Statham stars as Levon, a former military badass who has traded black ops for blueprints. Naturally, the peace does not last long. What follows is a one-man demolition derby of fists, gunfire and furrowed brows. And while it never truly rises above its predictable script or boilerplate direction, it also never fully crashes and burns, either. It just idles there, flexing its muscles.
A Working Man does not pretend to be high cinema. It knows its audience. It was practically engineered in a lab for anyone who thought The Mechanic needed more drywall or Safe could use a construction site subplot. It is not here to change the game, it is here to play the same game in steel-toe boots.
Unfortunately, everything around him seems to be a few screws loose. The villains are as one-dimensional as an Ikea instruction manual, the supporting cast ranges from “adequate” to “where have I seen them before?” and the script, while occasionally sharp, often stumbles on action clichés like a drunk uncle at a barbecue. Lines land with the grace of a thrown cinder block.
Where A Working Man shines is in its action sequences, which, to be fair, are the main reason anyone bought a ticket. The fight choreography is brutal, the gunplay loud and fast and the body count impressively stacked. Ayer knows how to direct carnage, even if the camera occasionally forgets that editing is a thing.
It is that tonal inconsistency that keeps A Working Man from hitting the highs of Statham’s better flicks. It is not The Transporter or Wrath of Man. Heck, it does not even match Homefront, which, coincidentally, was also written by Stallone. Instead, this one fits neatly into the “it’s fine” tier of his filmography.
With Stallone co-writing and producing, there is a very specific kind of machismo dripping from every scene. Every line sounds like it was written for the Marlboro man. Every stare-off threatens to trigger a testosterone explosion. But for all its bluster, the movie never feels particularly original. Every twist feels telegraphed, every emotional beat hits like a sledgehammer to a soufflé.
And yet, something is charming about how earnestly the film tries to deliver a straightforward, meat-and-potatoes action tale. No frills, no flair, just Statham laying waste to every baddie within reach. It may not be smart, but it is committed.
Ultimately, A Working Man is just aggressively average. It does everything a Statham movie is expected to do, just with less style, less bite and less wit than his greatest hits. There is no reinventing the wheel here, just rotating the tires on a vehicle that has been driving down this road for far too long.
Because if you do, you might just start wondering why half the cast looks like they were recruited from a warehouse clearance sale of Eastern European henchmen and why the plot twists are visible from orbit.
DIRECTOR: David Ayer
E-VALUE: 5/10
ACTING: 4/10
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