The new action series has some big shoes to fill, and sometimes, it does.

Picture Credit: Netflix

The Man on Fire novel by A.J. Quinnell has been adapted a number of times now – this latest attempt, a series from showrunner Kyle Killen (Halo), differentiates itself through addition. On top of (vaguely) adapting both Man on Fire and its sequel novel The Perfect Kill, Killen’s adaptation looks directly into the backstory of washed-up ex-CIA mercenary and PTSD sufferer John Creasy (Yahya Abdul-Mateen II) from the very beginning, opening on the mission gone wrong which haunts him before launching into a stint as a gun-for-hire in Rio de Janeiro.

Though the details have changed, the story once again sees Creasy charged with the protection of a young girl, this time it’s Poe (Billie Boulet), the daughter of his friend Paul Rayburn (Bobby Cannavale), after her family is killed in a bombing of their condominium. Creasy seeks revenge and is drawn into a larger conspiracy, as the attackers then seek to hunt him and Poe down and silence them. There are more interlocking plots, more character arcs that dovetail with the main story, more people swept up in the carnage of Creasy’s personal mission.

Many will see the title and think of the 2004 film directed by Tony Scott and starring Denzel Washington, which relocated the events of the book from Italy to Mexico. This is reinforced by how the series is shot: through its widescreen framing, the sway of the handheld camerawork, the contrast and saturation of its color tones, even if it’s perhaps less vivid and far less visually distinct from the editing rhythms of Scott’s film. The score can also feel incredibly generic, and these stylistic misfires begin to accumulate and drag the show down.

Without such excitement, some of the embellishments of Killen’s version of this story can sometimes feel superfluous, far less interesting than Creasy’s attempts at vengeance. But once the series ties these disparate threads together, it becomes a bit easier to appreciate Killen’s attempts to distinguish the series from the films.

Thankfully, after a slow start, Killen’s show does maintain some of the pulpy spirit of the book, too, in moments which will please fans of the Scott film, like a gunfight at an airfield which ends in some rather wild improvisation. And once the series gets rolling, there’s some value to be found in how the series humanizes its wider cast, especially as it pits them against an increasingly terrifying Creasy.

This wouldn’t be the first time Yahya Abdul-Mateen II has stepped into the shoes once worn by a legendary actor, given his past role as Morpheus in The Matrix Resurrections. But Abdul-Mateen is more than capable of living up to those roles, here playing up Creasy’s sensitivity but also his capability for beastly violence as a monstrous urge he tries to suppress. That said, it’s thoroughly enjoyable seeing him terrify hired goons who are more out of their depth than they know – especially when the show’s action sequences incorporate Abdul-Mateen’s towering frame into the choreography as blunt objects seem to just bounce off him.

Considering that comparisons are inevitable, it’s a strikingly different take on Denzel Washington’s equally grim and closed-off version of the character. Abdul-Mateen’s Creasy, though still keeping his ward at arm’s length, is more communicative and understanding of Poe and her relationship with her father than his previous iteration would be.

It can make the emotional journey a little bit muddled, given that he starts the series by giving Poe the kind of emotional support that had to be fought for in the original story and its adaptations. Additionally, when their relationship should feel like the core of the series, it often is left at the periphery for the sake of the ensemble which grows over time.

But it also makes sense to try to create a different kind of emotional shell to be pierced in this take on Man on Fire, even if the results are mixed. Their relationship is forged on the run rather than in her domestic life as in the films and books, but it at least still feels important when the guilt-riddled Abdul-Mateen cracks a smile, just as it feels major when Boulet as Poe braves her own side stories separate from Creasy’s mission of revenge. Given that the cast can manage a story being told through the nuances of their performances, it can feel a little disappointing when the show leans on these characters speaking the subtext aloud, not quite trusting the audience to infer from how they react.

The new Man on Fire can sometimes feel like it undermines itself in its attempts to feel distinct from its previous iterations, but it still gets some of the basic details right: in particular, the bloody, bone-crunching violence and the conflicted spirit of the man enacting it.

MAN ON FIRE. (L to R) Bruno Suzano as Beto, Daniel Xavier as Bacca, Iago Xavier as Vico, Reinaldo Junior as Duda, and Alice Braga as Valeria Melo in Episode 104 of Man on Fire. Cr. Juan Rosas/Netflix © 2024

MVP of Man on Fire

Without Yahya Abdul-Mateen II, the show sinks; his alternatively glowering and tortured performance as Creasy, a man riddled with guilt and PTSD over his previous line of work, always keeps that emotional conflict in plain view, even as nothing is being said. That clarity cuts through a lot of the fluff in the screenwriting, and his composure in the action sequences, as well as in rather intense interrogation scenes, make him a convincing force to be reckoned with.

The Verdict

As the new Man on Fire plot spirals out into numerous subplots, it sometimes misses the straightforwardness of past adaptations as well as their visual dynamism. But its attempt to stand apart from previous adaptations counts for a lot. And for the most part, the basic thrills of an unsuspecting criminal network (and government operatives) suffering the wrath of a man capable of matching their brutality, remain intact.