Review: In 'Triple Frontier,' a special-ops heist goes awry

Job opportunities seldom diverge as greatly as they do for the former special forces operatives of J.C. Chandor's "Triple Frontier." There is selling condos or taking contract work in an African warzone. There's stocking shelves at Walmart or taking down a South African drug lord. And you thought your LinkedIn profile had inconsistencies.

Yet those are exactly the kinds of choices facing a quartet of ex-military veterans who are rounded up, "Blues Brothers"-style, by Santiago "Pope" Garcia (Oscar Isaac), their former brother in arms who now works for a mysterious company contracted vaguely by "a foreign government."

With the promise of that old temptation — "one last job" — and the potential for a major payday, Garcia gathers each old pal — Tom "Redfly" Davis (Ben Affleck), William "Ironhead" Miller (Charlie Hunnam), Ben Miller (Garrett Hedlund) and Francisco "Catfish" Morales (Pedro Pascal) — with little trouble. Once at the pinnacle of their profession, they're all struggling to adapt to civilian life. Davis is a divorced, heavy-drinking real estate broker with little talent for it. Miller is getting his face kicked in as a cage fighter.

This image released by Netflix shows Ben Affleck, from left, Oscar Isaac, Charlie Hunnam, Garrett Hedlund, and Pedro Pascal in a scene from the film, "Triple Frontier." (Melinda Sue GordonNetflix via AP)

"I say we deserve better," Garcia tells Davis. "You've been shot five times for your country and you can't pay off your truck."

"Triple Frontier," a Netflix release playing in theaters for a week before streaming, was first scripted by Mark Boal with plans for Kathryn Bigelow to direct. Both remain executive producers and Boal is a co-writer alongside Chandor.

That "Triple Frontier" originated from the team behind "The Hurt Locker" and "Zero Dark Thirty" isn't surprising. It's similarly attuned to the under-rewarded sacrifice of elite American soldiers. But it's also a larger leap into genre. Bountiful in dudes, guns and action scenes, "Triple Frontier" is the kind of proudly macho movie that's perhaps too familiar to moviegoers — though such a starry, big-budget thriller is more novel for Netflix.

This image released by Netflix shows Ben Affleck in a scene from the film, "Triple Frontier." (Netflix via AP)

"Triple Frontier" is both more and less than what it seems. The crew heads south to an unspecified country in South America (the title refers to the junction of Brazil, Argentina and Paraguay) where they plot, with the help of an insider (Adria Arjona), to take down a long-elusive drug lord named Lorea at his jungle hideaway and make off with millions.

But "Triple Frontier" is only part heist movie. Its second half, a militaristic riff on "The Treasure of Sierra Madre," tailspins into a existential, survivalist thriller about greed and combat addiction. For many of the guys, especially Affleck's Redfly, being drawn back into the field is like relapsing. Trigger fingers again get itchy, to tragic ends.

Almost as soon as the mission — more ragtag than what they signed up for — gets started, regret begins to creep in. Launched with a mix of altruistic and capitalistic intentions, the expedition begins to mirror other American international overreaches, and, not unlike in Afghanistan or Iraq, the former soldiers find themselves leaving stacks of cash to compensate for the deaths of villagers. Things turn dark and in a frantic escape over the Andes, the value of money plummets.

This image released by Netflix, shows Garrett Hedlund in a scene from the film, "Triple Frontier." (Melinda Sue GordonNetflix via AP)

Allegories of capitalism have proven a passion for Chandor, who has made money an ever-present subtext in crime dramas ("A Most Violent Year," with Isaac as an ambitious heating-oil businessman) and survival tales ("All Is Lost"). His debut, "Margin Call," was about a Wall Street investment bank in the tumult of a financial crisis.

With each film, Chandor's scale has expanded, and part of the thrill of "Triple Frontier" is the finely staged set pieces (including Garcia's opening siege of a discoteca) and the lush, wide-screen cinematography (via Roman Vasyanov). The balance of pulp and parable feels tenuously close to syncing, but never quite does.

Part of the problem is that the five guys (probably a few too many dudes, if we're counting) — and every one of the Spanish-speaking locals — are too thinly sketched. Affleck draws the Bogart card from the "Sierra Madre" types, but the rest — talented as they are — don't come through clearly. Only Isaac, with remorse creeping over his face, leaves a mark.

This image released by Netflix shows Garrett Hedlund, from left, Oscar Isaac, Ben Affleck, Charlie Hunnam, and Pedro Pascal in a scene from the film, "Triple Frontier." (Melinda Sue GordonNetflix via AP)

"Triple Frontier" has the good sense to take a macho, "Expendables"-like set-up and turn it inward. It just doesn't go far enough.

"Triple Frontier," a Netflix release, is rated R by the Motion Picture Association of America for "violence and language throughout." Running time: 125 minutes. Two and a half stars out of four.

MPAA definition of R: Restricted. Under 17 requires accompanying parent or adult guardian.

