Are We the Good Guys? Inside the Grit of The RIP (2026)
- Dan Brooks
- 2 days ago
- 3 min read
A group of Miami cops discovers a stash of millions in cash, leading to distrust as outsiders learn about the huge seizure, making them question who to rely on.
There are movies that ease you in gently, offer you a beverage, and ask how your day’s been. The RIP instead kicks the door open, flips the lights off, and whispers, “Relax… this’ll only hurt your conscience.”
From the jump, this thing is dark and gritty, the good kind. The kind that immediately had my brain firing off nostalgic synapses like an old jukebox stuck on Heat, Colors, and every morally compromised cop movie that ever made Internal Affairs look like a suggestion, not a department. The vibe is pure neo-noir: sweaty, suspicious, and soaked in the kind of ethical sludge that stains everything it touches.
What really works here is the tone. This movie doesn’t wink at you. It doesn’t explain itself. It doesn’t hold your hand. It assumes you’re smart enough to keep up and morally flexible enough to be uncomfortable. Everyone looks dirty. Everyone feels dirty. Even the clean shirts feel like they were ironed with guilt. And that’s exactly what makes it such a great whodunnit - except instead of asking who committed the crime, you’re asking who hasn’t yet.
Matt Damon plays Lieutenant Dane Dumars with that familiar Damon precision - calm, calculating, and quietly unraveling. There’s a weight behind his eyes that suggests this guy has already crossed lines long before the movie started. And here’s a fun little literary Easter egg: the tattoo on his hand references The Road, specifically that haunting question, “Are we the good guys?”
That’s not a throwaway detail. It’s the entire movie in one sentence. Because the deeper this story goes, the harder that question gets to answer without lying to yourself.
Ben Affleck, meanwhile, continues his streak of showing up in projects where morality is optional and consequences are negotiable. There’s a lived-in weariness to his performance - like a guy who knows exactly how bad things can get because he’s already been there, twice, and kept the receipt.
Steven Yeun deserves special mention here. He brings a coiled intensity that makes every scene he’s in feel unstable, like a glass table with a hairline crack running through it. You don’t know if it’s going to hold or shatter, and that uncertainty adds real tension.
Joe Carnahan directs this thing like he’s allergic to comfort. Some scenes are very dark - borderline “is my TV broken?” dark - and yeah, that can be frustrating. You’ll find yourself leaning forward, squinting, maybe adjusting your settings like you’re cracking a safe.
But thematically? It works. This is a movie about obscured motives, half-truths, and actions taken in the dark - literally and figuratively. You’re not always meant to see clearly. You’re meant to feel uneasy.
And make no mistake, there are intense scenes here that land hard. The tension doesn’t come from explosions or volume; it comes from silence, glances held too long, conversations that feel like chess matches played with loaded guns. Every interaction feels transactional. Every smile feels like a setup.
The title itself is Miami cop slang for confiscating a bad guy’s goods - the “rip.” But the real rip here isn’t just money. It’s trust. It’s loyalty. It’s the thin moral fabric holding these characters together once temptation shows up wearing dollar-sign sunglasses.
There’s also a fascinating real-world inspiration baked in. Damon’s character is loosely inspired by a real Miami Police Department captain involved in an actual investigation, grounding the film just enough to make the corruption feel plausible… right up until the climax, which - let’s be honest - gets a little Hollywood.
Is it unrealistic? Sure.
Did I roll my eyes for half a second? Maybe.
Did I still go with it? Absolutely.
Because this is a movie, not a training video, and sometimes you forgive a leap in logic if the landing sticks emotionally. Here, it mostly does.
Shortly after the project was shopped around, Netflix swooped in and bought distribution rights. Standard stuff - except for one genuinely refreshing twist. If the movie hits certain performance benchmarks within its first 90 days, 1,200 crew members get a one-time bonus.
That’s not how Netflix usually plays ball. That’s more “remember the people who built this thing” energy, and honestly? Credit where credit’s due.
Final thoughts
The RIP isn’t flashy. It’s not trying to reinvent the genre. What it does instead is strip it down to raw nerves and bad decisions, asking how far decent people will go when the price is right and the odds feel justifiable.
It’s a movie that trusts its audience, challenges its characters, and leaves you sitting there afterward quietly auditing your own moral compass. You know, light entertainment.
⭐ Final Ranking
7.7 / 10