Afterburn

There is a specific kind of heartbreak in seeing a $60 million price tag attached to a movie that seemingly three people and a confused Labrador saw in theaters. Afterburn is that movie—a high-octane, sun-scorched relic of the mid-2020s that somehow slipped through the cracks of our franchise-choked timeline. I watched this on my laptop while trying to ignore the fact that my neighbor was power-washing his driveway at 7 AM on a Tuesday, and honestly, the roar of the high-pressure water felt like a fitting 4D supplement to the chaos on screen.

Based on the Red 5 comic series, the film imagines a world where a massive solar flare has essentially "uninstalled" the Eastern Hemisphere. What’s left is a wasteland populated by mutants, pirates, and—because this is a movie—treasure hunters who specialize in "recovery." Our protagonist, Jake, played with a weary, blue-collar charm by Dave Bautista (Guardians of the Galaxy, Glass Onion), isn't looking for gold or water. He’s looking for the Mona Lisa.

A Stuntman’s Playground

If the name J.J. Perry rings a bell, it’s probably because you’ve seen him getting punched in the face or falling off a building in about a hundred different blockbusters. After making his directorial debut with the vampire-slaying Day Shift, Perry brings his "stunts-first" philosophy to Afterburn. In an era where we’ve become increasingly exhausted by "The Volume" and weightless CGI backgrounds, there is something genuinely refreshing about seeing real cars doing real flips in real dirt.

The action choreography is the main draw here. Perry doesn't just film a fight; he lets it breathe. When Dave Bautista goes toe-to-toe with Daniel Bernhardt (John Wick, The Matrix Reloaded), you can feel the impact of every throw. Bernhardt, playing a heavy named Gorynych, remains one of the most underrated martial arts actors in the business, and seeing him trade blows with Bautista’s massive frame is the cinematic equivalent of watching two semi-trucks collide in slow motion.

The pacing is relentless, almost to a fault. It’s a 105-minute sprint that rarely stops for breath. While the script by Nimród Antal and Matt Johnson tries to inject some world-building about the "solar flare" fallout, it mostly functions as a delivery system for the next set piece. I found myself wishing the film lingered a bit more on the eerie visuals of a radiation-scorched Europe, but the movie is too busy worrying about the next explosion to play travelogue.

The Cast of the End-Times

Dave Bautista continues to be the most interesting "wrestler-turned-actor" of his generation. Unlike his peers who often lean into invincibility, Bautista allows Jake to look tired. He plays the role with a specific kind of "I'm too old for this" energy that makes the ridiculous premise—finding the Rosetta Stone in a mutant-infested bunker—feel weirdly grounded.

He’s joined by Olga Kurylenko (Quantum of Solace, Black Widow) as Drea, a rival hunter who brings a necessary sharpness to the screen. Their chemistry is more "bickering coworkers" than romantic leads, which fits the cynical tone of the setting. Then there’s Samuel L. Jackson, playing a character named Valentine. At this point in his career, Jackson has perfected the art of showing up, saying something incredibly cool, and collecting a paycheck. He’s essentially playing the post-apocalyptic version of Nick Fury if he traded the Avengers for a leather duster and a bad attitude.

The villainous duties fall to Kristofer Hivju as General Volkov. Fans of Game of Thrones will recognize that glorious beard anywhere, and he leans into the campy, scenery-chewing requirements of the role with terrifying enthusiasm. He understands exactly what kind of movie he’s in, which is more than I can say for some of the more self-serious "prestige" action films we've seen lately.

Why Did This Disappear?

The mystery isn't why the Mona Lisa is in a bunker, but how a movie with this much pedigree and budget ended up with a box office return that wouldn't cover the catering bill on a Marvel set. Afterburn is a victim of the "dump and run" strategy that has plagued contemporary cinema. Between shifting release windows and a marketing campaign that seemed to exist only in a few targeted Instagram ads, the film was practically buried alive.

It’s a shame, because while Afterburn isn't a masterpiece, it’s exactly the kind of mid-budget "B-movie with an A-list budget" that we claim to miss. It doesn't want to start a cinematic universe. It doesn't have a post-credits scene setting up a spin-off about Jake’s childhood dog. It just wants to show you some cool stunts and tell a story about a guy trying to save art in a world that has forgotten how to look at it.

The cinematography by José David Montero makes the most of the European locales, using a high-contrast, saturated palette that avoids the muddy "greyscale apocalypse" trope we saw so much of in the 2010s. The world of Afterburn is bright, dangerous, and looks like a comic book panel that someone set on fire.

Afterburn is a loud, silly, and occasionally brilliant showcase for what happens when you give a legendary stuntman a pile of money and some heavy machinery. It’s a "popcorn movie" in the truest sense—designed to be consumed quickly and enjoyed for the craft on display. If you can find it on a streaming service or a dusty digital shelf, grab some snacks and give it a look. It’s better than its box office would lead you to believe, and honestly, the world could use a few more movies that prioritize a well-timed punch over a convoluted plot.