by Joe Hammerschmidt
For the second week in a row, serious moviegoing audiences will be treated to a sequel three years in waiting, acting perilously on the strengths of a nearly perfect, in its own right and genre, masterpiece. The only difference this time, with a lack of rules comes an expected yet rather consequential replacement factor. Sicario: Day of the Soldado reunites two-time Oscar-nominated screenwriter Taylor Sheridan (Hell or High Water, Wind River) with two impressive actors still at the top of their craft, Josh Brolin and Benicio Del Toro, in a stakes-raised game of cat and mouse along the Mexican border, with familial bonds on the line and plenty room for continued character development. At the same time, plenty of the magic that made its 2015 predecessor so special a viewing experience at the time has been swapped out for more low-rent filmmakers that try their hardest to keep the momentum high, but can only reach a certain level of sufficiency. When all guns are blazing, this sequel couldn’t be more raring to supplant the first dose, and occasionally it achieves the goal; as a whole, there was so much that could’ve been done differently. What is there, however, is nothing short of a surprisingly enjoyable action drama, much like the first, albeit a little drained of that original spark.
Not much has changed in between, Matt Graver (Brolin) is still keeping all eyes on the border, and any potential trafficking incidents otherwise kept hidden from plain sight. By now, human beings attempting to illegally cross out of Mexico pay a heftier dollar than the robust cocaine market 20 years ago. A series of random warning calls (a grocery store bombing as part of the excitingly messy prologue), and the outsider threat of cartel kingpins, both seasoned and new, only put Graver and their even-keel associates on much higher alert. Del Toro’s antihero character, Alejandro, hesitantly agrees to another team up, if nothing more than to send an energetic message to rival cartels not to mess with American defense. From there, the sequel shifts really fast into a tale all about Alejandro, allowing Benecio to build the former reckless mercenary a slight social conscience when reminded too much of his own family being torn apart years ago as the result of a similar cartel conflict. One may have a difficult time questioning his conscience, however, in kidnapping teenage Isabel Reyes (Isabella Moner), heir to a smuggling ring fortune, a spoiled girl with tough words, but is immediately put in her place with lives on the line.
Expectations on this writer’s end had been very low over the very validity if a follow-up. It wasn’t even necessary, so one can wonder why they tried to bother without Denis Villeneuve, who of course took his core collaborators with him on the underappreciated Blade Runner 2049. Of course, he approved this sequel anyway, with Italian director Stefano Sollima (Suburra), a relative unknown to American audiences in the driver’s seat, but clearly unsure how heavy or how light to approach the written material Sheridan may be unashamedly proud of. Sollima’s first instinct as an experienced action novice isn’t necessarily the best move. While he stages the written action sequences appropriately, and while they are indeed captivating to watch, the effect feels incredibly cheap and possibly heavy-handed. This could be due to Roger Deakins also opting not to return, his own visionary style aiding to give the first Sicario its own weightless look, hovering over the activity like a careful drone would covering network baseball.
Darius Wolski (All the Money in the World) has had plenty of experience putting vision to hardcore actioners, his inner sense of shot staging is applied quite well to the grit and heat of the Mexican wilderness, his style rather cozy and familiar. But there’s an apparent conflict here, almost as if he was asked to try to imitate the same methods Deakins went for. In that context, one may find the results watchable, yet not as easy to digest; unique, yet still unable to break past its predecessor as a likely carbon-copy. Same could perhaps easily be said for Matthew Newman (The Neon Demon) who begets Villeneuve regular Joe Miller as editor, road scenes aside. At least Hildur Guðnadóttir, stepping in for the late Johann Johannson (may he RIP), knew how to keep the auditory senses pleased with no separation from installments. The music stays very close to the original, yet it nonetheless may have deserved better treatment in another director’s hands.