Netflix’s ‘Rebel Ridge’ Will Make Aaron Pierre a Huge Action Star

Standing 6’ 3’’ without an ounce of fat on his enormous frame, Aaron Pierre (Foe, The Underground Railroad) is a ferociously imposing presence in Rebel Ridge. That’s augmented by the calmness and politeness with which his character confronts his enemies. Speaking in a composed manner no matter the racially charged provocations hurled his way, and perpetually referring to antagonists as “sir”—at least, until they no longer warrant this respect—Pierre’s Terry Richmond is a titan unburdened by a hair-trigger temper.

Nonetheless, he’s not a man to be trifled with in Jeremy Saulnier’s feature, which premieres Sept. 6 on Netflix, about a military vet who runs afoul of crooked small-town cops. The writer/director’s first feature since 2018’s Hold the Dark doesn’t ultimately put its star through the slam-bang paces often enough, but as a human weapon pushed to the limit, the actor proves ideally fit for such rugged genre environs.

On a country road in the rural enclave off Shelby Springs, Terry rides his bike while wearing a backpack and listening via headphones to Iron Maiden’s “The Number of the Beast.” Terry’s metal mix makes him unaware of the police car behind him, although he certainly notices it when it rear ends him, sending him and his possessions sprawling onto the asphalt.

Officers Evan Marston (David Denman) and Steve Lann (Emory Cohen) claim that Terry was fleeing them after they’d received a report about a stolen bicycle, and upon searching his possessions—to which Terry reluctantly agrees, in order to speed this false-pretenses process along—they discover a bag full of cash. That $36,000, Terry explains, came from his stake in a Chinese restaurant run by Mr. Liu (Dana Lee), and it’s now earmarked for both bail for his cousin Mike (C.J. LeBlanc), who’s currently being held for marijuana possession, as well as a new truck that will be the basis for his and Mike’s boat-hauling business.

Netflix

Terry’s demeanor indicates that he’s telling the truth, just as a remark about military service elucidates that he’s a potentially formidable soldier. Still, he’s been caught in a tried-and-true trap by Evan and Steve, who confiscate his money (under suspicion that it’s related to the drug trade) and inform him that he can only recover it through a lengthy court process that’ll put him at risk of felony charges. With no means of objecting, Terry suffers this scam with grimacing civility and then promptly heads to the courthouse, where his story is met with a shrug by one official but sympathetically by clerk Summer McBride (AnnaSophia Robb), who agrees to speak with him privately about his problem.

Since Mike is about to be transferred to another prison where his life will be in danger (because of prior testimony he gave against an incarcerated bigwig), time is of the essence in Rebel Ridge, whose story soon takes on a First Blood-by-way-of-Jack Reacher flavor.

Dressed in a t-shirt that’s routinely soaked with sweat, Terry sets out to do something about his circumstances, and that invariably pits him against Chief Sandy Burnne (Don Johnson), a modern Boss Hogg who interrupts his sentences to spit tobacco juice, and who believes himself comfortably above the law he’s sworn to uphold. Chief Sandy is convinced that he has Terry over a barrel, and that winds up being his undoing, as the former Marine demonstrates in swift, impressive order.

As Chief Sandy and his corrupt minions learn, Terry is no average grunt but, instead, a martial arts expert whose prowess is so great, he’s featured on his squadron’s Wikipedia page. This marks Terry as a John Wick-ish badass whose poised, unassuming exterior belies his deadliness. Fortunately for his adversaries, however, Terry habitually opts for non-lethal combat maneuvers, many of them predicated on acronym-denoted procedures that form the foundation of his training.

Rebel Ridge never fully explicates its protagonist’s backstory, to its benefit; the scant hints doled out are more than enough to suggest a wealth of skills and experiences that could serve as fodder for a sequel. Similarly, for all its talk about the specifics of Chief Sandy’s nefarious scheme—which is designed to keep himself, his precinct, and Shelby Springs financially flush—the film moves at a clip that makes its finer details secondary to its brawny mayhem.

Alas, there isn’t quite enough of that in Rebel Ridge. While Blue Ruin and Green Room confirmed Saulnier’s skill at orchestrating terrifying backwoods suspense, the director’s latest is light on standout set pieces, and the few times it does kick into throwdown gear, it takes its foot off the gas before things get truly heated.

Even the material’s climax is something of a letdown, given that it merely unleashes Pierre for a matter of moments before settling for a less exciting car chase. Saulnier’s interest in character is admirable, and his charismatic lead makes Terry a menacing hero with a compassionate heart and a virtuous code. Yet the proceedings frequently feel as if they’re revving up to chaotic action, only to then back away in favor of a more middle-of-the-road register.

Allyson Riggs/Netflix

Unlike the prior works it superficially resembles, Rebel Ridge is hesitant to do the very thing it was designed to do, and that reluctance keeps it from hitting the highs promised by its engaging early going. S

aulnier’s sturdy stewardship prevents the film from ever devolving into sluggishness, and Pierre is so captivating—in a role that was originally slated for the far less daunting John Boyega—that he manages to energize even the slowest interludes, most of which have to do with Robb’s Summer, who works for a local judge (James Cromwell), is struggling with a drug habit and for custody of her daughter, and has potentially explosive dirt on Chief Sandy. Despite Robb’s fine performance, Summer is a tad too convenient a plot device for her own good, thereby sabotaging her budding partnership with Terry.

There’s a great action movie buried inside Rebel Ridge, but Saulnier never quite manages to unearth it. If eventually a bit of a missed opportunity, however, it’s also a solid programmer that, in an ideal world, would spawn a franchise of grander (and more violently unhinged) follow-ups.