You pretty much always know what you’re going to get with a Martin McDonagh movie – sharp, acerbic writing, madcap set pieces, big twists and hilarious performances from a crew of talented stars. This formula carried his last offering, the funny and sad, Colin Farrell-led The Banshees of Inisherin to nine Oscar nominations in 2022. His latest is , another odd-couple two-hander which, like its predecessor before it, just premiered at the Venice Film Festival. Come awards season in 2027, I suspect this is a contender we’ll still be talking about.
Much like , boasts stunning, expansive landscapes, mysterious and beautiful animals (wild horses this time, in place of fan favourite Jenny the donkey) and a deep sense of pathos – but, much more so than with the former, I was surprised by how this new film won me over emotionally. It’s a laugh-filled romp, the kind of movie that lets you kick back and hang out, revelling in its glorious ’70s aesthetics and painterly cinematography. But then it swerves off road, into more serious and thoughtful territory, trudging through darker themes which chime with our dystopian present. Ultimately, it’s a film that stays with you.
Our setting is the Chilean capital of Santiago, and it is 1973, not long after the election of the nation’s popular president, Salvador Allende, the first Marxist to be in office in a liberal Latin American democracy. That, naturally, doesn’t sit too well with the CIA, who are laying out a plot to oust him. This will become the Chilean coup, the violent military overthrow of the government which saw dictator Augusto Pinochet come to power, while leftwing opposition was all but extinguished.
Two undercover CIA officers are at the centre of this operation: Chris (John Malkovich), a veteran of everything from the Bay of Pigs invasion to the crisis in Congo in the 1960s, and Lee (Sam Rockwell), his protégé-turned-minder, who has killed far fewer people and has a much stronger grip on reality. To the alarm of their boss, MJ (Steve Buscemi), Chris has become a tad doddery in his old age, reminiscing about his life’s work and threatening to write a memoir, which would, of course, spell disaster for his organisation.
This is when the pair are dispatched to Easter Island, that mystical, far-flung speck in the South Pacific populated by gigantic, human-shaped statues carved from stone. Are they here simply to sightsee or is there a bigger nefarious plan underway? The pieces of this puzzle quickly slot together, but the picture is complicated by the addition of two young Chilean students (Mariana di Girolamo and Ailín Salas) who our two anti-heroes keep running into. They are politically engaged, outspoken and optimistic about the future of their country. Once the coup begins, Chris and Lee know that they’ll be first in line to be detained, tortured and silenced.
As it sets up its conceit, initially tried my patience – there’s a tendency to over-explain things and some of the gags feel a little repetitive. But, it quietly builds momentum, culminating in a very McDonagh-esque bloodbath which feels cathartic and just and leaves you with a lot to chew over.
Malkovich is the standout here. Deadpan and impish, with an off-kilter sweetness mixed in with his unsettling volatility, he has all the best lines and delivers them with gleeful venom. The crabby, exasperated Rockwell is his perfect foil – though, awards voters will surely recall that he already has an Oscar, for his supporting turn in McDonagh’s divisive 2017 drama Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri. The 72-year-old Malkovich, on the other hand – despite a long and distinguished career, and two Academy Award nods (for Places in the Heart in 1985 and In the Line of Fire in 1994) – does not. In a still uncertain Best Actor field, he looks to have a decent shot, and would very well deserve it. He plays exactly the kind of loveable rogue, in the twilight of his life and considering his legacy, that older-skewing Academy voters tend to root for. (A special mention, too, for Parker Posey who is, as always, scabrously funny as Lee’s disinterested wife.)
Also deserving of awards attention is McDonagh’s playful screenplay, which darts from comic absurdity to meditations on death and the legacy of American imperialism. There’s one nihilistic, goosebump-inducing monologue, which Malkovich draws out with relish, that appears to nod to the seemingly unstoppable tidal wave of fascism we currently face – it’s been burned into my brain ever since. It’s worth remembering that McDonagh still only has one Oscar: Best Live Action Short for 2004’s . He’s been nominated six other times, for , and . Isn’t it high time he got a Best Original Screenplay Oscar at the very least?
When it comes to the top prize, it’s possible to see having a similar appeal to our last Best Picture winner, – both films obliquely acknowledge the times we’re living in and, in a frenzy of high-octane action and comedy, attempt to provide something resembling hope. With that in mind, while this doesn’t quite feel like a frontrunner, it might just be the dark horse you shouldn’t count out.
Wild Horse Nine will be in cinemas from 4 November.