US Border Patrol Agent Angel Waters (Roberto Urbina) heads to the scene of what looks like a crossing gone tragically wrong, discovering what he believes to be the watery Rio Grande grave of a mystery man. Almost immediately, things go south as the corpse suddenly turns out to be very much alive, then very much dead in the custody of Waters and fellow officers Veracruz (Julieth Restrepo) and Hitchcock (McCaul Lombardi).
Finding their normally quiet station house slap bang in the middle of an Internal Affairs investigation, the colleagues’ trust of each other is tested to the limit as they attempt to provide a consistent, coherent narrative of the incident under pressure from elements both natural and supernatural, with strange visions and events forcing themselves into the lives of those who follow the physical evidence to draw their conclusions.
An intriguing meld of slow-burn character drama, paranoia-soaked thriller and low-key ghost story, director Lance Larson demonstrates a willingness to blend genres and carries off the mix with some skill. Tense interrogation sequences sit side by side with creepy vignettes, tender scenes of Waters’ home life co-existing with jarring jump scares.
The Texas setting is an atmospheric one, showcasing landscapes of both stunning beauty and lurking danger. Even in the daylight, those wide open spaces generate their own fear, exacerbated by the motivations of an enigmatic, seemingly omnipresent stranger whose single-minded aim of reaching El Paso may hold the key to a mystery which has echoes down the decades.
Throw in a couple of curious IA officers played by Chris Mulkey and Julio Cesar Cedillo, and you have a classic case of the walls closing in on small town cops, trying to cover their tracks in the wake of snap decisions that turn out to be unbelievably bad. Urbina proves to be a solid, dependable presence in terms of performance, his character’s stoicism both a blessing and curse to those around him, especially the twitchy Lombardi, who essays an impressive line in increasingly erratic behaviour, adding an extra layer of tension as the shaky alliance between the three officers comes under increasing stress.
Restrepo, thankfully, isn’t saddled with either the token female law enforcement type or the overly kick-ass cypher that litters the genre when the script calls for a memorable woman. Capable, flawed, full of suspicion, the film is at its most interesting when she’s around. Mulkey, in a smaller but nonetheless important role, is at his unnerving best, his questions loaded with traps.
There are so many threads to the tale that its resolution may seem overly neat but in many ways, this is a story which demands explanation, especially in its handling of its otherworldly elements. The fate of certain characters might conveniently materialise out of nowhere – literally at one point – and the predicted bleakness of those final moments does not quite come to pass but, in a genre which often falls over itself to deliver downbeat denouements, it’s refreshing to reach an end credit roll which is accompanied by a feeling of hope.
Deadland is pleasingly understated in the way it goes about its business, its brooding atmosphere left to simmer, punctuated by sporadic bursts of violence which are all the more impactful for their brutal banality. Eschewing blazing action for a more thoughtful treatment of a charged political situation, its focus on the unknown – in both the tangible world around us and its uncanny fringes – makes for an experience which frequently leaves the viewer’s nerves as frayed as those of its main protagonists.
Yes, many familiar thriller tropes are deployed, but Larson uses those as a stepping off point into something intriguingly different, maximising the effectiveness of its premise, managing its plot detours with assurance and inviting post-movie discussion of its big themes. What can be wrong with that?
Deadland (2023) appeared at this year’s Spirit of Independence Festival in Sheffield, UK.