Tequila Sunrise has a lot working against it.
In particular, a complex and confusing plot and some artistically interesting, but morally troubling, notions.
In spite of all this, though, it's a well-crafted movie. And it provides an admirable showcase for its three charismatic stars. They make up a fascinating romantic triangle and their fans, for sure, won't want to miss it.
One of the things that makes Tequila Sunrise confusing is that it jumps into the middle of a story. We're asked to remember characters and what they're doing before we have any idea who they are. But after the first 10 minutes or so this bare outline emerges:
Mac (Gibson) is a very successful drug dealer (middle-management level) in the L.A. area. A high school buddy of his, Nick (Russell) has just been made head of narcotics enforcement for the city. Mac says he's looking to retire into legitimate avocado farming, but you know how far you can believe drug pushers.
Or do you? Tequila Sunrise reverses our usual expectations of its characters. Mac, whose profession we're all conditioned to revile, is the movie's most sympathetic character. Nick, the "good guy," we're never quite sure of.
This uncertainty extends throughout the cast. Take Jo Ann (Pfeiffer), the cool, beautiful restauranteur. Is her chic eatery a cover for nefarious dealings, or is she as honest as she seems?
Raul Julia, who seems to have fun playing a Mexican police official, is also under suspicion. So is the sourpuss federal cop (J.T. Walsh), Mac's cousin (Arliss Howard), and just about everybody else.
All this insecurity and ambivalence about the characters makes for absorbing viewing. But when it's all over, some viewers may object to the movie's manipulation of their sensibilities.
January 4, 1989
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