Wild Horse Nine (2026) Review

It’s been a few days, but I feel like I’m still processing how I feel about Martin McDonagh’s newest film. Starring John Malkovich in what many are calling a career-best performance, it follows two CIA agents on a trip to Easter Island in the weeks leading up to the infamous coup that overthrew Salvador Allende. Things become complicated when one of the agents befriends two rebellious students, all while his terminal illness leaves him in a contemplative state. It’s a film about regret, friendship, and the absurdity of imperialism; but that absurdity can sometimes make the very real dictatorship the US helped usher in seem like a punchline rather than a historical reality that continues to shape lives of an entire people.

Don’t get me wrong, I really enjoyed a lot about this film. Malkovich’s performance is as astounding as everyone is saying. He’s simultaneously playing someone with a morphine problem, dementia, and cancer. The chemistry between him and Sam Rockwell’s Lee feels organic and their personalities play off each other in genuinely funny ways. I just wish I could say the same about the Chilean characters—what few there are, that is. We see, at most, two Chileans, one of whom is a covert operative, and beyond the surface level politics each represents, we learn nothing about their lives, about what drove them to their respective political convictions, about how they feel regarding the historical rift in their country, or what they stand to lose in the coup. It almost feels like this movie could have been made anytime, anywhere, including the fictional town of McDonagh’s previous Banshees of Inisherin (2022), and I don’t think that’s a good thing for a film that situates itself in such an important moment in world history. Chile, and the people who call it home, become little more than a backdrop against which two (white) imperial operatives can crack witty jokes and have philosophical insights about life and regret. While I appreciate McDonagh’s attempt to unveil the absurdity of imperialism, satire is a question of where the joke lands and at whose expense. When Malkovich’s Chris tell two Chileans, “Your country’s gonna get fucked,” it’s difficult not to feel like the historical catastrophe itself has become the punchline rather than the imperial system the film ostensibly seeks to critique. It’s a contradiction that finds a more compelling expression in the film’s formal choices.

              There’s a very sunny, almost washed-out look to the cinematography that contrasts sharply with the grave subject matter of the coup and Chris’ cancer. Harsh light makes the idyllic beach tableaux feel almost ridiculous; and that absurdity is taken to greater heights thanks to the use of16mm and Super 8mm film stocks, which add a heavy grain that genuinely makes some scenes feel like they’ve been lifted straight out of an old family vacation video. These choices create a nostalgic warmth that, in context, accentuate themes of regret and mortality. The same thing goes for the upbeat, almost circus-like score, which creates a wacky, playful atmosphere in a film that’s bursting with bleak insights and dark humor. These formal elements feel like more effective vehicles for the commentary the film is trying to make, imbuing its absurdity with an emotional weight that the bluntness of its punchlines can sometimes undermine.

              Ultimately, Wild Horse Nine is reminiscent of Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri (2017). Just like that film drew criticism for McDonagh’s handling disability and sexual assault, I can imagine several viewers being drawn to the ambition of Wild Horse Nine while remaining frustrated by its occasionally abrasive execution. Despite its many flaws, though, I found myself moved by the way music, light, and performance came together to tell a story of a man at the end of his life, reflecting on whether he truly made the world a better place. It feels like a fitting story for 2026, as the West grapples with its changing place in the world and legacies of colonialism and slavery continue to reverberate through our economies, relationships, and daily lives.