Bullet Train

I watched this movie in a theater where the air conditioning was cranked so high I genuinely felt like I was trapped in the refrigerated luggage car with that deadly boomslang snake. Honestly, the shivering probably helped me keep pace with the movie. Brad Pitt enters the frame sporting a bucket hat and a newfound commitment to "therapeutic peace," and for the next two hours, the film proceeds to punch that peace directly in the mouth. It’s loud, it’s neon-soaked, and it’s arguably the most fun I’ve had with a non-superhero blockbuster in years.

The Physics of a Fistfight in a Quiet Car

Directing action is a tricky beast in the 2020s. We’ve been spoiled by the "gun-fu" of John Wick (which David Leitch co-directed, though uncredited) and the sprawling CG-mayhem of the MCU. Bullet Train finds a middle ground by turning its setting into a weapon. Because 90% of the film takes place inside the cramped, interconnected cars of a Japanese Shinkansen, the choreography has to be inventive. You aren't just watching people trade punches; you’re watching them weaponize briefcases, smart toilets, and overpriced mineral water.

David Leitch leans hard into his stuntman roots here. There’s a rhythm to the skirmishes that feels less like a choreographed dance and more like a high-stakes slapstick routine. One standout sequence involves a silent brawl in the "Quiet Car," where Brad Pitt and Brian Tyree Henry have to try and murder each other while keeping their "shhh" levels appropriate for public transit. It’s the kind of physical comedy that feels like Buster Keaton met a Tarantino script in a dark alley. The stunts feel heavy and impactful, largely because Brad Pitt reportedly performed about 95% of his own physical action. Seeing a fifty-something A-lister actually take those bumps adds a layer of "how are his knees okay?" that keeps you locked in.

The Gospel According to Thomas the Tank Engine

While the action is the engine, the characters are the high-octane fuel. Usually, in these "ensemble of assassins" movies, half the cast is just there to be fodder for the body count. But here, every seat on the train feels occupied by someone with a weirdly specific personality quirk. The undisputed MVPs are the "twins," Tangerine and Lemon. Aaron Taylor-Johnson (who I’m convinced should be the next James Bond based entirely on his ability to wear a three-piece suit while covered in blood) and Brian Tyree Henry have chemistry that feels like it was forged over a decade of actual sibling rivalry.

The running gag of Lemon judging everyone’s moral character based on Thomas the Tank Engine stickers could have been incredibly annoying. In a lesser script, it would be a "quirk for the sake of a quirk." But Brian Tyree Henry plays it with such sincere, deadpan conviction that it actually becomes a plot-critical emotional beat. It’s absurd, yes, but the film is so self-aware about its own absurdity that it works. Joey King also puts in a deceptively sinister performance as The Prince, leaning into the "gen-z sociopath" trope with a pink outfit and a fake pout that makes you want to see her get her comeuppance immediately.

A Neon Oasis in the Desert of IP

In an era where every third movie is a "Legacy Sequel" or a piece of a "Cinematic Universe," Bullet Train feels like a rebellious middle finger to the status quo. It’s an original adaptation (based on the novel Maria Beetle by Kotaro Isaka) that doesn't require you to watch six Disney+ shows to understand why the guy in the mascot suit is angry.

The production design is a feast. Since the movie was filmed during the height of the pandemic, the crew couldn't exactly hop over to Tokyo. They used "The Volume"—that massive LED screen technology popularized by The Mandalorian—to simulate the Japanese countryside whipping past the windows. It gives the whole film a slightly hyper-real, dreamlike quality that matches the "everything that can go wrong, will go wrong" energy of Ladybug’s mission.

There’s also a delightful "cameo-palooza" happening here. Without spoiling too much, David Leitch clearly called in every favor he had. Seeing Channing Tatum as a confused passenger or Ryan Reynolds in a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it frame feels like the movie is winking at you. It’s the cinematic equivalent of a high-end party where everyone is just a little bit drunk and having a blast. Brad Pitt is the perfect anchor for this; his "Ladybug" is essentially a man trying to do his Zen meditation while the world around him is a Michael Bay fever dream.

Stuff You Didn't Notice

Aaron Taylor-Johnson actually ended up in the hospital during a stunt sequence. He went on a "keto-diet-gone-wrong" and fainted, then sliced his hand open on a fight scene, resulting in an immediate ER visit. He was back on set the next day, which is the most "Tangerine" thing possible. The movie is a bit of a trade-off: Sandra Bullock appears here because Brad Pitt agreed to do a cameo in her film, The Lost City. The character of The Prince was originally a young man in the novel, but the gender-flip for Joey King adds a much-needed variety to the testosterone-heavy assassin pool. The film’s "bad luck" theme is actually mirrored in the production; they had to navigate strict COVID protocols that essentially turned the soundstage into its own isolated "train."

Bullet Train is the ultimate "Friday Night Movie." It’s a stylish, cynical, yet strangely optimistic R-rated romp that knows exactly what it is: a playground for great actors to behave badly. It doesn't redefine the genre, and it probably won't be taught in film schools twenty years from now, but it’s a masterclass in how to make a big-budget spectacle feel personal and punchy. If you like your action with a side of existential crisis and a heavy helping of British banter, find the biggest screen you can and hop on. Just maybe avoid the quiet car if you value your life.