Those Who Wish Me Dead – Review

Those Who Wish Me Dead

Directed by: Taylor Sheridan

Runtime: 100 minutes

For the last few years, writer and director Taylor Sheridan has been on an elemental hot streak. After the initial runaway success of the Denis Villeneuve-helmed cartel action thriller Sicario (2015)—which netted Sheridan an award nomination for Best Original Screenplay from the Writers Guild of America—each one of his follow-up ventures has embraced his distinctive protean qualities: the brotherly tale of robbery and redemption in Hell or High Water (2016), the ice-cold sting of retributive justice in Wind River (2017), and the fractured bonds of place and parenthood in Yellowstone (2018-present).

While the regrettable Sicario sequel, Day of the Soldado (2018) may have given in to Hollywood’s cynical insistence at pumping out needlessly redundant spiritual successors, Sheridan’s latest feature effort puts him firmly back in the familiar neo-Western saddle, directorial reins in hand, with a tight grasp on story, character, and narrative tone.

Based on the 2014 novel of the same name by Michael Koryta (who adapted the screenplay alongside Sheridan and Charles Leavitt), much of Those Who Wish Me Dead takes place in the rural mountain forests of the Montana wilderness. Hannah Faber (Angelina Jolie) is a veteran firefighter and smokejumper, haunted by a recent traumatic episode in which a fatal error in judgment ultimately cost the lives of a colleague and three hapless children. Failing her post-trauma psych evaluation, Faber now suffers in silence, hiking through the forests in solitude by day, keeping a distant watch for flames on the horizon by night, sequestered up high in a remote lookout tower. Ethan Sawyer (Jon Bernthal), Faber’s ex and a local country sheriff, keeps an eye on her from afar, worrying about her mental state and reckless displays of self-destructive behaviour.

The story then pivots to Connor Casserly (Finn Little) and his father (Jake Weber), on the run from two lethal assassins, Jack Blackwell (Aidan Gillen) and his son, Patrick (Nicholas Hoult). Connor’s father has some dirt on powerful, well-connected individuals, and the Blackwells have been tasked by corrupt government figures with silencing the information trail, ruthlessly executing anyone who gets in their way or even those with the unfortunate luck of seeing their faces. On their drive from Florida to Montana to rendezvous with Sawyer—a long-time family friend and someone they believe they can trust—Connor and his father are ambushed by the Blackwells, who quickly dispatch Connor’s father, but not before he passes on the information confession to Connor, ordering him to run and escape into the forest.

When Faber eventually runs into Connor, becoming aware of the stakes of his predicament, she offers the boy shelter and decides to help him pass on his father’s information to the non-corrupt authorities. Sensing the need to literally smoke Connor out of hiding, the Blackwell assassins deliberately set fire to the forest, forcing Faber and Connor to run once more and escape a blazing inferno, outwitting their deadly pursuers in their process.

What makes Those Who Wish Me Dead succeed as a relatively boiler-plate thriller is Sheridan’s willingness to let the film breathe. Despite a conservative runtime of only 100 minutes and a water-tight three-act structure, Sheridan goes to great lengths to infuse the film with quiet, thought-out character beats and sonorous visual imagery.

At one point, stopped on the side of the road, Connor walks through a fence and shares an intimate interaction with a horse, standing calm and serene amongst the dry and barren Midwestern landscape. As Connor’s father explains the dangers inherent in his job as a forensic accountant, and his reasoning behind their decision to go on the run, the camera follows their journey by tracking over winding highway roads that carve serpentine paths through lush mountains and endless grassy plains. When we see Faber in the depths of her grief and trauma, the film moves in and out of harrowing dream sequences and flashbacks, contrasting her raw emotional energy against solemn natural surroundings, imposing cliff faces and ancient trees that stand in silent judgment of the choices she will always regret.

While Sheridan’s decidedly neo-Western flair is clearly indebted to the work of filmmakers like the Coen Brothers and authors like Cormac McCarthy, Those Who Wish Me Dead lacks the narrative complexity of a similar work like No Country for Old Men (2007)—both of which feature reluctant protagonists on the run from stalking forces of death, albeit with entirely different motivations. However, this relative simplicity works in the film’s favour, with believable set-pieces and dialogue that crackles with a mix of self-awareness and relatability, leaning into the blue-collar camaraderie of the smokejumpers and the cold, clinical rationality of the Blackwell killers.

Big-name stars like Jolie and Bernthal give grounded performances as Faber and Sawyer respectively, despite their limited screen time together. However, it’s Australian and homegrown Brisbanite Little who strikes out with his nuanced portrayal of Connor, more than earning his place as a talented young actor to watch. (Perceptive viewers and fellow Sheridan disciplines may also spy several Yellowstone cast members rounding out the film’s extras in various minor roles.)

All in all, Those Who Wish Me Dead is both a compelling character drama and a gripping blockbuster. The film’s inevitable moments of tense action and kinetic thrill are most impactful when sequenced next to warm scenes of sparse landscapes. While the third act burns out a little towards the end, with a messy conclusion and slight stretch of wildfire realism, Sheridan is certainly a master of his craft and in fine form once more.