Western ‘The Unholy Trinity' has Pierce Brosnan and Samuel L. Jackson, but that's not enough

San Francisco Chronicle​

a day ago

You may be saying, 'What? A Western with Samuel L. Jackson and Pierce Brosnan and I never heard of it?' Lo and behold, it's 'The Unholy Trinity,' a low-budget shoot-'em-up in which a neutral boy chooses between good and evil.
In 1888, 20-something Henry Broadway (Brandon Lessard) attends his estranged father's hanging. The condemned man tells his son he was framed and sets him on a mission of vengeance. Meanwhile, a smiling fellow named St. Christopher (Jackson) alarms Henry's dad with his presence just as the execution is carried out. St. Christopher follows Henry to a town called Trinity, where the young man is to kill the sheriff, the accused culprit.
It turns out the sheriff is already dead and the new one (Brosnan) seems a fair fellow, trying to convince the town that blood isn't always necessary for justice. He's also keeping an angry mob at bay who wants to lynch a local Native American lady accused of killing the old sheriff.
Henry gets into trouble and is saved by St. Christopher, who turns out to be an old accomplice of his dad's, bent on using Henry to find the loot from their big score. The question is, which of these two masters (two sides of the metaphorical trinity) will the young man follow?
'Heroes and villains … don't get caught on the wrong side of that coin,' says Brosnan's Sheriff Gabriel Dove (luckily his pistol hand isn't as heavy as the symbolism of his name) to Henry. Henry declares, later, 'I don't wanna be no villain!' and St. Christopher (symbolism) retorts, 'A man don't know what he is until his back's against the wall.'
The main draw is obviously Jackson versus Brosnan. And, sadly, we don't get nearly enough of it. They have two scenes together. Brosnan is fine as the noble lawman with a rough past, but there isn't really much built in to distinguish him.
Ah, evil Sam Jackson. It's a pleasure watching him run circles around yokels; one assumes that's what enticed him to take the role. Unfortunately, there isn't enough of that, either. The movie could have benefited from more of St. Christopher's scheming — after all, it sets itself the considerable challenge of hinging on a former slave's ability to talk a posse made up partly of former Confederate soldiers into killing whom he wants killed.
He does get the best lines, though, as when he 'reassures' Henry by saying, 'I ain't the devil, son. I'm just a sinner.' (And some of his best lines were apparently improvised.)
The dialogue isn't particularly distinguished otherwise, though my favorite exchange is when killers in holy garb attack Henry and Gabriel, and Henry says, 'I don't think he's a real priest,' followed by Gabriel's 'Like a Lutheran?' One wishes there had been more of that in a film in which characters say things like, 'It's all good' and 'Do you have my back?'
Lessard is OK as the innocent in over his head, but his character simply has no depth. And his leap from ineffectual coward to warrior seems abrupt.
The action is awkwardly staged, and there are too many head-scratching moments. One is prepared to suspend one's disbelief for a semi-mythic parable, but we shouldn't be wondering why this character lets a bad guy in or why that Native American character was unable to detect the bad guy's presence. The theme is clear, but the elements around it are diffuse. That deflates any tension.
'The Unholy Trinity' is a passable, 95-minute diversion, but an unremarkable one. There is, however, a memorable song over the end credits, 'What More,' written by Reese Nobile and Jackson Perry. So that's a pretty good reason to stay through the end.