Jeremy Saulnier is my favourite contemporary director, who has been flying under the radar for a while now. He has an unmistakable, minimalist aesthetic and an understated sense of humour, not unlike the Coen Brothers, and has made a career directing quietly brilliant genre films that almost immediately become cult classics, largely because not enough people go to see them!

That seems set to change now though, with the release of Rebel Ridge, his first film for six years. Appropriately for Saulnier, it was dropped on Netflix with little fanfare but it’s already picked up a lot of attention. It’s simultaneously a continuation of the style of his previous work and a notable departure in tone. His films are generally typified by sparse dialogue, economic storytelling and a pitch black streak of humour, and all of these are present here, but along with this is a more conventional, less cynical story, and a more traditional hero. It’s an adjustment, but a welcome corrective after the overly nihilistic tone of Hold The Dark.

Saulnier wastes no time in getting the story rolling – Terry Richmond (Aaron Pierre) is en route to bail his cousin out of jail when he is unceremoniously knocked off his bike and detained by two police officers (David Denman and Emory Cohen) who confiscate his bail money. It’s an encounter that triggers a series of increasingly tense stand-offs between Richmond and the local law enforcement – led by the inflexible chief Sandy Burnne (Don Johnson) – as he uncovers evidence of a deeper corruption, leading to a climactic showdown.

Saulnier has an incredibly sparse, economic way of storytelling, and this continues here, albeit in service of a more mainstream story. Like a more esoteric, cerebral Walter Hill, with similarly punchy, direct dialogue. Unlike Hill though, Saulnier tends not to mythologize his heroes. The leads in his previous films are woefully inept at keeping themselves alive. Like the protagonists in Blue Ruin and Green Room, Terry is a reluctant hero, forced into this situation by events out of his control. However, while the others are completely out of their element, Terry is uniquely suited to this kind of situation, and fatally underestimated by the corrupt lawmen (The line “I think he’s on the Wikipedia page!” is a perfect, succinct way to sum up Terry’s credentials). It’s a neat spin on something like First Blood, as Terry manages to outsmart, outmanoeuvre and outfight the entire local police department, but without killing anyone – although that doesn’t mean the film is sanitized. Saulnier’s trademark visceral violence is still present in some truly brutal fight scenes. Propelled by a righteous sense of injustice, Terry isn’t as volatile or traumatised as Rambo, and initially he is prepared to jump through all the hoops presented to him so long as he can get his cousin out of prison. However, when he is confronted with the obstinacy of Burnne, he is fully prepared to deal with the fallout. You can pinpoint the exact moment he decides to choose violence, when he explains the PACE acronym, and it’s a beautifully observed scene.

Green Room was a powder keg of a film, with the protagonists trapped in one tiny room. Rebel Ridge is no less claustrophobic, but here Terry finds himself confined in the bureaucracy of the corrupt local legal system, that hampers him to the point where his only real option is breaking the law. Who knew there could be so much suspense and intrigue to be drawn out of civil forfeiture? Terry knows that if he ends up killing a cop then his options decrease to zero, so the tension doesn’t just arise from whether or not he will survive the film, but whether he will be able to do so while keeping his own hands clean.

It’s interesting that Aaron Pierre was only cast as a last minute replacement for John Boyega, because Pierre seems ideally suited to the role, and by the end of the film it’s hard to imagine anyone but him as the lead. He is an imposing physical presence but even more effective in the quieter scenes, where you can see both the self-disciplined, regimented side of his character and his barely controlled rage as the situation escalates. He’s self-assured and measured, but crucially he’s also thoughtful and likeable. He never comes across as cocky or arrogant, which prevents the film from lapsing into the smug, Alpha-male, Reacher territory.

On the opposing side, Don Johnson makes a great villain, obstinate, bull-headed and yet very funny. What makes him such an interesting villain is that on the surface he appears to be full of the same bluster as in his characters in Knives Out and Django Unchained, and he almost seems reasonable at times, but it’s revealed that he’s a lot more calculating than he initially appears. Johnson has mastered that scummy kind of villainy that’s masked by a veneer of good humour and bonhomie, but whose sneering prejudice is never far from the surface. It’s his best performance in years.

AnnaSophia Robb is another revelation as the idealistic junior courthouse official whose conscience gets her in over her head. It’s initially a fairly thankless role as she seems to exist mainly as an exposition dump, (albeit one with an immediate and easy chemistry with Pierre) but she quickly emerges as a character with agency of her own and layers that are gradually revealed.

Where the film loses some of its potency is in the revelation that there is a deeper corruption going on than the inherent racism of the cops. There is a real sense of injustice and danger in the early scenes, where the cop’s prejudice is left unspoken, but the atmosphere is thick with tension. It’s not a film about racism, but it’s ever present nonetheless. The fact that Terry was stopped because he is black is heavily implied but never made overt, lying just beneath the surface of his interactions with the local cops. There’s a righteous anger in Pierre’s performance, but when it’s revealed that there is an actual criminal conspiracy going on, it weirdly feels a bit like the film is letting the villains off the hook. Rather than a statement on how people of colour are stopped more frequently by police, the film turns into a more palatable tale of how *these specific* cops do that because they’re up to no good. The finale as well is a little tame, and feels like it’s overcompensating with a kind of “not *all* cops” statement.

That’s just one nitpick, as for the most part Saulnier directs with subtlety and an admirable level of restraint. It has the fatalism of Blue Ruin and the unrelenting tension of Green Room, but altogether a more upbeat film, with a very dry sense of humour running through it, albeit with some bleak moments. There’s some breathtaking stunts in it, and Saulnier’s direction is typically subtle and considered, with some quietly impressive camerawork. He’s a methodical director, and while some might balk at the relative slow pace compared to the trailer, I loved the slow build of tension as the stakes are raised and the conflict escalates to that final set-piece.

Rebel Ridge is just about the most gripping, tightly plotted action thriller of the year. It’s not as ruthless or bleak as we’ve come to expect from Saulnier, but what it lacks in bite it more than makes up for with breathtaking action sequences. More conventional than his previous work but no less engaging for that, Rebel Ridge is a lean, muscular thriller with a genuine star-making performance from Aaron Pierre. It is crazy that someone decided that this didn’t warrant a theatrical release.

Rebel Ridge is on Netflix now