Fun
Frisky
Nostalgic
Intense
Adventurous
Choked Up
Curious
Romantic
Weird
New-to-Netflix movie Close Enemies pairs two simmering grimsters, Matthias Schoenaerts and Reda Kateb, for a gritty crime thriller set on the mean streets of Paris. Schoenaerts we know from the likes of A Bigger Splash, The Danish Girl and Red Sparrow, while Kateb is better known as a standout character actor in numerous French productions, and for playing the lead in a Django Reinhardt biopic. And it’s upon them that Close Enemies hinges — can they help this complicated undercover-cops-and-drug-dealers movie transcend its genre tropes?
CLOSE ENEMIES: STREAM IT OR SKIP IT?
The Gist: Manuel (Schoenaerts) and Imrane (Adel Bencherif) are old friends from the Parisian projects. They’ve remained tight for years; Manuel’s son kicks around the soccer ball with Imrane; Manuel tells Imrane’s teenage boy to stop growing so much. They’re partners in business too — the business of moving cocaine. It’s a precarious way to make a living, but it’s a living, and right in line with the expectations of their lesser-privileged upbringing.
There was a third friend from back in the day, and he diverted from the norm by becoming a cop. Driss (Kateb) is a narcotics detective, put in the position because he knows the ‘hood and the faces within it. Unbeknownst to Manuel, Imrane is Driss’ secret snitch. The dealers have a major exchange of powder and cash in the works. Imrane is feeding information to Driss, who wants to bust the buyer. It goes upside down right quick. They’re ambushed. Imrane is gunned down, dead. And Manuel is on the run.
This isn’t good news for Driss, who has to break the news to Imrane’s wife and kids, and wonders if his sting operation is exposed. He reconnects with Manuel. They share information, but only a few crumbs at a time. Both want to suss out the perpetrator of Imrane’s murder, although to different ends. Will this end in blood? Scratch that — it seems inevitable that this will end in blood, because that’s how things like this tend to end.
What Movies Will It Remind You Of?: This film genuflects at the hem of dozens of tangled subterfuge thrillers before it: The Departed, We Own the Night, Narc, Deep Cover, et al etc. and all those, where fraternity is complicated by crime and cops, et al etc. and all that.
Performance Worth Watching: When Schoenaerts and Kateb share the screen, they exhibit the type of chemistry betraying how the movie might be better if they were in the same frame more often. Kateb shows a smidgen more of his character’s inner life, but the script ultimately lacks the ambition to tackle why the ties that bind people are vital, and sometimes must be broken.
Memorable Dialogue: This is such a boilerplate script, the things the characters say are all nuts spinning onto bolts with little style or fanfare.
Sex and Skin: None.
Our Take: This screenplay is like a small intestine: convoluted and ugly. It twists and turns and does what it has to do, and it’s rarely pretty. But it is functional, and director David Oelhoffen stretches tight the bungee-cord of suspense in a few well-staged and -executed sequences. Is that enough? Sometimes. But his M.O. is so workmanlike, and the story so mundane, it never becomes more than the sum of its parts.
One development here is thoughtful — Driss chose the right side of the law, and suffers for it. He’s frequently alone, he has prickly exchanges with his co-workers (he’s just from the projects, you know) and, in one tough scene, his own parents reject him for fear of being ostracized by their community. Close Enemies has the potential for richer context (the Moroccan immigrant community accepts Manuel as one of their own) and a deeper exploration of the irony of Driss’ life, but mostly just wants to mechanically proceed through the plot to its inexorable conclusion.
Our Call: SKIP IT. Watching Close Enemies is like riding the bus: You get on, go down the road, you get off. Most days, the bus doesn’t break down or deviate from its route. It’s a ruthlessly pragmatic experience. This is a long way of saying the movie is perfectly fine, and kind of boring.
John Serba is a freelance writer and film critic based in Grand Rapids, Michigan. Read more of his work at johnserbaatlarge.com or follow him on Twitter: @johnserba.
