The first shot of Deputy Tabitha ‘Tabby’ Temple (Nikki Amuka-Bird) shows her at her bathroom sink, knocking back painkillers before hobbling along her house, her foot encased in a large cast, to get herself ready to drive into work at the Jericho Ridge sheriff’s office.
The isolated building is set off a winding valley road that very distantly connects equally remote communities (as in much of the midwestern United States, calling them towns is a stretch). She brings her son Monty (Zack Morris) for unspecified reasons, and tension hangs between them. Her colleagues are conflicted about her returning to work with her injury, even if just on the dispatch, but she insists she is fit and ready. Helping her case is the fact that circumstances outweigh her fellow officer’s concerns: a break-in at their headquarters, encouraged by dimwitted yet kind Deputy Walter Judge (Solly McCloud) installing almost-invisible spy cameras instead of a more obviously-placed CCTV deterrent, has everyone on edge and off to shake down prime suspects. As the night shift begins, Tabby is left on the phone lines, keeping one eye on the dashcam and an ear out for the locksmith who will fix the front door and vault safe.
Of course, JERICHO RIDGE would be a poor thriller if things went to plan. The high-octane, low-budget story unfolds with unflagging suspense, becoming a siege, heist, and survival film all at once. Directed by Will Gilbey in his feature film debut, JERICHO RIDGE is possibly the first international feature filmed in Kosovo; the rolling tree-covered hills stand in for unspecified rural America with distinct midwestern vibes – easily fitting in a Kentucky or West Virginia setting. The American accents among the predominantly British cast are not equally matched or proficient, but the characters and (perhaps rote, but very satisfying) roles are committed to with aplomb.
“Amuka-Bird never overplays Tabby’s injury or the demons that may have driven it, striking a pitch-perfect balance between her professional facade and human vulnerabilities.”
As in many good small-town narratives, the connections between the characters – seen on screen and talked about in the community – drive much of the action, and the pieces come together quickly but are never frenetic. While exact motivations and connections are not always fully spelt out, they do not need to be – this is precisely the information Tabby would have as she watches, waits, and acts in desperation. Amuka-Bird never overplays Tabby’s injury or the demons that may have driven it, striking a pitch-perfect balance between her professional facade and human vulnerabilities. That said, she and the creative team do not undersell the difficulty of holding off intruders with a broken leg, to often wince-inducing ends.
JERICHO RIDGE understands the pure thrill of a well-executed standoff, and at 88 minutes, never once lets the pace drop. It is hard to ask for more.