This image released by Netflix shows Adria Arjona, left, and Oscar Isaac in a scene from the film, "Triple Frontier." (Melinda Sue GordonNetflix via AP)

Follow AP Film Writer Jake Coyle on Twitter at: http://twitter.com/jakecoyleAP

ST. LOUIS (AP) — Maxim Naumov returned to the U.S. Figure Skating Championships on Thursday night, the final place that his parents watched him compete, and managed to hold his emotions in check until a standing ovation carried the 24-year-old right off the ice.

Once in the kiss-and-cry area, Naumov finally allowed tears to trickle down his cheeks.

It was less than a year ago that his parents, former world champions Vadim Naumov and Evgenia Shishkova, died when their plane crashed into a military helicopter on approach to Washington, D.C., and fell into the icy Potomac River. A total of 67 people were killed, including more than two dozen returning from a development camp following the U.S. championships in Wichita, Kansas.

Many were young skaters, taught by the elder Naumov and Shishkova, who looked up to their son.

“It's all about being resilient,” Naumov said later, when asked how he made it through such an emotional return to nationals. "That's the feeling and mentality I've clung to this entire season. And I find in times of really difficult emotional stress, if you can just push yourself a little bit more, and almost think, ‘What if? What if I can do it? What if, despite everything that happened to me, I can go out and do it?’

“And that,” Naumov said, “is where you find strength, and that's where you grow as a person.”

Naumov brought an old photograph with him to the kiss-and-cry area Thursday night. It showed him perhaps 3 years old, his parents by his side, stepping onto the ice in white skates for the first time at the International Skating Center of Connecticut.

“They didn't have black skates in my size at the time,” he said, "but that's OK. I was just happy to be on the ice.”

One of the last conversations Naumov had with his parents was about the Olympics, and what it would take to earn a spot on the American team next month in Italy. His short program Thursday night, which began with a quad salchow and ended with a triple-triple combination, was good enough to briefly give him the lead, and keep him in the mix heading into Saturday's free skate.

“My dad would have told me to keep fighting for that salchow,” Naumov said.

What would his mother have said?

“My mom never watched me skate. I don't think she watched past maybe 13, 14 years old,” Naumov replied, smiling. “Typically I'd be calling her in the next 5 minutes, and you know, she'd be saying, ‘OK, good job. But we’ve already forgot about it. We're thinking about the free already.' Those are her words, exactly.”

The 24-year-old Naumov was fourth at nationals a year ago, and he had returned home from Wichita on an earlier flight. His mom and dad stayed behind for the development camp and were making their own way home when the plane crash occurred.

In the days, weeks and months that followed, the younger Naumov became in some ways the face of the tragedy. He performed at a benefit in Washington that raised more than $1.2 million for the victims’ families, and he left an exhibition gala crowd during the world championships in Boston — hosted by his own Skating Club of Boston — standing in heartfelt admiration.

Naumov has even taken up leadership of the renowned club's youth academy, which was started by his parents.

“You know, even at a time like this, having the opportunity to be here, it's just another example of how capable I am in really difficult times,” Naumov said. “It's just more and more confidence built in for me, and just having a lot of mental strength.”

There have been other tributes to the victims of the crash during this year's nationals.

On the opening night, 16-year-old Sophie Joline Von Felten — another member of the Skating Club of Boston — brought two photos of her own to the kiss-and-cry area. One was of Spencer Lane and his mother, Christine Lane, who were killed in the crash, the other of Jinna Han and her mother, Jin Hee Han, who also lost their lives that night.

“I just tried to skate for them and feel them with me,” Von Felten said, “and feel like their souls were with me.”

Yet no moment was as poignant as when Naumov, dressed in a simple white shirt and black slacks, stepped off the ice Thursday night. He got a big hug from his coach, Vladimir Petrenko, and then kissed that old, faded photograph of himself and his parents.

When he talks about making the Olympic team, he refers to “we," as if his parents are still by his side.

AP Olympics: https://apnews.com/hub/milan-cortina-2026-winter-olympics

Maxim Naumov competes during the men's short program at the U.S. Figure Skating Championships, Thursday, Jan. 8, 2026, in St. Louis. (AP Photo/Stephanie Scarbrough)

Maxim Naumov holds a photo of his parents while he waits for his scores after competing during the men's short program at the U.S. Figure Skating Championships, Thursday, Jan. 8, 2026, in St. Louis. Naumov's parents were killed in a plane crash in early 2025. (AP Photo/Stephanie Scarbrough)

Maxim Naumov competes during the men's short program at the U.S. Figure Skating Championships, Thursday, Jan. 8, 2026, in St. Louis. (AP Photo/Stephanie Scarbrough)

Maxim Naumov holds a photo of his parents while he waits for his scores after competing during the men's short program at the U.S. Figure Skating Championships, Thursday, Jan. 8, 2026, in St. Louis. Naumov's parents were killed in a plane crash in early 2025. (AP Photo/Stephanie Scarbrough)

Maxim Naumov competes during the men's short program at the U.S. Figure Skating Championships, Thursday, Jan. 8, 2026, in St. Louis. (AP Photo/Stephanie Scarbrough)