Hell or High Water | Film Review

The notion of a good ole fashioned western is lost on a lot of filmgoers today. Much like the subject of WWII, this genre pool is deep enough to cinematically swim back-and-forth for the remainder of our lifetimes. Therefore, it is often difficult to find a novel approach to jazzing up the material. Especially over this last decade, we have seen numerous artists attempt to update this backdrop – cowboys chasing degenerates running foul of the law – in a more modern setting to varying effect. That’s where director David Mackenzie’s “Hell or High Water” comes in.

When we first meet Toby and Tanner Howard (Chris Pine and Ben Foster), they are rather clumsily – almost comically – robbing their first bank in the heart of West Texas. Tempers flare, escalating the situation, and it becomes readily apparent that Toby is the calm plotter, while Tanner is the wild hair straight up Toby’s ass that could curtail any perfectly planned task into a volatile situation. Brothers or not, these boys are often on differing pages of the same playbook: hit enough banks by the end of the week to save their family ranch. If they could only just agree on the methods.

Their actions toss a pair of Texas Rangers on their scent, led by Marcus Hamilton (Jeff Bridges, yet again reveling in his Rooster Cogburnisms), a man on the verge of retirement with a penchant for flippant racism towards his Mexican-Indian partner, Alberto (Gil Birmingham). Marcus conducts his investigation as all aging lawmen do, gut feeling and educated hunches, and lead the duo on a state-wide manhunt as our masked banditos carry on with their swelling crime spree.

Chris Pine continues his run as one of the most intriguing actors working today in yet another role determined to dirty up his pretty-boy exterior. Make no mistake, Pine has the most complicated role here – Foster runs at a half-cocked unpredictability throughout, while Bridges has an entire script full of salty wit – as Toby bears the burden of the story on his strong and silent shoulders. He’s the modern cowboy, all steely resolve and quiet menace, running parallel to Marcus’ chatty wordsmith at the crux of his career.

The contrast between these two men and the partners they’re saddled with is an insightful paradox that becomes an underlying theme of the film. Sure, there is much more at play here – banks pouncing on the unfortunate, brothers with conflicting ideals, fathers and the legacy they leave for their sons – but what I found most intoxicating was watching these two vastly different men, Toby and Marcus, at equal stages of frustration, each desperate to solve the riddle: Where do I go from here?

David Mackenzie and writer Taylor Sheridan should pat themselves on the back for this one as I’ve rarely seen the true cocksure bravado of West Texas brought this vividly to life. If you’ve ever stepped a single spur into the state, you have an iota of what to expect. If not, just walk into the movie knowing that everyone is packing and every male over 30 thinks they’re the living embodiment of John Wayne. These two vibrant truths, Mackenzie and Sheridan have captured with astute precision.

Rich with visceral action and a calculated script stacked with genuine humor, realistic twists and pitch-perfect performances, I feel like I’ve been drug back in time. A time when men wearing tall hats chased men with small hearts through the vastness of the American West.

So saddle up that pony, pardner, and let’s hit the multiplex. “Hell or High Water” is  the modern western we’ve been waiting for.