"Rebel Ridge" and "Reptile": The Netflix Film-Noir Approach

It’s widely acknowledged that Netflix is a platform often criticized for producing soulless content. However, from time to time, the streaming giant does release an exceptionally well-crafted, old-school genre film. Last year, it was Reptile; this year, it’s Rebel Ridge.

The decent quality of Reptile can be explained. Oscar-winning actor Benicio Del Toro served as the film's star, co-writer, and executive producer, so it is likely that he had gained more creative control in negotiations with Netflix than less established filmmakers. This helped ensure Reptile wasn’t just another formulaic Netflix production.

However, it’s surprising that Netflix granted such creative freedom to Jeremy Saulnier. Saulnier is one of America’s finest mid-career directors, with Blue Ruin, Green Room, and the third season of True Detective as his credentials. Yet his previous Netflix film, Hold the Dark, was empty and lackluster, a waste of viewers’ time. So, it is a pleasant surprise that he managed to break free from Netflix’s algorithmic constraints to deliver a high-quality film like Rebel Ridge.

In terms of story, Reptile and Rebel Ridge share significant similarities: both explore police corruption in small American towns. In Reptile, Del Toro plays Tom, a homicide detective who successfully integrates into a new town, only to gradually uncover that his colleagues are part of a corrupt network, willing to use violence to protect their illegal gains. Meanwhile, in Rebel Ridge, former Marine Terry (Aaron Pierre) arrives in a small town to bail out his cousin, but after being unjustly stopped by the police and having his $36,000 confiscated, his cousin is soon killed in a prison transfer.

Corruption and conspiracy are central themes in both films. In these tight-knit small towns, everyone knows each other and covers for one another. An outsider has little chance of disrupting this system to seek justice for the victims. Yet, in classic genre fashion, the protagonist is always the one who dares to take on what others won’t. Tom and Terry, through wit and force, navigate the system, seeking its weak points and waiting for the moment to strike.

Both Reptile and Rebel Ridge carry a noir-esque vibe. Righteous men walking alone in a corrupt world, risking everything to confront injustice, is the classic narrative seen in Raymond Chandler and Lawrence Block’s hard-boiled detective stories, as well as in film classics like The Big Sleep and Chinatown.

Of the two, Reptile leans more heavily into noir. Tom, to some degree, is already part of the corrupt system, even if only on its periphery. In noir, the protagonist often struggles to cleanly separate themselves from the corruption around them, and sometimes, they even succumb to it. For a 2020s thriller, such a storyline might not be as acceptable—it’s perhaps too bleak for contemporary audiences, and production companies focused on safeguarding our psychological well-being might veto it during the script phase.

In Rebel Ridge, the boundary between good and evil remains clear. Terry is the wandering outsider passing through the corrupt town, while Summer, the female lead, is the loose cog within the system, observing its cracks. Together, they work from inside and outside to bring the entire system down. If Reptile edges closer to hard-boiled detective territory, Rebel Ridge leans more into the Western trope, with its lone hero taking on a corrupt collective—even if it means going down with them, it would still be a worthwhile cause.

Rebel Ridge also updates some genre conventions. Terry, trained in non-lethal combat techniques by the military, adheres to the principle of non-lethal force and avoids using live ammunition during his quest for revenge. His primary goal is to protect his partner and expose the corruption. This serves as an interesting inversion of the typical First Blood or Chuck Norris tropes.

Both films excel at building tension. Reptile is great at revealing the unsettling details beneath a seemingly peaceful surface, while Rebel Ridge masterfully ratchets up tension through an atmosphere of underlying conflict, steadily escalating to a boiling point, never releasing the tension until the story reaches its climax.

But these films, ultimately, are Netflix productions. When the situation calls for a bold, hard-hitting conclusion, both films falter. In Reptile, the corruption is resolved with a single shootout. In Rebel Ridge, the protagonists escape thanks to a last-minute twist—it turns out not everyone in the town’s police department is corrupt, with some good individuals biding their time within the system. The dark, intense atmospheres carefully built throughout the films are quickly deflated in these rushed finales, reducing the lasting impact and somewhat negating the commendable efforts made earlier.

In the end, Netflix’s noir films still lack the courage to explore the darkest corners of the underworld. We live in an era where films are seen as entertainment products rather than artistic works, and even the supposedly more flexible streaming platform films aren’t immune. This explains why true noir films, let alone noir masterpieces, are almost impossible in our time. Under the subtle censorship of the production companies, no one is spared.

However, at least we can still glimpse the potential of directors like Jeremy Saulnier. His control over visuals and storytelling is nearly masterful, and one can only imagine the heights his work could reach in a less restrictive creative environment. Let’s hope that potential isn’t confined to the realm of imagination.