Sorcerer ★★★★★

Four lost souls, three boxes each, two ancient trucks, one impossible mission.

Lazaro, a quiet serpent with glowing eyes and the other a horned, nameless beast with teeth laid bare, barreling up Sisyphean terrain. Both creatures on a suicide mission to appease a mad God of man's creation, whose fury manifests in what seems an eternal pillar of fire, burning bright as the Paris city lights.

Men made boys - a thief, a banker, a rebel, and a wildcard - reduced to beggars in backwoods Nicaragua and forced to boy scout their way to an end. Playing with fire, whether meant literally or figuratively, would be a welcome task compared to what they each individually and collectively face. All in service of money, mobility, maybe even manhood, but home is a far-off and foreign ideal only spoken of by those "loco" enough to acknowledge it. Which direction? None, all, same.

Friedkin's poetic, harrowing film willfully bares its soul. Here's mine in return.

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