Wild Horse Nine (2026)

It’s 1973, and CIA agents Chris (John Malkovich) and Lee (Sam Rockwell) are putting the finishing touches to a wildly successful operation to destabilise Chile’s government. Then, with their job in Santiago all but done, they’re sent on a detour to Easter Island.

What follows is a beautifully written bromance. Against a backdrop of American meddling abroad, McDonagh’s film takes in friendship, loneliness, grief and even the near-taboo subject of euthanasia, and handles every one of them well.

The film moves much like Chris and Lee do: steady but pitch perfect, never rushed. At 118 minutes it’s no short watch, yet you leave feeling it was exactly the right length. It’s like a good meal, satisfying but leaving you hungry enough to argue about it on the way home.

Malkovich, who won best actor at Venice for the role, and Rockwell, on his third film with McDonagh, are entirely convincing as agents posted to countries whose politics Washington dislikes, with the sole job of toppling their governments. But the backdrop is secondary. The film’s real subject is the relationship, and how years away from home can forge a bond between two people thrown together by – what occupies most of anyone’s waking hours – their work.

So exquisite is the execution, from the leads down, that the CIA setting could just as easily be swapped for any travel-intensive job. They could be corporate salesmen jetting around the world flogging conference space, rather than toppling democratically elected governments. You often forget that – outside their unique bubble – the pair are more than likely the villains here.

Instead you buy into something very human: office politics in a big organisation, an overbearing boss (Steve Buscemi’s bureau chief, MJ), and the paranoia of being friends with a colleague when one of you experiences a change in motivational alignment with that of the company (to put it lightly). The humanity of the characters runs from first scene to last, laced with comic timing in typical McDonagh fashion and the verbal back-and-forths that come from over-familiarity and spending prolonged periods of time with someone.

The direction is superb. During the sightseeing scenes, McDonagh cuts to the viewpoint of Lee’s Super 8 home movies, capturing the trip the way a family does. It conveys the warmth between the two men better than any dialogue could.

And, just as on any holiday with family or friends, Chris scolds Lee for always being behind his camera, a new habit he blames for scaring off two women; Lee insists it wasn’t the camera (it wasn’t the camera). It plays like friends or family bickering on holiday, and Lee’s urge to record his time with his friend makes more sense as the plot unfolds.

McDonagh reunites once again with composer Carter Burwell, who has scored every one of his features, from In Bruges to Three Billboards and The Banshees of Inisherin. It’s another excellent partnership. Burwell’s score stays quietly in the background, complementing each scene and leaving the performances room to shine, along with the beautiful landscape of Easter Island (captured by Ben Davis’s cinematography, another long-standing McDonagh partnership with consistently great results).

Overall, Wild Horse Nine is a hit. It’s funny in all the right places, and it takes on hard subjects without flinching. Its best scenes bring into focus what it means to spend your time well, and they do it not with pity but with real grace.

The film also takes on bigger conflicts in the background: capitalism against communism and, implicitly, developed democracies against developing ones. Every party on either side of the divide is resolute that its way should prevail for the greater good, with no pursuit able to avoid human cost. The final scenes skilfully counterbalance all this, as one of the most human feelings of all subtly prevails: trust.