The widespread influence of the drug trade is seeping over the Mexican border into the United States. FBI Agent Kate Macer (Emily Blunt) is part of a raid that makes a gruesome discovery in a house linked to the Cartel. Shortly afterwards, she's invited to join an inter-agency task-force to track down a drug lord linked to the various incidents. The force is led by Matt (Josh Brolin) and assisted by mysterious operative Alejandro (Benicio Del Toro). Although soon it becomes clear to Kate that the task force is entering murky ethical and legal waters as it strays across the border into Mexico, and she is left with a moral dilemma.
Sicario opens with a brutal discovery which sets the tone for a dark gritty film. This is a story that can be at times confusing to follow, but which you're happy enough for Villeneuve to take you along with. It pulls no punches when it comes to confronting images of violent areas on the Mexican border (although this is more a result of our desensitized viewing habits) and actually manages to avoid the Hoo-rah 'Merica tone you might expect from the film. Sicario occasionally offers some sort of visual representation of good and evil, but what we really get is a dirty concoction of different shades of gray. Some of the characters arrogantly excuse their actions as a form of justice, but it's just an illusion. It's a film that lathers itself in moral and emotional ambivalence, which makes for some great plot development and suspense but at time it feels like it lacks direction.
This is another in a line of films similar to Zero Dark Thirty which puts a female lead into a war-like situation. The common link between these films is that the women are portrayed as having a hard outer shell which covers an emotionally-vulnerable interior. It's important to note that many other good war-films do the same for their male leads, however in films like Sicario and Zero Dark Thirty, the male counter-parts don't show any signs of fragility. Read into this what you will, the effect on the audience is the same; we see her as somebody who shouldn't be in that situation. It would be nice to see a more balanced approach to character development in these situations, simply because it can appear misogynistic, whether that was the intention or not.
Unsurprisingly with Roger Deakins at the helm, Sicario's imagery is absolutely stunning. The sweeping landscape shots give the impression of a living breathing landscape, despite being set on the dusty border of Mexico. The last act involves thermal cameras and night vision, which are handled surprisingly well, although the sequence itself does play out like a scene out of Call of Duty. The sound design is also extremely well-developed. Low booming tones frequently vibrate through the soundscape, an audio-motif that builds upon the film's bleak identity. The overall presentation of Sicario is relentless, repulsive and somehow beautiful.
It's interesting how a couple of years ago, before Edge of Tomorrow or even possibly Looper, you couldn't have imagined Emily Blunt in this sort of role, and whilst I still hold some reservations about her character, it's difficult to find any flaws in her performance. Josh Brolin is more difficult to judge. I reviewed him last week in Everest and in both instances his character was "that guy played by Josh Brolin". He's an exceptionally good actor but for me it's difficult to tell many of his roles apart. Del Toro's Alejandro on the other hand, is almost as enigmatic as the film itself. Whilst you can piece together his story by the end, he's still a character clouded in mystery. I'd like to think that this was an artistic decision, but sadly I know it's because Lionsgate already have plans for a sequel.
The ambivalent emotional direction of Sicario leaves you both strangely satisfied, and at the same time unsure about how to feel towards the events, the characters or the movie itself. It's a gritty, gripping, beautifully presented but confusing story that is perhaps not as radical or unique as it could have been.
