Two things can be true at once: The Rip is a great film and it is released at the absolute wrong time.
Written and directed by Joe Carnahan and produced by and starring Ben Affleck and Matt Damon, The Rip is the kind of quintessential early-2000s thriller that once would have secured a big theatrical premiere. It is tightly written, well-acted, and an all-around efficient film that, by all accounts, deserves the praise it gets. I enjoyed my time with it, yet still felt conflicted about the source of my enjoyment.
That's because The Rip is also a film about tough cops doing thankless hard work in the face of overwhelming odds, and the lengths they'll go for justice, regardless of what that looks like. It arrives at a time when trust in this system is deservedly at an all-time low. As America descends further and further into a fascist dictatorship, with citizens gunned down in the streets by faceless death squads, it's hard to watch this kind of film and not think about everything surrounding it.
You can almost tell how adamantly The Rip refuses to touch or even acknowledge these topics. We get half-hearted inclusions about cops arming themselves like their own private military and how easily they utilize racist stereotypes for their own benefit, but it's more to set up plot points than to take a stand. In the end this is a story with clearly drawn heroes and villains that believes in the myth of a good guy with a gun.
In a way, there's something oddly admirably in such bullheadedness, just as there's something equally frustrating in the same willful ignorance. The Rip exists because it is made by people who have the fortune and privilege to not worry about ever falling victim to the forces they depict. I can easily understand why someone would choose to ignore this film entirely on those grounds.
Taken as a childlike cops and robbers exploitation flick from a past era, The Rip is an uncontested hit. Is that contradictory? Yes, absolutely. But it's so far removed from any reality that you could strip the iconography of law enforcement entirely and it would remain the same picture. Why Carnahan, Damon, and Affleck didn't is a whole other can of worms.
While The Rip continues Carnahan's fascination with the sub-culture of the police force, like the lingo and posturing required to pursue such a violent lifestyle, it could just as easily be about any clandestine organization with very minor changes. Each exists in an alternate reality that invents new names for mundane objects just to remove them from normality. It is easier to rob and kill when you don't call a gun what it is.
Tying this together is the effortless chemistry Damon and Affleck bring to their parts. You believe they're lifelong friends because they really are. It's stunt casting in the same way that Paul Newman and Robert Redford were in their era. We know them so intimately as stars that they are believable in almost every part they play. Few actors reach the level where recognizability and talent are equally matched. Affleck and Damon wield both strengths masterfully.
The story kicks off with the murder of a beloved member of the Tactical Narcotic Team (an abbrevation so ludicrously on the nose it has to be real). Before her death, she was onto something big, but we don't know what, how, or why. We arrive in the story late and leave it with just enough questions to keep us engaged. Damon and Affleck are next in line for the throne. Right off, we question whether or not they would have it in them to kill for more power. It is to the credit of everyone involved that at no point does any answer seem like a sure thing.
By the time the film gets to the inevitable discovery of riches and begins to mount up the tension, Carnahan has built a solid enough groundwork that even the most outlandish twist feels earned. The Rip borrows heavily from westerns like Stagecoach and The Treasure of Sierra Madre, further transplanting it to an almost otherworldly plane. If it didn't have the ties binding it to recognizable elements of modernity, it would be much more easier to recommend.
At just over two hours, The Rip is so efficiently paced that I didn't even notice the runtime. Films that go this long and don't make me antsy are a rarity, and even when the final act threatens to run away from itself, Carnahan keeps things unexpected. There is a finality that feels earned. There is no other way for this to end, and it feels wonderful to watch a movie that knows the story it wants to tell.
Which leads us back to what that story is. Why Carnahan, Damon, and Affleck chose this as their next project in this period of time remains a mystery to me. They're smart filmmakers with enough goodwill that I doubt their intent was to create anything but an entertaining film. But it's also possible that this desire failed their other instincts which in turn made them blind to everything else.
What does that say about my ability to enjoy the finished product even while acknowledging its shortcomings in other areas? Especially when I couldn't bring myself to enjoy The Pitt due to similar concerns? It appears this glass house of mine comes with a bucket of stones as standard.
Perhaps, like medical series and others involving institutions of varying failures, we need movies to tell us comforting lies because they bring about a sense of normality. Maybe sometimes it's enough to just watch something made by talented artists and accept with grace that which is.
It isn't perfect or clean, but it's enough.
The Rip is available on Netflix starting January 16th.
