Wild Horses Nine, 2026.
Written and Directed by Martin McDonagh.
Starring John Malkovich, Sam Rockwell, Steve Buscemi, Mariana di Girolamo, Ailín Salas, Tom Waits, Parker Posey, and Paola Giannini.
SYNOPSIS:
CIA agents Chris and Lee face a trust-testing mission from Santiago to Easter Island during 1973 in Chile.
Vacationing on Easter Island prior to a CIA-backed coup in Chile in 1973, terminally ill agent Chris (an astonishing John Malkovich), who is planning to write a memoir pertaining to his life and dark secrets from years of service, somewhat becomes loose-lipped around normal civilians without giving a damn; he also can’t help disregarding indigenous terminology while cracking jokes toward the landmarks he comes across, most notably the moai, a group of stone statues westernized as Big Heads for that exact reason. Traveling college student Monica (Mariana di Girolamo) – whom Chris has already pissed off by essentially not being woke before woke was a concept – asks why he would come all this way to gander at a culture if his intentions are only to make a mockery of it. One could say the same to some people and their approach to movies.
Now, considering Wild Horse Nine is from writer/director Martin McDonagh, 99% of what comes out of Chris’ mouth is still irreverently hilarious, even if it’s off-color, with John Malkovich’s line deliveries hitting pitch-perfect comedic effect. Realistically, he’s always been this way, but again, he seems to no longer give a damn about what he says, who is in front of him, or, in the nature of his political remarks, who and what beliefs he is challenging.
And while we never necessarily get first-hand experience of his misdeeds over the decades, the gist is made clear that Chris has destabilized several democracies by killing a number of global leaders and high-ranking politicians, while also directly being involved with several enormously popular conspiracies. Having said that, there is another layer to John Malkovich’s performance, one of melancholy, mortality, and regret, naturally leaving one aligned with Monica, and perhaps wondering if someone who functioned as a cog in so much societal dysfunction and disarray could ever find some repentance in the beauty of absorbing art and culture. She doesn’t know he’s dying yet or why he can’t help but be a pathological liar, and there are moments where she and her women’s rights protesting companion Alicia (Ailín Salas) appear visibly repulsed by his pessimistic outlook on the world, not to mention horrified and unaware of what to do with his claims that democracy is mere months away from being taken away in Chile. Chris passes perspectives on the world; Monica has hers; in back-and-forth riveting conversations, one sees the value in both arguments, perhaps coming away unsettled, agreeing with certain thoughts on what it would take for real freedom and justice.
Again, this is also a film filled with absurd dialogue, with Chris rambling to his aggrieved protégé, Lee (returning Martin McDonagh collaborator Sam Rockwell), that democracy leads to “gay,” which leads to a better selection of cheeses. Some of this might make the character sound unpleasant to be around, but again, there is a real and complex grappling with morality, legacy, and damage caused. Meanwhile, their handler, MJ (Steve Buscemi), worries about what truths could come out in Chris’ proposed memoir. Given that the first chapter is about dinosaurs – Chris believes you have to give people something unexpected before what they came for, another fascinating possible metaphor for cinema – but it might not amount to anything. Nevertheless, it could still serve as a gigantic exposé on global CIA crimes.
Like Martin McDonough’s remarkable The Banshees of Inisherin, Wild Horses Nine also introduces a spin on the friendship dynamic, revealing another layer to the Easter Island stay. Lee navigates this casually, fielding calls from an angry, adulterous wife (Parker Posey) while listening to Chris’ thoughts about what he plans to write and what he says around others as he tries to sincerely befriend Monica. In their first interaction, he plays off upsetting her by remarking to Lee that “they aren’t going to get laid now”, but underneath an acknowledgment of perversion is someone deeply lonely who missed out on a romantic connection his entire life, doesn’t necessarily want to be perverted, and, if anything, wants to warn her and her friend of what the CIA has cooked up in Chile as an inevitability; a warning of such to future generations before dying and passing on the torch.
Stunningly photographed by Ben Davis (another past collaborator of Martin McDonagh), it’s the scope of the views and vantage points (accentuated by natural daylight and sweeping God’s-eye view shots). In the middle of this landscape are also wild horses, which symbolically figure into the narrative. At its core, something about this film also feels like a contemporary western, and one can’t help but think a passage toward the end is ironically making a point. Nevertheless, Chris seems to find temporary solace and calm in interacting with one of the horses, which is almost presented as divine or all-knowing, sensing his cancer.
The only slight shortcoming is that, for a film concerned with destabilized democracies and their countries, it might have benefited from more of those perspectives and a more direct depiction of Chris’ horrific actions. Showing them could also undermine the character’s likability, even if it would add complexity. For those unfamiliar with Chilean history, they will have to head to Wikipedia or crack a history book for more context on the coup.
However, as deep as these characters are, with trust also playing a significant role, Martin McDonagh again seems to see his characters as extensions of beliefs and ideologies. Some might call it heavy-handed, but Chris embodies global American sins, while Monica represents not only the progressive battles waged in the past for the greater good but also the current resistance. It’s all baked into another crackling screenplay from the filmmaker, undeniably one of the best around at writing banter with a twinge of profundity and melancholy. Wild Horse Nine begins there and gradually transitions into a heart-racing thriller of loyalties, conspiracies, memory, and regret, ostensibly about one man dying and reflecting on his misdeeds, but just as much a condemnation of CIA global affairs and a poetic treatise on life and what it might take to pull ourselves out of a bleak future.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★ ★ ★
Robert Kojder
