Film Review: The Bluff

Directed by: Frank E. Flowers; Runtime: 103 minutes
Grade: B-

Ever since the silent film era started adapting literature’s great swashbuckling novels, embarking on high-seas adventures with legendary pirates has continued to be peak cinematic escapism, be it grandiose battles on fully-manned ships or sweaty, stealthy pursuits for treasure through tropical islands. Recently, the successful but fallen-off Pirates of the Caribbean franchise has left the subgenre mostly quiet in its absence for a decade, and while the eager can revisit the cinema of the past with Errol Flynn’s escapades -- please watch Captain Blood and Sea Hawk -- or discover the historically adjacent action-drama series Black Sails, the thirst has grown for something new from the realm of weatherworn, morally-fluid men and women of the sea. In comes Amazon’s The Bluff, arriving to shore with the ambition that gritty skirmishes, character gravitas and a fistful of contemporary twists will lead it across a familiar map to excitement. There might not be a hidden gem at the end of this straight-to-stream pirate jaunt, but there’s more than enough sentiment and swagger behind the swordplay to revel in the escapade.

The Bluff transports us to the Caribbean in the mid-1800s, to a remote island in the Caymans harboring a small township living in seclusion. A Caribbean native, Ercell (Priyanka Chopra), has cultivated a peaceful life with her sister and handicapped son, awaiting the return of her ship captain husband from a significantly overlong trip. That is, until a cluster of boats carrying intimidating raiders rush up to shore, led by the gristly and graying Captain Connor (Karl Urban). The outfit’s objective becomes clear: an old shipmate of theirs has been hiding valuable cargo, and they’re here to collect by any means necessary. The pirates announce their arrival with violence, and at that point Ercell forces herself to flip a switch and transform into who she once was for the sake of protecting her family. In steps Bloody Mary, once a trained and violent swashbuckler who sailed with Captain Connor, armed with knowledge of combat, explosives, and traps that’ll complicate matters for the invaders.

Written by Joe Ballarini and director Frank E. Flowers with genuine historical texture in mind, the story has an unmistakable air of familiarity to it, fueled by the unretired professional killer movies of the modern era such as Kill Bill or John Wick with homages to modern and classic swashbuckling cinema of lore. When it’s shot on location in the Cayman Islands like this for atmosphere, that familiarity matters far less as the vintage moving parts of the classic pirate’s tale take shape around Chopra’s heroine, and it quickly gets the pulse going in The Bluff. Too often in these stories, women are either relegated to damsels in distress or curated into a passable, shielded member of a pirate’s crew, whereas Ercell’s backstory forms into a credible and bleak origin for her skills as a notorious buccaneer and a willingness to murder in protection of her family. From the jump, Chopra comes ready to be convincing as that dashing hero with a transformative past, and the film’s energy burns brighter once she reveals what she’s been hiding from her family.

What I’m still wrapping my head around with The Bluff is how the primary characters default to dramatic comfort zones for their roguish personas, and whether that’s distracting or the right kind of satisfying for a character-driven outing like this. Chopra channels her passionate, yet wise and mature baseline attitude into a grim, fiery vessel for Emcell without fussing over giving her unique ticks or tells, and for the story being told -- and what Bloody Mary has survived -- that’s justifiable. Karl Urban, on the other side of the coin, has a more complex issue going on: his gravelly British accent, narrow smoldering glances and general coat-slinging swagger work like a salacious twist on Butcher from the popular series The Boys. And y’know, seeing Butcher-Urban slide along the scale of morality while surrounded by only the “superpowers” of learned sword combat and steady-aimed firearms can be inherently entertaining, stock delivery or not. When you combine them with their characters’ long unseen history of piracy together, Urban and Chopra in these identifiable states generate the right energy of fire and fury, allowing charisma to sweep us into the flow of action.

Those expecting prolonged fencing battles with clanging blades and measured footwork will be disappointed with The Bluff, as it eschews that sort of pageantry for shorter, wider sabers and hidden daggers designed for quick work during battle when explosives and pistols don’t do the trick. Mixed with martial-arts maneuvers and some good old dirty brawling, the action begins with blood and grit and doesn’t let up the deeper it goes into the island, choreographed with abrupt violence in mind as it precariously walks the tightrope of realism with what Bloody Mary’s able to do and endure. Fights break out in tight spaces from complex angles, whether it’s arid Caribbean homes or dense jungles and dusty caverns, with the cinematography respecting the little details of their geography when the chaos becomes too much for the space. Bloody Mary’s allowed to kick ass, and I’m here for it, from acrobatic chokes to munitions explosions.

After a ravishing climax that pulls all its strengths together into, yet again, something foreseeable yet rousing for its conclusion, The Bluff reaches an interesting destination: it isn’t the kind of sweeping success that begs for big-screen attention with what it accomplishes, but it’s also executed far, far better than other streaming-only or direct-to-video pics, especially in how it stays focused on to-the-ground swashbuckling during an era of genre regrowth. In the absence of blockbuster scale and stakes, there’s the exhilaration of cheering on Bloody Mary’s maternal instincts as she reaches deeper in her bag of tricks to safeguard her family with the tools that she’s got, and every detonation or takedown or swing of the blade marks another taste of of the genre with purpose. That’s why The Bluff succeeds at being adequate and frequently enjoyable pirate escapism, likely not a journey you’ll revisit but one worth admiring for the gusto in how it revives the genre’s sights and sounds.