The Sis­ters Broth­ers – first look review

Jacques Audi­ard wouldn’t be the like­ly can­di­date to adapt a Cana­di­an nov­el about mer­ce­nary cow­boy broth­ers dur­ing the Cal­i­for­nia Gold Rush. Hav­ing made his name with decid­ed­ly more po-faced fare, includ­ing Rust and Bone and Dheep­an, the sub­ject mat­ter of his Eng­lish-lan­guage debut seems – at least at first glance – con­sid­er­ably lighter.

The tit­u­lar Sis­ters Broth­ers are Eli and Char­lie, played by the inim­itable duo of John C Reil­ly and Joaquin Phoenix, whose easy chem­istry sees them bick­er and brawl their way across the plains in pur­suit of detec­tive John Mor­ris (Jake Gyl­len­haal) and chemist Her­man Ker­mit Warm (Riz Ahmed). Although the stage is set for a gun­sling­ing romp through the Old West, there’s much more at stake for Eli and Char­lie than col­lect­ing a pay­cheque from their mys­te­ri­ous employ­er, The Com­modore (Rut­ger Hauer).

Through half-con­ver­sa­tions and one mem­o­rable dream, we learn that Eli and Char­lie are on the run as much as they’re lead­ing the chase. Their rela­tion­ship comes under repeat­ed strain due to Charlie’s destruc­tive, unpre­dictable nature and Eli’s desire to get out of the out­law game for good. Mean­while a blos­som­ing friend­ship between would-be adver­saries Mor­ris and Warm sees them dis­cuss the pos­si­bil­i­ty of an Amer­i­can social­ist state, and try­ing to find mean­ing at a time where gold and greed rule the hearts of most men.

In fact, for a film with a fair­ly high body count, there’s a ten­der­ness to the film which sees our pro­tag­o­nists at their best when they’re sim­ply learn­ing to live in peace with one anoth­er. The broth­ers them­selves are far from per­fect – vom­it-stained and stuck in their ways, the scars of the past prove hard to escape from, but the soft­er parts of Eli, Char­lie, John and Her­mann are what make them com­pelling to watch.

There’s a deep yearn­ing for sta­bil­i­ty and high­er pur­pose with­in all the men which sits at odds with the world in which they live, and despite the sul­fur that lingers in the air as the bul­lets begin to fly, it’s Audiard’s gift for show­ing how trau­ma shapes a per­son that ele­vates The Sis­ters Broth­ers from enter­tain­ing romp into a charm­ing, warm-heart­ed bal­lad about cama­raderie and communication.