There’s nothing holy about this unrepentant ‘Trinity’
I don’t think it’s what the title meant to convey, but “The Unholy Trinity” certainly hits the trifecta of poor writing, mediocre direction and emotive acting. And those are its assets. The rest is just, well, pathetic. I’m looking at you, Samuel L. Jackson and Pierce Brosnan. Why cheapen your legacies on something as empty and generic as this cliched Western about a father, son and hole-y script?
I assume it was the lure of “all evil,” money. Or, in this case, gold – hundreds of thousands of dollars of it, buried … Yes, where in the town of Trinity is the fortune interned? That’s the impetus for Jackson’s Saint Christopher, ironically possessing none of the patron saint’s benevolent attributes, as he removes reverend (David Arquette) and dirt to locate the elusive loot.
The key, he believes, is the hapless greenhorn, Henry Broadway (Brendon Lessard), the son of Isaac Broadway (Tim Daly), the Union soldier who pilfered the bullion from the fallen Confederacy and lugged it from Georgia to Montana for safekeeping. Alas, poor Isaac takes his secret to the grave after ending up on the wrong end of a noose. But before he meets his maker, he implores Henry to kill the man who framed him for the one crime he didn’t commit. That, natch, would be Saint Christopher. Busy man, that Saint Christopher. And he’s about to get much busier now that Henry has ridden into Trinity.
The presence of these two bedeviled strangers doesn’t please the town’s geriatric sheriff, Gabriel Dove (Brosnan), a transplanted Irishman equally curious about that pot of gold. Legend has it that it’s buried beneath the house he shares with his gorgeous trophy wife, Sarah (Veronica Ferres), and the young daughter (Eadie Gray) of a town pump (Katrina Bowden) they’ve charitably taken in. If that wasn’t enough of a headache, Gabe is also attempting to protect an indigenous woman improbably named Running Club (Q’orianka Kilcher), with no apparent ties to the Boston Athletic Association, still a solid decade from being formed in 1887.
The town’s resident crank, Gideon (Gianni Capaldi), is convinced Running Club is guilty of murder, but Gabriel (What’s with all the biblical names?) thinks not and has sworn to protect her, no matter what. Confused? You’re not alone. Lee Zacharian could not have written a more convoluted script if he tried.
The thing is all over the place, with subplot upon subplot tossed in, apparently because he ran short of ideas on how best to flesh out Henry’s half-hearted stab at exacting an eye for an eye from Saint Christopher. Oops, I almost omitted the half-dozen scuzzy brothers also looking to squelch Henry’s stay on Earth after he accidentally kills one of the sibs. What?
No wonder Zacharian’s fellow Aussie, director Richard Gray, has such a hard time juggling all these balls. There are simply too many characters and story arcs to shoehorn into one 95-minute movie. It might have been pardonable if the pacing weren’t so sluggish and predictable. You can’t reach the end of this nonsense fast enough. Heck, even Job would lose his patience. But at least the film facilitates a bit of nepotism on Brosnan’s part, as sons Paris and Dylan get their acting feet wet in minor roles. Blink and you’ll miss them. But I think I’m safe in saying you won’t miss “The Unholy Trinity,” a prime example of motion picture blasphemy if there ever was one.
Movie review
The Unholy Trinity
Rated: R for language, violence and some sexual material
Cast: Pierce Brosnan, Samuel L. Jackson, Brendon Lessard, Veronica Ferres, Gianni Capaldi, Q’orianka Kilcher, Katrina Bowden and Tim Daly
Director: Richard Gray
Writer: Lee Zachariah
Runtime: 95 minutes
Where: In theaters June 13
Grade: D
