate country, and it’s a necessary reminder that she embodies in her performance. Parker Posey makes a brief appearance as Lee’s wife, who is only in two scenes and never away from her telephone as she corresponds with her husband. She makes the most out of a small part, even though her contribution is little more than a plot device. But she manages to provide plenty of fun moments, particularly when the character’s numerous incidents of infidelity are referenced.
It’s quite tempting to call “Wild Horse Nine” McDonagh’s best film to date, and it has plenty of hallmarks that bring it close to that distinction. The maturity on display is so impactful, and his development as a storyteller is impressive. He takes well-worn trappings he’s used before and mines heartfelt sentiment from them. The characterizations are meaningful and touching in their search for personal reconciliation; the themes resonate, and the ensemble performances are engrossing from every participant. The return to a repeated storytelling playbook, along with less interesting parts for those who are not the two main protagonists, ends up being a demerit. However, there’s no denying just how absorbing this piece is, and it earns its notice as a marvelous and affecting work of art.
