Rust (2025): When Blood Stains the West, Truth Becomes the Hardest Bullet to Fire

Rust isn’t just a man—it’s what happens when time, guilt, and blood settle into the bones. 

Rust (2025) arrives under the heaviest shadow in recent Hollywood memory—its tragic production history forever marked by the on-set accident that claimed the life of cinematographer Halyna Hutchins in 2021. Yet, against all odds and controversy, director Joel Souza and lead actor Alec Baldwin deliver a finished film that attempts to honor its fallen artist and reclaim the power of Western storytelling.

Set in 1880s New Mexico, Rust tells the story of Harland Rust (Baldwin), a weathered outlaw who comes out of hiding to help his teenage grandson, Lucas (played by Patrick Scott McDermott), escape execution after being wrongly accused of murder. Pursued by a relentless U.S. Marshal and haunted by his own violent past, Rust and the boy ride through a brutal landscape where justice is often decided by who draws first—and who’s left standing.

At its heart, Rust is a somber, intimate western. It strips away the grandiose heroism often found in the genre, instead offering a morally gray tale about legacy, forgiveness, and how violence shapes generations. Baldwin’s performance is reflective and restrained—a far cry from his earlier, flashier roles—portraying a man desperate to protect what little good remains in his bloodline.

Visually, the film leans into rugged naturalism—arid plains, cracked earth, and golden dusk sunsets frame the emotional weight of every gunfight and pause. Composer Carter Burwell adds a haunting minimal score that underscores the film’s meditative tone.

Though it will inevitably be viewed through the lens of its tragic backstory, Rust (2025) stands as a quiet, character-driven western—one more about ghosts than glory. It's a film that doesn't flinch from sorrow, and perhaps because of that, it finds unexpected grace.