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Mordant Though Melancholy Soul-Searching in Wild Horse Nine

Folks in America barely ever think about it, but their country’s reputation in Chile will always be clouded by what they did in 1973. It’s not widely taught, but the U.S. was instrumental (if not arguably the architect) in the September 11th coup that saw the country’s first democratically elected leader Salvador Allende -a socialist- overthrown and executed to be replaced by the fascist military dictatorship of Augusto Pinochet, whose junta dominated the nation for the next seventeen years. It was not a unique affair, this was an era where the U.S. first earned a reputation for destabilizing democracies -often left-wing democracies- in places likes Guatemala, Indonesia, and the Congo. Violence often came with these, and you have to imagine some guilty consciences among those involved in carrying out such drastic interventions.
At least that is what Martin McDonagh imagines in his latest satirical comedy-drama in which a legacy of American imperialism is built up and consolidated in the form of an aging CIA agent who has seen and partaken in it all. Wild Horse Nine is in many ways a refresh of material and themes from earlier in his filmmaking career -In Bruges especially, which the movie’s plot seems to consciously parallel. As a result the film does feel fundamentally less new or interesting than some of McDonagh’s others, but it still manages well off of his characteristically smart writing and some of the political conversations herein as well as a strongly realized character to hang the movie on.
That character is Chris Carlisle, played by John Malkovich, a CIA lifer stationed in Santiago in 1973 who is suffering from both dementia and terminal cancer -which he is nearing the end stages of. In addition, he has developed a guilty conscience and a sense of cynicism over the CIA and his morally compromised history -including some involvement in the JFK assassination- resulting in a cavalier attitude around exposing confidential secrets. He travels to Easter Island with his friend and protege Lee Chesterfield (Sam Rockwell), who we come to learn is either by Chris’s request or the assignment of their handler MJ (Steve Buscemi) there to execute Chris -as he himself, crude and cantankerous though he is, grows more meditative in what he knows are his final days.
Chris begins the film as a real nuisance, unnecessarily rude and antagonistic with virtually everyone, from a seemingly well-meaning MJ to a pair of young Chilean women he and Lee meet at the airport. He is an unapologetic and abrasive personality, and it does make for some good bits of McDonagh's typically colourful conversations, especially with Lee. There is a lucid, randomness to their dialogue that is quite entertaining, even as they deal with dark or uncouth subjects. Malkovich's unique delivery style fits very well this aged man with no filter and an impulsive streak losing some grasp on his mental faculties. But as he makes crude remarks about the Easter Island moai (a term he would deride me for using) and attempts to flirt with the young women they regularly run into, he also waxes poetic in his own way in the Dictaphone observations intended to be his memoir, equal parts meditative and cynically resentful. Malkovich translates really well the weight his lifetime's actions and their geopolitical consequences have on him -he still tries to distance himself (he personally didn't shoot Kennedy!) and outwardly maintains a callous attitude around the "good" that he has done, but it is clear he is not convinced by it. He finds menial solace in disjointed thoughts on dinosaurs, the anthropology of Easter Island, the romantic notions of reconciling with his estranged brother and dying in Venice, Italy, and in observing -even forming a bond with one- the wild horses of the island. He is a nuanced character, compelling, and sympathetic for his faults. The bond he forms with Monica (Mariana di Girolamo), though initially licentious and creepy, actually becomes quite meaningful -as he endeavours to warn her of the horrors about to unfold in Chile.
Rockwell is quite good too, cast unusually as the straight man here, though with his share of eccentricity -including in his relationship to his estranged wife, played by Parker Posey, whom he still cares for in spite of their alienation. Lee is a fantastic sparring partner for Chris, and Rockwell plays particularly well that dichotomy of annoyance with Chris and his uncouth personality yet real love for him as a friend and influential figure in his life. And Buscemi of course is a lot of fun as the irate boss. Each of them match on fairly cleanly to a character from In Bruges, but they are just distinct enough in style that it doesn’t feel entirely like McDonagh is simply repeating himself. He does have new things to say and a new perspective eighteen years later -age is a theme here where it wasn’t in that film, which surely comes from McDonagh’s evolved feelings and experiences, and does give Chris’s story a different kind of potency.
It also relates to the gravitas of their environment -a punching bag but also a source of wonder. The unique atmosphere of Easter Island, where the movie was actually shot, permeates the sense of meditation and isolation. The ancient air of the small island, though something Chris only ever takes half-seriously, alludes to a place outside of time in relief to Chris and his ethical reckoning. He fast becomes as sarcastically dismissive of the island as everything else, but it suits him and feels right for his and Lee’s dilemma. Ben Davis shoots it nicely, the evocative texture of the place really coming across.
There is a tenor of pessimism throughout the film that its humour does well to neutralize. It is the anticipation of the death of both Chris and of Chilean democracy, both treated by the film with appropriate severity. Certainly, the film is a damning indictment of the CIA and the devastation it has facilitated around the world for the sake of America’s own foreign interests, and there is a lot of bitterness that seeps through McDonagh’s script. At one point Chris even outlines very hopelessly the course of events for the next few months in Chile, including the sanctioned executions of protesters -it’s believable he would know this, he’s seen it all before. The film does allow for a little flicker of hope, a moving if somewhat hyperbolic call to stand up to tyranny; in Chile, though extrapolated to the wider apparatus of American imperialist hegemony. It might be all that could be hoped for, but McDonagh puts real stock in it amidst the dark comic chaos of his climax. He does so too with the bittersweet end devised for Chris.
Wild Horse Nine might be better thought of as a companion piece to In Bruges or even The Banshees of Inishirin -neither of which movie it frankly holds a candle to. As far as McDonagh has a playbook, this fits very comfortably into its most expected points and is not as sharp or as striking as his material has been at its best. Yet for that it is an intriguing film, driven by an intriguing performance and an enjoyable script that situates a real-world crisis and harsh though needed commentary with a good personal, melancholy character journey -right at home with all those big heads.

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