After the sclerotic and emotionally awkward Rules of Engagement, William Friedkin went back to basics. The Hunted is a stripped-down mano a mano plot centered around one of the oldest relationships in drama: the teacher and the pupil who has surpassed him. This leads to predictable but compelling complications between two men that nevertheless are not explored as thoroughly as they could be. Essentially, The Hunted aspires to be Friedkin’s spiritual descendent of Sorcerer, but it refuses to go as deep and dark into human nature and its fatalistic tendencies.

The movie opens with a prologue, set in the latter days of the Kosovo War, that depicts Special Forces Sergeant Aaron Hallam’s (Benicio Del Toro) ability to infiltrate and stealthily execute the designated target. Yet, the psychological impact of his actions lingers, and he is soon being photographed akin to Marlon Brando’s Colonel Kurtz from Apocalypse Now. Years later, when civilian hunters in Oregon turn up mutilated, LT Bonham (Tommy Lee Jones) is called in from his isolated existence in snowy British Columbia to find the killer. Is it a coincidence that once Bonham figures out Hallam is the suspect, their past connection as student and teacher emerges?

The rest of the movie consists primarily of scenes in which Bonham, with the FBI following like a puppy, tracks Hallam as he tries to outmaneuver and guess his next move. Friedkin pays careful attention to the details of tracking in the woods and evading capture, but there is little substance beyond the superficial entertainment value. Unlike Sorcerer, Friedkin has little to say about these characters other than the obvious “war makes man machine-like” theme common in so many latter-day pictures of this kind. Then again, what else is there to say about characters such as these? Clearly both men are comfortable living on the margins of society with little to no human interaction as a way of attempting to heal their psychological wounds. For reasons never fully understood, Hallam’s psyche goes awry and Bonham appears to be the only man who can capture him and make sense of his actions. We follow along closely and gain a sense of their troubles even if they remain somewhat at arms length.

Where Friedkin succeeds most effectively is in the style of demonstrating these two experts at their peak performances. Neither actor is required to say much, especially Jones, but their eyes and facial gestures reflect everything that needs to be said regarding their feelings about one another and their respective missions. With his crinkled face and deadpan minimalism, Jones is built for this kind of role, and Del Toro is equal to the task of the intense but psychologically tortured apprentice who values his teacher’s lessons but senses the inherent contradictions in them. Even so, Friedkin does not hover over these themes as much as the pure adrenaline of the chase between predator and prey and the blurry line between the two. The final knife fight is well-staged, and the stylized fights are filmed close enough to feel genuinely grueling. Not much will be learned about these men other than their need to survive and overcome, but then again, this is what they were trained to do. Their hard-wired nature overrides any deeply felt emotions that could compromise the mission.