Bring Them Down Review

As long as there have been tales of revenge, there have been warnings about its tendency to consume its practitioners. For every satisfying story of vanquishing one’s enemies, a counterpoint exists that focuses on the harm it does to the righteous, complicating their catharsis. But recently, we’ve seen more tales in which it goes so awry that success is only sad and pathetic, if the wronged succeeds at all. Some of which are amongst my favorite films as of late: Pig, Femme, Strange Darling, and The Man Who Killed Hitler, and Then the Bigfoot all come to mind. Bring Them Down is the first worthy version of that story in 2025.

As with many such films, Bring Them Down is a quiet, contemplative piece, relying on the threat of violence more than its execution. Of course, this makes the moments of brutality that do occur that much more visceral. Shepherd Michael O’Shea (Christopher Abbott) isn’t exactly an intimidating guy. Despite his righteous fury at Gary and Jack (Paul Ready and Barry Keoghan) for stealing two of his prized rams, he’s unwilling to follow through on his aggressive overtures and backs down from confrontation just before passing the point of no return. As we see in the opening scene, an incident from his past that hangs over the entire film like a thick fog, Michael is no fan of conflict. So confronted with the wild look in Gary’s eyes at the suggestion he should return the rams, Michael walks away and hides the run-in from his bastard of a father Ray (Colm Meaney).

The whole time, there’s a sense that something messier is going on. From Gary’s initial confusion to the disturbing reports of rustlers cutting the legs off sheep, director Christopher Andrews wants you to be suspicious of events from Michael’s viewpoint. He drops enough hints for you to suss out the truth before too long, making it clear that isn’t his primary concern. Rather, he’s interested in how people behave when they’re backed into the corner by their lives, forced to take drastic measures to ensure their own survival. Michael is already down when the rustlers come: what’s a man like him to do when he’s got nothing left?

This is a familiar setup and thematic concern. Abbott’s performance in particular ensures every slight hits us in our soul, and makes us consider our own reaction in the situation. The helplessness, the isolation, and the despair all elicit empathy. Unfortunately, while these ideas are set before you to mull over, none are explored quite as deeply as you might want.

But Andrews has another trick to pull. As constructed, we’re made to understand Gary and Jack as villains, acting without reason except to get one over on the O’Sheas. So right at the moment Michael crosses the Rubicon, as he commits to seeking retribution for the wrongs done to him and his family, the perspective shifts.

The story resets, and we experience these couple of days as Jack did, starting just before Michael’s rams went missing. Almost immediately, the complicated dynamics in his family become clear as we learn more about the relationships between Jack, his father Gary, his mother Caroline (Nora-Jane Noone), and his cousin Lee (Aaron Heffernan). Slowly, as we build up a more complete picture of what’s driving everyone, the core theme of the movie shifts. It’s not really about revenge or pride or jealousy after all. It’s about holding so tightly to the ones you love that you will go to great lengths to protect them. So tightly that you take drastic measures without considering if they’re interested in your help, or what the consequences of your actions will be.

It’s here that Keoghan finally gets to stretch his legs. He’s such a delightful element of anarchy whether as a lead (Saltburn) or in a supporting role (Bird), so you spend much of the first chunk waiting for Jack to step up. Sure enough, centering his viewpoint allows Keoghan to work his magic. Jack is a more internal character than we’re used to from Keoghan. But he maintains the atmosphere of quiet plotting and reckless impulsiveness that makes him a powder keg, while also convincingly playing a scared kid. When the plot lines entangle late in the film, he and Abbott share just about every scene, and the combination of their energies is exhilarating while remaining fairly quiet.

My focus on the screenplay and acting is not to imply the craftsmanship is lacking. Cinematographer Nick Cooke saves most of his flourishes for gorgeous shots on the mountain, highlighting both the natural beauty of the area and just how alone they are out there. However, there is a wonderful set piece that takes place in the dead of night, with characters mostly identified by small lights which once again isolate them against a sea of inky black. Meanwhile, Hannah Peel’s score is deceptively simple, mostly focused on sharp drumbeats and thrumming bass, gradually building into a complex and layered backdrop that keeps your anxiety high. Appropriately, it reaches a fever pitch as the threads twist together and hobble towards something that resembles a conclusion.

While lacking some of the dramatic heft of similar explorations, Bring Them Down is an excellent and engaging thriller from start to finish. Although neither Keoghan nor Abbott are at their best here, they both come to play, which pays dividends as the plot walks briskly towards its finale. The disparate ideas crash together, not perfectly but well enough that their synthesis is satisfying, although the story (intentionally) is not. This is Christopher Andrews’ debut feature, and while it’s unlikely to set the world on fire, I hope to see his work again soon.