Bautista, Mamoa nearly salvage Wrecking Crew
With the coming of sound to the film industry in 1927, the movie musical was born. Studios were so eager to promote the new technology through song and dance, there was a glut of musicals that nearly killed the genre before it could gain a head of steam. In 1929, 70 were produced. In 1930, the number rose to 92. The result with audiences was an initial fascination and a very quick aversion. And while studios continued to produce these movies at this pace for the next few years, many were box office failures, viewers having tired of them in record time.
I think the action genre, as well as the superhero movie, is in a similar situation. The bloom is off the rose where they’re concerned and I think were there a moratorium of a year or two placed on each, it would benefit each genre financially and artistically. What with the “Mission: Impossible” and “John Wick” franchises, the bar has been raised where stunts, chases and gun battles are concerned. Conjuring something that proves genuinely eye-popping and thrilling has become a tall order.
To their credit, director Angel Manuel Soto and screenwriter Jonathan Tropper try to shake things up with their actioner The Wrecking Crew, at least initially. Beginning as a police procedural, with a dose of family drama, the film gets off to a promising start. Unfortunately, the movie can’t escape its genre conventions, its last half hour a rote exercise in excess.
Estranged half brothers James and Jonny Hale (Dave Bautista and Jason Momoa) are brought back together by the unexpected death of their father. Initially thought to be a hit-and-run, further investigation raises questions about their private-eye dad’s killing. Being attacked by a trio of Yakuza ninjas tends to raise such suspicions.
Reluctantly, the Hales combine their respective skill sets – James is a Navy Seal, Jonny is a cop – to find the truth behind their father’s demise. Before all is said and done, a real estate corruption scheme is exposed, half of Honolulu is torn to shreds and familial rifts are mended.
The pairing of Bautista and Mamoa is the film’s strong suit, their antagonistic chemistry providing enough energy to this tired exercise to make it seem, if not fresh, at least passably entertaining. Regarding the mystery that brings the Hales together, it really is nothing special, ultimately playing out as a Chinatown-like scheme that has become so overused, it served as the backbone for Disney’s Zootopia.
Of course, the bread-and-butter of films like Crew are the action sequences, which are surprisingly sparse and modest during its first half. An inspired, close quarters fist fight between Mamoa and a trio of knife-wielding Yakuza is a hoot, our hero using a variety of household items (watch out for that cheese grater!) to dispatch them with aplomb. Unfortunately, a rather mundane gun battle brings the first hour to an end.
Like a thoroughbred who saves up enough energy to make a final sprint in the home stretch, Soto and Tropper backload the movie with its most elaborate set pieces. However, they go a bit too far. An elaborate car chase on a bridge employing SUVS, motorcycles and a helicopter is initially thrilling but overstays its welcome and proves far too violent. When a bad guy’s arm is ripped from his body, gun still in hand, you’ve reached a level of violence that’s not only gratuitous but unnecessary. And there’s no escaping the fact that the final showdown, featuring an assault on a heavily-fortified compound by the heavily-armed siblings, is so predictable it incites yawns rather than thrills.
Much like the action genre, Bautista looks a bit tired throughout. Hats off to the 56-year-old actor for being able to muster the energy to get through the elaborate actions scenes he’s required to execute. It’s far more than 90% of the men his age could accomplish but much less than the younger, quicker co-stars he’s paired with who make his actions seem snail-like in comparison. Thankfully, he’s a capable actor who’ll, once the time comes, be able to segue out of these films.
In the end, it’s not that The Wrecking Crew is a bad film so much as an unnecessary one. It and so many of its ilk are in desperate need of innovation. Now had this been an action film-musical, that would have been something. Streaming on Amazon Prime.
Irish myth basis for horrific Morrigan
A shape-shifting entity, referred to as the “Phantom Queen” or the “Triple Goddess” in Irish folklore, the Morrigan is an entity not to be trifled with. Associated with war and death, she’s been depicted as a woman washing the armor of warriors destined to die. At times, she may appear as a crow, a harbinger of death. Linked to the health of the land, she is said to have affected the outcome of wars, encouraging warriors to commit deeds of great courage, this fierce warrior strikes fear in those she fights with her fury and might.
This figure is at the center of Colum Eastwood’s clever horror film, The Morrigan, a smart, atmospheric feature that examines gender politics and generational conflict, while delivering a fair share of scares. Briskly told and sustained by its strong cast, the movie relies on old-fashioned thrills, its suspense generated by suggestive lighting, sharp editing and practical special effects. And while the premise hearkens to many a mummy movie, Eastwood’s script contains enough surprises to make it seem fresh, while its portrayal of the abuses of misogyny through the ages, gives the film necessary narrative heft.
Fiona (Saffron Burrows), a professor of archeology, has done extensive research on the Morrigan and is convinced the myth was based on a real warrior. She posits that the “goddess” and her followers took refuge on Annan Island, but were tracked down by an army of men, slain there, and entombed in an underground vault. The board of trustees at her university reluctantly funds an excavation at the site, but only if Fiona’s colleague and rival, Jonathan (Johnathan Forbes) oversees it. This does not sit well, as not only has he taken credit for her work in the past, but has also sexually assaulted her.
Complicating things further, when Fiona’s husband leaves her, she’s forced to bring her teenage daughter, Lily (Emily Flain) along. Petulant and rebellious, she rubs their host Malachy (Toby Stephens) the wrong way, though his teenage son, Sean (Art Parkinson) is soon smitten by her.
Sure enough, Fiona’s hunch proves correct. The Morrigan’s coffin is found and once it is opened by Lily, the vengeful, long dormant spirit is loose to wreak havoc at will, particularly on any men who might cross her.
Before this happens, Eastwood provides us with plenty of background on not just Fiona and Lily, but the others as well. That we are aware of the secondary characters’ motivations and past, adds more intrigue to the story, as it increases our interest. Of course, not all is as it seems, but the key secrets in the story are logical and don’t seem cheap or manipulative when revealed. As such, the film’s third act does not consist of simply a rampage by the titular threat but is buoyed by key revelations that cast things in a different light.
All in the cast give convincing performances, not a tongue in cheek or wink toward the camera in sight. Burrows, Flain, Stephens and Parkinson are all strong, conveying fear and wonder with a sincerity that elevates the material. James Cosmo as Uncle Francis, who has his fair share of secrets, also excels.
Robert Binnall’s eerie cinematography effectively compliments their efforts, while Eastwood wisely doesn’t belabor any of the story’s familiar points. As a result, The Morrigan proves to be a worthwhile little shocker, a film that reminds us that Shakespeare’s comment about scorned women is not only accurate an accurate observation but an entirely justified one as well. Available via video-on-demand, Feb. 3.
This article appears in January 29-February 4, 2026.
