The Wrecking Crew

There is something almost provocative and old school about The Wrecking Crew, a film that knows exactly what kind of adventure it wants to be and commits to it with the confidence of a bruised fist hitting the table. At a time when action cinema often apologizes for its excesses or hides behind irony, Ángel Manuel Soto offers us a throwback that embraces noise, muscle, sweat, and feelings in equal measure. It's a film that knows audiences sometimes want a noisy, unapologetic escape fueled by pure chemistry between stars, and it wastes no time in delivering. From its opening scenes on the streets of Honolulu to its increasingly unbridled escalation into automotive chaos and bloody brawls, The Wrecking Crew presents itself as a lost relic of the late '80s and early '90s, but more stylish, bloodier, and surprisingly more emotionally rich than its synopsis suggests.

At the heart of the film is the long-awaited duo of Jason Momoa and Dave Bautista, and it's no exaggeration to say that the film lives and breathes thanks to their dynamic. In the roles of Jonny and James Hale, two estranged half-brothers brought back together by their father's suspicious death, they embody the classic yin and yang of buddy action movies with remarkable ease. Jason Momoa fully immerses himself in Jonny's reckless, boozy chaos, using his natural charm and physique to create an unpredictable character reminiscent of Martin Riggs' glory days without feeling like a mere imitation. Dave Bautista, on the other hand, plays James as the embodiment of restraint: a disciplined Navy SEAL, husband, and father whose emotional suppression seems just as dangerous as his fists. Watching them clash, verbally and physically, is the film's greatest pleasure, and their antagonism never feels artificial; it is rooted in years of resentment, abandonment, and unresolved grief that the script cleverly simmers beneath the explosions.

What elevates The Wrecking Crew above the level of disposable streaming movies is the way Jonathan Tropper weaves genuine emotional stakes through a deliberately familiar framework. Admittedly, the plot—a hit-and-run that isn't what it seems, a corrupt real estate conspiracy, Japanese mob enforcers, and powerful, shadowy players—rarely surprises, but it serves as a solid backdrop for the brothers' reconciliation. The most effective scenes are not those with the highest body count, but the moments immediately following the violence, when Jonny and James are forced to confront what they have done and why they did it. A fight in the rain between the two brothers ends not in triumph but in exhaustion, leading to a wounded and vulnerable exchange that briefly strips the genre of its bravado. It reminds us that behind the steroid jokes and crude banter, this is a story about forgiveness and inherited trauma, themes that carry more weight than they should in such a joyfully destructive film.

The Wrecking Crew never forgets its primary mission: to deliver action with conviction and clarity. Director Ángel Manuel Soto, in collaboration with cinematographer Matt Flannery, stages sequences with an energy and physicality that put many bigger-budget theatrical releases to shame. An early fight scene involving Jonny and a group of yakuza assassins sets the tone with its raw brutality and dark humor, while a lengthy highway chase involving motorcycles, helicopters, and a moment where an arm is torn off that borders on grindhouse excess propels the film into delirious territory. It's clear that these sequences were designed to be felt, not just watched, and even when the special effects are visible, the commitment to scale and momentum remains admirable.

The supporting cast largely understand their role within this star-driven machine and contribute without imposing themselves. Morena Baccarin brings grit and energy to Valentina, refusing to play a passive role even when the script sometimes underuses her. Stephen Root is excellent, as always, as the perpetually exasperated cop tasked with cleaning up the Hale brothers' collateral damage, anchoring the madness with weary authority. On the villain side, Claes Bang relishes his role as Marcus Robichaux, a smug and predatory real estate developer whose threat lies as much in his rights as in his physical threats, while Jacob Batalon injects nervous energy and comic relief into the role of Pika, their father's former partner, even if some of the humor intended for him seems more obligatory than inspired.

Visually and thematically, the film's Hawaiian setting is more than just a postcard backdrop. Ángel Manuel Soto's direction, influenced by his own cultural sensibility and Jason Momoa's Hawaiian roots, gives the story a tangible sense of belonging, incorporating concerns about land exploitation, heritage, and colonial greed without turning the film into a sermon. These elements remain discreet beneath the surface, enriching the narrative rather than derailing it, and giving the chaos a subtle meaning. This is one of the reasons why the film feels more alive than many algorithm-based streaming releases: it has texture, specificity, and an awareness of the world it blows up.

If The Wrecking Crew stumbles, it's mainly because of its overly familiar rhythms and occasional excess length, which could have benefited from a faster pace in the final act. The mystery is easy to solve, the villains reveal their roles too early, and some emotional twists are resolved a little too neatly. But these flaws seem minor when compared to the pure pleasure of watching two perfectly matched action stars bounce off each other with such enthusiasm. It's comforting cinema, made with talent and sincerity, the kind of film that reminds you why the buddy movie formula has endured.

The Wrecking Crew deserves its place not by reinventing the genre, but by paying homage to it with confidence, skill, and charisma to spare. It's a loud, violent, funny, sometimes sincere film, carried by an unforgettable duo whose chemistry alone justifies the experience. If this really is the birth of a franchise, it's one worth following, and we'll be there with a beer in hand to celebrate.

The Wrecking Crew
Directed by Ángel Manuel Soto
Written by Jonathan Tropper
Produced by Jeffrey Fierson, Jason Momoa, Dave Bautista, Matt Reeves, Lynn Harris
Starring Jason Momoa, Dave Bautista, Claes Bang, Temuera Morrison, Jacob Batalon, Frankie Adams, Miyavi, Stephen Root, Morena Baccarin
Cinematography: Matt Flannery
Edited by Mike McCusker
Music by Bobby Krlic
Production companies: 6th & Idaho Productions, Hard J Productions, Reunion Pacific Entertainment
Distributed by Amazon MGM Studios
Release dates: January 15, 2026 (Regal Times Square), January 28, 2026 (Prime Video)
Running time: 122 minutes

Viewed on January 28, 2026 on Prime Video

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