DRAGGED ACROSS CONCRETE: The Hypnotic Action Thriller

A single line from S. Craig Zahler’s film puts him in the crosshairs of “snowflakes,” meaning people who fly into a rage whenever the rigid framework of political correctness is breached. One of the characters, a nearing-sixty police officer played by Mel Gibson, listens to his wife’s complaints. “I was never a racist until I moved into this neighborhood,” she laments. Taking this statement out of context, however, could do significant damage to the assessment of the dark thriller Dragged Across Concrete, as the film precisely examines the ambiguities of what we see outside our windows or in the media. Black or white, rich or poor, idealists or scumbags—everyone in this film suffers the same blows from fate. Race and background mean nothing when the economy has you pressed against a rough wall, and as the final act proves, a lack of communication leads to disaster.

Officer Brett has had enough of living in a neighborhood where his daughter is harassed daily on her way home from school. When he and his partner Tony are suspended due to unjustified brutality, the last straw breaks, and their empty pockets start to burn even more. The two men plan to steal from thieves to secure their well-earned retirement—not exactly Robin Hoods, but they aim to avoid bloodshed and unnecessary complications. Meanwhile, an African American man named Henry is released from prison, determined to find a way to support his family. His brother is wheelchair-bound, and their mother has resorted to prostitution for money. At the start of this dense story, the cards are dealt in such a way that we root for both sides, because looming over them all is something even greater—a sinister shadow of highly dangerous forces.

It must be said that S. Craig Zahler gives voice to all sides of the conflict, including minor characters. He even goes a step further—his racist protagonists turn out to be unlikable yet not truly racist, while the black ex-convict, brutalized by the system, holds no grudge against those he would be expected to hate. This subversion isn’t just meant to make us sympathize with the characters but also to reveal them as full-spectrum human beings, with all their flaws, greatness, and internal struggles. The film’s themes are delivered subtly, following the principle of “show, don’t tell,” which is one of its strongest aspects. Paradoxically, the so-called slow cinema style never lets us forget that we are still watching a full-blooded action film. There’s something remarkable about this slowness—it carefully poses questions before hitting the viewer over the head with meaty shootout sequences or the most visceral bank robbery in film history. Everything that happens here bears the marks of real-life chaos—we cannot predict how an action scene will end because the characters’ choices are dictated by ever-changing circumstances. That doesn’t mean they are clueless, though. On the contrary, no one in this film behaves irrationally, and trigger discipline is respected, unlike in mass-produced action flicks.

Even in Bone Tomahawk, Zahler’s remarkable debut, his fascination with a mysterious, excessively brutal evil was evident—evil that can be defeated, but only through cunning and a willingness to cross moral boundaries. The family dynamics of Henry and Brett serve as two sides of the same coin; both men react to their environment in similar ways, with the differences lying in the details. They are connected by two things—their desire for social mobility and a strong moral backbone, which adds dramatic weight to the story. A significant part of this comes from Mel Gibson, who, alongside Vince Vaughn, creates one of the most compelling cop duos in cinematic history. The choice of the Australian actor, given his public persona, is another directorial subversion. So don’t expect Lethal Weapon-style banter and buddy-cop humor. Their bond is built on years of experience and an unspoken code of honor; their friendship manifests in relaxed conversation rather than excessive closeness. Tory Kittles, playing the ex-convict desperate to protect his family and his last shreds of dignity, is also excellent—an understated yet highly natural performance. Supporting roles feature memorable (though brief) appearances from Don Johnson and Jennifer Carpenter.

It’s easy to overlook the strengths of this film due to ideological biases, but that would be a shallow reading that misses what the director truly aims to convey. Contrary to initial impressions, the film presents a complex world where the worst atrocities are committed by white men just as often, and the most powerful force in its narrative is ultimately humanity—unexpected but essential for the tormented souls of these flesh-and-blood characters. Over its 161-minute runtime, the film may make you uncomfortable in your seat, especially if you’re not used to slow storytelling. But Zahler never set out to make comfortable art. Quite the opposite—his goal was to make it hypnotic and dangerous.