This is simple but fine in the sketch; a horrendous border crime is uncovered in a house on the US side, it calls for a response of some kind, consequences. In an ideal world, the machinery of justice would whir into place and produce order, culprits would be apprehended, but it's not that kind of world, is it?
The whole point is that gears will turn, something resembling justice will be served, but the turning will shuffle morals, shift boundaries of what someone can get away with in a closed room or in the dark of the night when no one's there to watch.
The idea is that discord must be introduced, deliberate, planned disorder; a cowboy is brought in from this or that shady Washington agency to ruffle feathers, stir the waters to see what comes out from hiding. The film knowingly stirs all these elements on its surface, without the rat-ta-ta convulsions of the CIA airport thriller.
We have a medievally barbarous cartel on the enemy side so that even though the shuffling unnerves, we will wearily concede the necessity. But this makes it a truth demanding no less of our discourse; would you have it different? Is anything made right, or does any of it restore more than a passing order of appearances? A new head will be appointed the next day, the turning goes on.
But this will do just fine in the vicinity that it puts itself. Thriller in mechanics, but leaves room for anxiety that must be faced in the world. Tethers pulled taut in visual stretches, the land hums. With a little more ironic distance in the turn we would be in Coens territory, with a little more human friction in Sayles' turf.
The whole point is that gears will turn, something resembling justice will be served, but the turning will shuffle morals, shift boundaries of what someone can get away with in a closed room or in the dark of the night when no one's there to watch.
The idea is that discord must be introduced, deliberate, planned disorder; a cowboy is brought in from this or that shady Washington agency to ruffle feathers, stir the waters to see what comes out from hiding. The film knowingly stirs all these elements on its surface, without the rat-ta-ta convulsions of the CIA airport thriller.
We have a medievally barbarous cartel on the enemy side so that even though the shuffling unnerves, we will wearily concede the necessity. But this makes it a truth demanding no less of our discourse; would you have it different? Is anything made right, or does any of it restore more than a passing order of appearances? A new head will be appointed the next day, the turning goes on.
But this will do just fine in the vicinity that it puts itself. Thriller in mechanics, but leaves room for anxiety that must be faced in the world. Tethers pulled taut in visual stretches, the land hums. With a little more ironic distance in the turn we would be in Coens territory, with a little more human friction in Sayles' turf.