How, you may ask, is a man be buried three times? It all depends on how a man lives. A hefty theme for what is quite a hefty movie and debut feature for the Oscar winning, Cannes celebrated, man-in-black turned director. Jones has a well earned reputation as a class act and his late appearance behind the camera is highly anticipated. Fortunately, he doesn’t disappoint with a sublime essay on racism, alienation and righteousness.

Working from a script by Guillermo Arriaga (21 Grams), Three Burials concerns Pete Pekins (Jones), a ranch owner whose friend, Estrada, is accidentally shot by border ranger Mike Norton (Pepper). When official processes fail Estrada (an illegal immigrant), Perkins takes the law, and Norton, into his own hands. Three Burials is a Texan road movie conducted on horse back. It’s a journey of vengeance and redemption swirling about Norton’s plight, now kidnapped and forced to return Estrada’s body to Mexico.

Anchored by Jones’ mesmerizing performance, Three Burials recalls Clint Eastwood at his most enchanting, both as actor and director. There’s a spellbinding tonal quality in the visual story telling that bleeds into every  actor’s performance – it’s a barely controlled rage permeating the story, leavened by glimpses of occasional humour. In time, it raises questions about the character’s sanity, and the toll Perkins’ pilgrimage is taking on the protagonists and their respective families, including Norton’s exiled, mall-loving wife (January Jones). It is an allegory about the distance people now travel to exact what is right. Three Burials is gutsy, dramatic, heartbreaking. It’s also terrifying but above all, it’s visceral storytelling at its very best.
 
// COLIN FRASER