Rebel Ridge (2024)

When we first meet Terry Richmond (Aaron Pierre) he’s cycling along a rural road, backpack on, headphones in, and rock music blasting. He doesn’t see or hear the police cruiser tailing him and is literally jolted off his bike when the white officer deliberately collides with his back tire. Although shaken, banged up, and bleeding, this former Marine (an intelligent black man with a commanding physical presence) quickly composes himself and engages with the officer with politeness and calm. But the arrogant and contemptuous attitude of Officer Evan Marston (played by David Denman) makes it clear that he is the last person who should be trusted with a badge and gun. Or perhaps the title of “worst officer ever” should go to Officer Steve Lann (played by Emory Cohen) who quickly arrives on the scene.

So why is it necessary for two officers to be present to question an injured bike rider, you ask? As the racist and confrontational attitudes of Marston and Lann make clear, the answer in the film (as in real life) is to provoke and harass the innocent black man. Instead of serving and protecting it becomes clear that “the job” for the pair is to find sinister ways to escalate an otherwise mundane situation. Terry’s bike ride then quickly becomes an anxiety-fueled, violent, and unwarranted traffic stop through which the two officers use threats to manipulate him into an unlawful search of his backpack. But it is what’s inside that illuminates the corruption of the local police force and sends Terry on an unexpected search for justice.

When Marston and Lann search the backpack they discover Terry’s hard-earned money – $36,000.00 to be exact – that he has just received through the sale of his stake in a Chinese restaurant. You see, Terry is on the way to the county courthouse to pay the bail for his cousin, Mike Simmons (played by C. J. LeBlanc) who has been incarcerated on a minor drug possession charge. This scenario is of course all too familiar to black men (and those of us who love them) across Canada and the USA, who have had their dreams and aspirations derailed for being caught with insignificant amounts of marijuana. Weaponizing racist assumptions, the officers immediately accuse Terry of being a part of a fictitious drug conspiracy although, as he explains, the quantity with which his cousin was caught did not indicate any desire to distribute, and, more importantly, they find no drugs on Terry. But what are facts and truth when the corrupt officers see an easy way to steal Terry’s money? The exchange makes clear that Terry is not dealing with reasonable or rational men, but criminals who are intent on creating a situation through which they can legitimize the theft of his money. They are completely unmoved by Terry’s earnest pleas that his cousin’s impending transfer to a state prison will make him the target of members of a drug dealing gang against whom he recently testified.

Rebel Ridge follows Terry as he slowly unravels the embedded corruption of the local police force headed by a defiant and unscrupulous white Police Chief, Sandy Burnne (played by Don Johnson). It is Chief Burnne who seals Mike’s fate when he officially claims Terry’s money under convoluted laws that ensure that reclaiming it legally will mean a court process that may take months. As it turns out, this coordinated harassment, confiscation of property, and abuse of power is an ongoing feature of this small southern town and how the Burnne’s police department funds itself and the caches of military grade weapons that it rents out to other local PD’s.

But with his cousin’s life on the line, Terry tries to strike a bargain with Burnnes. Take most of my money and just leave me enough to save my cousin from the jail transfer that might mean his demise. But in a manner reminiscent of a white enslaver, Burnne continually attempts to assert his dominance through threats and intimidation. However, Terry outsmarts Burnne, Lann, and the black female Officer Jessica Sims (played by Zsané Jhé), reclaiming his money from the station’s vault and rushing to the courthouse to pay the bail. It is at the courthouse that the white Summer McBride (played by AnnaSophia Robb) assists him, but too late. His cousin’s prison transfer is already in progress.

Rebel Ridge follows a devasted Terry on the heels of his cousin’s prison murder as he and Summer come to unravel the depth of the local police department corruption and the web of co-conspirators. The unlikely pair – mousy and reticent white legal clerk and soft-spoken, discerning, and commanding black ex-Marine – team up to unearth the truth of how the city has been funding its inflated law enforcement budget on the backs of innocent people. But the profiteering cops are not above using illegal means (like arson) or other potentially lethal tactics (like drugging Summer, a recovering addict) to silence the crusading duo. Indeed, straight up assassination is not outside of their wheelhouse, nor is shooting their own fellow officer to keep their secrets (and money).

Part drama, part action, Rebel Ridge is an exhilarating and anxiety-producing film which illuminates the stakes of corrupt policing and debunks the “it’s only one bad apple” excuse which is often trotted out by white apologists to undercut the legitimate, historically-based fears that black folks have about our engagement with American (Canadian, UK, fill-in-the-blank) policing and judicial systems. Zsané Jhé’s performance as the initially complacent Officer Sims is worthy of praise and is reminiscent of the understated Oscar-winning performance of Da’Vine Joy Randolph as Mary in The Holdovers (2023). The action scenes are gripping and nerve-racking, but unlike many of the more fantastical action movies like the Bad Boys or Fast and Furious franchises, they are also believable in a way that makes the consequences much more realistic and dreadful. When Terry takes over the police station, subdues officers, and rescues Officer Denman from a potentially fatal gun-shot wound to the leg (yes, the same Denman who terrorized him in the opening frames of the film) and Summer from a second potential overdose, the way that writer-director Jeremy Saulnier choreographs the scenes is both realistic and suspenseful.

Aaron Pierre is a commanding leading man standout with a bright future ahead. Of Jamaican, Curaçaoan, and Sierra Leonean descent, this 6’3”, hazel-eyed, black British marvel is simply stunning in face and form and destined for many more leading roles. While we applaud Saulnier for skipping the cliché romantic relationship between Terry and Summer (which would have seemed forced and unbelievable), we do want to know when Mr. Pierre will be cast as a romantic lead because, well, we honestly want to see more of him, a lot more!