Reel Review: The Unholy Trinity

The Unholy Trinity doesn’t rush, doesn’t shout, and doesn’t try to be more than what it is: a slow-burning Western about men tied together by blood, betrayal, and unfinished business. It’s not flashy, but it’s solid—and when it lands, it lands hard.

Pierce Brosnan plays it with restraint. No big speeches, just the quiet weight of a man who’s buried more than he’s confessed. Samuel L. Jackson brings presence, not volume—his preacher is calm, deliberate, and dangerous. Brandon Lessard’s the emotional center, and while he’s not always the most compelling part of the frame, he holds steady next to two heavyweights.

Visually, it leans on the atmosphere: dry air, long shadows, distant gunfire. It feels like the end of something. The story unfolds slowly, almost too slow at times, but there’s a patience to it. It trusts the silence, the tension, the stares. When the violence comes, it’s quick and cruel—no music swell, no glory.

Some moments drag, and not every character lands. But the core trio works. The themes aren’t new, but they’re handled with enough weight to matter.

Mitten’s Verdict: The Unholy Trinity takes its time, keeps its head down, and delivers a Western that’s rough around the edges but built to last. Not great—but damn good. Rated: 6 out of 10.