Based on extensive research with law enforcement, gangs, inmates, migrants, and addicts, King Ivory confronts the fentanyl epidemic head-on, presenting a world where the drug trade touches every corner of society. Writer-director John Swab depicts Tulsa, Oklahoma, as a landscape where no one is untouched: from civilians to criminals to law enforcement, the consequences ripple outward in both expected and devastating ways.
At the centre of King Ivory is narcotics officer Layne West (James Badge Dale), a man whose daily grind turns painfully personal when he discovers his son, Jack (Jasper Jones), is caught up in fentanyl. Until this point, Layne has treated the epidemic as a problem he can manage from the outside; once it reaches his own home, the stakes become intensely personal. That tension is amplified by the presence of his partner, Ty (George Carroll), and his girlfriend (Sam Quartin), both acutely aware of the danger — a dynamic that threads through some of the film’s most affecting family moments. Dale brings a controlled, simmering intensity to Layne, portraying a man wrestling with helplessness, responsibility, and the crushing weight of a crisis he can’t fully contain.
The supporting cast provides much of the film’s grit and weight. Ben Foster’s George “Smiley” Greene is trapped between survival and family, forced into brutal, cold-blooded choices, even as flickers of conscience linger — a stark reminder that, given his circumstances, there is no real way out. His tracheostomy underscores a history of hardship, lending the character a physical and emotional heft that drives his decisions. At the same time, Michael Mando’s Ramón Garza, a key figure in the local trafficking network, inhabits a similar moral grey area, balancing ruthless pragmatism with hesitant empathy for those caught up in the trade.
As mentioned, Swab’s direction is rooted in meticulous realism and, as a result, the film refuses to glamorize either violence or addiction. Each confrontation feels immediate, capturing both the energy and exhaustion of officers contending with a crisis they can never fully contain. The action is precise rather than showy, often punctuated by the sense of futility that hangs over the police work, emphasizing that this is a battle without easy victories.
Yet King Ivory is more than a procedural or action-driven story: it is an exploration of the human cost of systemic crises. The screenplay finds emotional truth in every corner — in Layne’s slow realization of his son’s predicament, in Smiley’s impossible moral compromises, and in the fraught interactions between traffickers and those caught in their orbit. Family, loyalty, and survival collide with devastating effect, showing that even well-meaning choices carry consequences. The film never softens these realities, grounding each performance and narrative beat in consequences that resonate with a hard, unflinching honesty.
While the film occasionally struggles with pacing, this is a minor blemish on a film otherwise committed to honesty, intensity, and clarity of purpose. Swab’s direction, combined with strong performances across the board, keeps the narrative compelling throughout.
Ultimately, King Ivory is a tense, gripping, and empathetic portrayal of the fentanyl epidemic, one that balances urgent social commentary with intimate, emotionally charged storytelling. The combination of Dale’s controlled intensity, Foster and Mando’s morally torn performances, and the film’s unwavering commitment to realism makes it a rare example of a socially conscious thriller that resonates on multiple levels and leaves the audience acutely aware of the real-world stakes behind every choice the characters make.
VERDICT:
King Ivory will be released in cinemas nationwide on Friday, November 14.
