A Jeremy Renner jag from The Hurt Locker. Written and directed by Taylor Sheridan who has form for these neo-Westerns (Sicario, Sicario 2, etc.).
It's eventually established that the Indian Reservation that Renner works on (as a hunter of wild predators) is in frosty Wyoming. We get this info after Elizabeth Olsen (not her best work) arrives from Las Vegas, representing the FBI in a pale and witless echo of Twin Peaks. The absolutely stock action sequences are cut up with excessive and predictable exposition dumps that come too late. You can see the Mexican standoff of a climax from the minute the leads discuss security blokes at a mine site; the whole thing is as unsubtle as Waco. The jittery cinematography is really trying. So many scenes just don't work. The deracination of indigenous Americans is observed, passively.
This solid endorsement of vigilantism is probably aimed at filling the hole vacated by Eastwood when he retired Dirty Harry so long ago.
A Critic's Pick by Glenn Kenny at the New York Times. The opening scene is mystifying, suggesting we in for a mystical, poetic experience. That standoff scene is nowhere close to Michael Mann's efforts.
