Billy Ray's Secret in Their Eyes isn't a bad idea, much as the concept of Hollywood remakes of foreign films is often defined as such. The 2009 original is a good film, you see, though much of what made it so good has been jettisoned in transit; the result isn't a bad idea, it's a bad film. A star vehicle in essence, the purpose of this twisty plot, set over two time periods, has gotten buried under a preoccupation with serving those stars; would that as much effort had been put into the script as the hairstyles. That plot is pure pulp, but it's pulp that insists upon being taken seriously, and a combination of buddy cop movie quips and soap opera histrionics undermine this requirement. It's inherently interesting, though equally implausible when presented this way, and the essential link between event and outcome, action and reaction, the mechanics of the plot and its effect upon the characters is lost. Ray lifts a number of sequences directly from Juan Jose Campanella's film, but to consistently diminished returns; he alters some major plot details in a minor fashion, diluting a particularly potent one that gives the ending distinctly less sting. The political context feels arbitrarily added, despite drawing directly from a similar one in Campanella's film. But remember: this is a star vehicle, and lead performers Chiwetel Ejiofor, Nicole Kidman and Julia Roberts are faultless. They carry you through, even as you know it's not their responsibility to.
A crime thriller that's as commonplace as they come, despite the admirable efforts of both director and cast, Triple 9 is the cinematic equivalent of hot air being slowly let out of a bag, only the air's been in the bag so long it's barely even room temperature by now. You know how Triple 9 ends almost as soon as it's begun, and John Hillcoat's sensitive direction only accentuates the disappointment - he contributes a stylistic flair reminiscent of similar American films from the 1970s, alongside a verisimilitude reminiscent of the best TV crime dramas; when your reference points are Serpico and The Wire, basically, you're doomed regardless of the quality of the script, and Matt Cook's is unimaginative and uninteresting. It's too sketchy to truly satisfy as pulp, and too derivative to qualify as high art, and Triple 9 must thus get by on whatever Hillcoat and his cast can salvage from this threadbare content. The former is on fine form, in fact, relishing the three opportunities he has to show what he's capable of, and the film's three main action sequences are excellently staged, and benefit enormously from Dylan Tichenor's great editing. The cast list spills over with A-list talent, some more talented than others, naturally; best are those playing against type, thereby reaping more from their roles as they search deeper within them and make the most of this chance to show off a little - Chiwetel Ejiofor, Kate Winslet and, briefly, Michael Kenneth Williams are standouts (in Williams' case, however, one must bemoan the persistent lack of trans representation in the film industry if they can't even get hired to play trans characters). Bits and pieces keep Triple 9 afloat, then, since they're all that this film amounts to anyway.
