The film, whose initial trailers made it look like Traffic Redux thanks to the war-on-drugs subject matter and the casting of Benicio Del Toro, has already been compared to Zero Dark Thirty , and it’s easy to see why: It takes on a seemingly unwinnable policy war, it delves into the fuzzy legalities of fighting said war, it places a tough woman at its center, and it concludes with an extended raid sequence (even borrowing the earlier picture’s copious infrared and night vision photography).
Psychologically, by situating an idealistic heroine at the heart of a militarized manhunt and forcing her to confront its sordid ethical realities, Sicario clearly aims to be the Mexican drug war’s Zero Dark Thirty (also on a visual level Villeneuve borrows a lot from Kathryn Bigelow’s film, for example a lengthy night-time ambush rendered in night-vision).
But Sicario emerges, less typical G-man thriller than something akin to Michael Mann's Heat or a Zero Dark Thirty substituting the War on Terror for the War on Drugs.
In a terrific performance that recalls the steely ferocity of Jodie Foster in “The Silence of the Lambs” and Jessica Chastain in “Zero Dark Thirty,” Emily Blunt stars here as Kate Macer, an FBI field agent who has been forced to don a Teflon exterior in order to rise through the Bureau’s male-dominated ranks, and to cope with the depravity she frequently witnesses in the line of duty.
The movie sometimes feels like "Zero Dark Thirty" and has a title (which in Jerusalem refers to a person hunting Roman invaders and means "hit man" in Mexico) that sounds like "Syriana," but "Sicario" is simpler than both of those—thankfully, to an extent, as how many people can actually explain all of "Syriana"?
To compare to Sicario to Heat or Zero Dark Thirty or even, for one or two brief flashes, Apocalypse Now , is not out of line.