Written and directed by Bassam Tariq (Mogul Mowgli (2020), Bait (2026)). IMDB trivia says this arose from the ashes of an aborted Blade reboot, which explains why lead Mahershala Ali knowingly brings a knife to a gunfight. The poster/cover has Ali with a knife and a baby and none of John Woo's humour.
Somehow Ali makes his bread as a righteous Muslim suburban assassin or perhaps lives off his retirement from military activities in the Middle East. Things get complex when his wife passes and he has three kids to take care of, one of whom requires a breast milk McGuffin hunt. Every element of the situation is so brittle that you wonder how he made it this far; he got ahead of absolutely nothing. The sacred is juxtaposed with the profane, ritual set against the quotidian exigencies, belief held without depth, scripture tritely interpreted, extraordinary moral clarity arises ex nihilo. An early, mildly amusing scene of furry curiosity by Ali's daughter Adia promised more than the rest could deliver. John Cho plays an outre preacher/televangelist in Elvis mode. The Christians use guns and mostly survived; nobody is preaching nonviolence here. I think there were two resurrections.
The cinematography is uninspired. The soundtrack is aspirational; somewhat World-y but far off the pace of, for instance, Peter Gabriel's efforts. The entirety is very derivative. It made very little sense to me.
The reviews out there are unreasonably fawning.
