The True Story of a Racist Gang: Kurzel Explores Formative Chapter of American Domestic Terrorism
There’s a brooding, sinister quality to Justin Kurzel’s filmmaking, whose body of work almost always deals with, either directly or indirectly, the dangerous combination of bruised masculinity and/or wounded nationality entitling men to engage in violence. This was evident in his formidable breakout debut Snowtown (2011), about an Australian serial killer, and continued through his exploration of the mythic in The True History of the Kelly Gang (2019) before he turned to one of Australia’s most infamous incidents of mass shooting in Nitram (2021). Based on his interests, Kurzel seems a perfect fit for wading into the violence which defines and supports America’s belief systems, and soberingly does so in The Order. Based on the book The Silent Brotherhood by Kevin Flynn and Gary Gerhardt, it details a troubling situation across 1983-1984 in the Pacific Northwest where a radicalized group of Aryan nationalists began robbing banks as a means to grow an army to start a race war with the United States government.
Though this specific group may not be well known (with their vague moniker sounding akin to a spooky genre film, like the generic title of a 2003 Heath Ledger-led Michael Crichton adaptation), Kurzel examines the indoctrination and ritualistic behaviors leading to explosive patterns which have become not only common place but secured footing in the current political landscape in the USA. This film may be casting an eye at ignorance, hatred, and terror from the safe distance of the past, but what enhances the grotesqueness is how it still speaks to the present.
Jude Law is in fine, rugged form as troubled FBI agent Terry Husk, a man with a history of tracking the KKK and the Cosa Nostra, the latter which led to an investigation which nearly ruined him New York. He’s been looking to settle down, get his two daughters to come live with him in the quiet refuge of rural Idaho, but his attempted correspondence with them remains unanswered since his obsessive approach to his profession, along with other untoward behaviors, has eroded their relationship, perhaps irreparably. It’s not long before he stumbles onto evidence confirming local Deputy Jamie Bowen’s (Tye Sheridan) theory the rash of porn theater and synagogue bombings is attached to corresponding bank robberies in the area. Jamie believes the local chapter of an Aryan church led by Richard Butler (Victor Slezak) has something to do with it. Husk is dubious, until they discover the body of a missing member buried in the woods, a loudmouth who had told Jamie the group was printing counterfeit bills.
Husk requests and is assigned Joanne Carney (Jurnee Smollet) as a team lead for the FBI’s operation descending on the area. Slowly, they’re able to determine the group responsible is led by Bob Mathews (Nicholas Hoult), an angry, charismatic stray from Butler’s flock who was hungry for action. Their template for anarchy and insurrection is taken from a 1970s publication called The Turner Diaries, which outlines the path needed to succeed in successful domestic terrorism in America (as we’re told in the closing credits, it’s the same manifesto utilized in later acts of terror, including the Oklahoma City Bombing and the insurrection at the Capitol Building in January, 2021). Initially, the investigation is consistently one step behind, sometimes almost barely, as they gather information clueing them into bank robberies and a daring armored truck robbery where Mathews gets away with over three million in cash. But everyone has an Achilles’ heel, and Mathews underestimates the scorn brewing amongst the women in his life, including wife Debbie (Alison Oliver), disillusioned by his bullshit when he impregnates another woman, Zillah (Odessa Young), who provides hideout and refuge of stolen goods a la Thieves Like Us (1974).
Where Kurzel elevates his films from standard recuperations or procedural is through the effective use of violence as brutal and chilling. It’s a difficult feat in a world desensitized by such imagery. There are two such moments, including an opening scene where Mathews and co. annihilate one of their chatty crew members. But it’s through their murder of Alan Berg (a well-cast Marc Maron) as an outspoken Jewish radio talk show host, which is effectively shocking simply because Kurzel and screenwriter Zach Baylin to convey the significance of the life being lost. Of course, this tension and terror is aided by his usual composer (and brother) Jed Kurzel, who supplies an eerie score alongside DP Adam Arkapaw (who has worked with Kurzel on several productions), using the assumed tranquility of landscape against us, housing a terror network brewing and breeding via the toxic ignorance and hatred which feels more alive than ever.
While it may not be surprising and its outcome, even without knowledge of these people, inevitable, The Order unsettles enough to clang warning bells, even amidst the visual finesse of car chases and action sequences which culminates in the backwoods version of Heat (1995). There are some elements of the routine and cliche, particularly with Smollet and Sheridan’s characterizations, who have personal investments as a Black woman and the husband of a woman of color. It would have been interesting to allow them both to articulate their thoughts and emotions in a time and place where such dialogue was not encouraged. Instead, we only get to see Smollet lose control, and even while this allows for a cathartic sort of release (specifically when she gets to dig at Mathews’ wife, a ‘dumb Nazi bitch’), it also undermines a sense of her capability.
As in the stellar finale of his The True History of the Kelly Gang (2019), Kurzel knows how to re-contextualize our expectations of violence, and knows when it’s effective to be showcased or out of frame, as in Nitram (2021). Kurzel has also always been assisted by a certain coldness in his presentation, which allows this film to feel more troubling than something like the Daniel Radcliffe led Imperium (2016), about an FBI agent going undercover to infiltrate a similar group. At the end of the day, The Order‘s grimness remains intact beyond the credits, for there is no resolution in this new world disorder.
Reviewed on August 31st at the 2024 Venice Film Festival (81st edition) – In Competition section. 116 Mins.
★★★/☆☆☆☆☆
