How to Blow Up a Pipeline

Director: Daniel Goldfaber
Starring: Ariela Barer, Kristine Froseth, Lukas Gage, Forrest Goodluck, Sasha Lane, Jayme Lawson, Marcus Scribner, Jake Weary, Irene Bedard
Running Time: 104 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)   

Adapted from Andreas Malm's 2021 nonfiction book, the climate change thriller How to Blow Up a Pipeline is nothing if not direct, uncompromisingly taking a clear stance while offering no apologies for its intentions. But however you feel about that or the characters' actions, it's hard not to respect how co-writer/director Daniel Goldhaber fully commits to the premise, showing in painstaking detail the nuts and bolts of a dangerously involved plan. And in daring to ask what exactly constitutes terrorism, it doesn't depict a winnable fight where everyone walks away unscathed. 

Bringing their own separate histories and purposes to the table, the characters are bound by a common goal, forced to put their trust in a group partially comprised of total strangers. Goldfaber picks a side without brushing morally relevant questions under the rug, condensing this timely, controversial issue into a tight procedural that takes some time to gather steam. But once momentum picks up, it tensely builds to a crescendo filled with curveballs and complications. For every problem solved, others unexpectedly pop up, as they race against the clock to pull off the impossible.

Having grown up near pollution generating oil refineries, young environmental activist and Long Beach, California native Xochitl (co-writer Ariela Barer) is grieving the death of her mother during a heatwave. But when friend Theo (Sasha Lane) is diagnosed with terminal cancer, Xochitl abandons her stalled campus divestment campaign in favor of more radical measures. Plotting an ambitious act of eco-terrorism, they recruit Theo's girlfriend Alisha (Jayme Lawson), film student Shawn (Marcus Scribner) and blue-collar Texan Dwayne (Jake Weary), whose family's land is being seized by an oil company enforcing eminent domain. 

Joining those five are Michael (Forrest Goodluck), a Native American explosives expert from North Dakota and young, impulsively lawbreaking couple Rowan (Kristine Froseth) and Logan (Lukas Gage). They converge at a small West Texas cabin, preparing to detonate homemade explosives along a recently constructed pipeline nearby and force an oil company shut down. But even with Dwayne's knowledge of the area and Michael's bomb building expertise, a variety of problems arise, threatening their plan and chances of escaping alive. 

The script takes an unusually sympathetic viewpoint toward characters who proudly view the terrorist label as a badge of honor. They see their actions as a last resort of self-defense against the untouchable refineries, even while it will take a lot of effort and trust for these different personalities to effectively co-exist.

If there's a lead, it's Barer, whose Xochitl not only comes up with the idea of destroying the pipeline, but proves instrumental in gathering this crew to do it. Her desperation is palpable, as is that of Sasha Lane's Theo, with both actresses bringing an unguarded authenticity to their roles, making it painfully personal for them in ways it may not be for the other characters. The exception is Jake Weary's Dwayne, who's driven by a controlled determination to even the score and protect his family.

Cutting between character flashbacks and suspenseful present-day cabin scenes, Goodluck's angry loner Michael demonstrates a scientific prowess matched only by his ability to keep the gang on edge while Jayme Lawson's Alisha gets  more than she bargained for after being dragged into this. Even criminal screwups Rowan and Logan have a more interesting dynamic than anticipated, their wildly unpredictable nature hanging over the operation like a dark cloud. All of them fit certain types yet remain believable as rebellious disruptors who would become embroiled in something like this.

Part paranoid thriller and vintage heist film, Goldfaber shoots the action in a grainy, documentary style, with most of the tension hinging on the uncertainty of everyone being able to cover their tracks and overcome unforeseen logistical challenges. But as nail biting as the actual execution is, it's the aftermath that shakes you, with an inventive closing credit sequence that questions what "getting away with it" actually entails. The phrase carries different meanings and implications for each, even if what binds them is a shared belief that the ends justify the means.