In War Machine, a Netflix original, not one but two war machines collide. The first is an unstoppable killing engine from another world, and the second is a US Army staff sergeant who just wants his unit to make it home alive. Since this is an action film, we know that won’t happen.

Alan Ritchson (perfectly cast) plays the unnamed human war machine. Two years before the main action of the movie takes place, he and his brother’s unit were ambushed in Kandahar, Afghanistan. Wounded, he tried to carry his brother back to base. The brother died, but he received a Silver Star. However, the honour continues to gnaw at him.

Physically recovered, he pursues entry into an elite ranger programme as a way to cope and redeem himself, because it was the last dream the two brothers shared. On his final attempt, he gets in and is assigned the number 81. (Rangers are not called by name, we learn.)

Though he aces every drill and outperforms every trainee, his superiors, Sergeant Major Sheridan (Dennis Quaid) and First Sergeant Torres (Esai Morales), aren’t impressed, as 81 isn’t a team player. He doesn’t bond, barely speaks, can’t sleep, and pushes himself until he collapses mid-drill.

Director Patrick Hughes keeps Netflix’s War Machine taut and entertaining and it is thoroughly recommended

Nearly dismissed by his superiors, he and his fellow trainees are sent on the final wilderness exercise, where an extra-terrestrial meteor crashes, carrying the alien machine. As the unit is cut down, 81 — wary of leadership and burdened by PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder) — becomes the only one capable of keeping the survivors moving — and alive.

Surprisingly, for a military man, 81 is a pacifist in terms of his instincts and a reluctant combatant. Unlike most action heroes, his reflex is to protect and evade to keep casualties low. That restraint becomes his most effective ammunition.

Ritchson, known for his work in and as Jack Reacher, is literally the hero of the film in every meaning of the word. Tall and rugged, he has the physicality of any 1980s or 1990s action hero, albeit with an inverted persona. Built like a tank, he plays 81 with a fragile soul. His voice is soft, unsteady, his hands tremble continuously and the viewer realises that this man is geared for defence, not offence. This is a masterstroke.

Director Patrick Hughes (The Hitman’s Bodyguard) keeps the pace taut. The screenplay, co-written with James Beaufort and Hughes, channels the no-nonsense drive of Predator and Aliens, though the sheen is updated with sleeker, new-age filmmaking tools.

That is where the film slips.

War Machine’s colour grading defaults to the bleached, teal-grey-leaning palette that has been standardised since Saving Private Ryan (1998). The look all but flattens its otherwise premium tool set. The film is shot on the top-of-the-line Arri Alexa 35 cinema camera with top-tier Angenieux, Cooke and Cauldwell lenses — believe me, this is as good as it gets, quality-wise.

The second problem is the alien machine’s design. The angular, humanoid design, with machine-gun turrets, missile launchers, and a laser cannon in the middle, looks like the generic version of battle mechs from video games, toys, and Saturday morning cartoons from my youth.

Still, like its opposing forces — one driven by grief and duty, the other programmed for annihilation — War Machine doesn’t stop, nor does it let the viewer flinch. Although it has a hopeful open ending, one wishes that the film doesn’t become a movie series, as things will only go downhill from here, because the good ammo is all used up in this fine, thoroughly recommended action film.

Streaming on Netflix, War Machine is rated suitable for ages 18 and over, because of the fatalities

The writer is Icon’s primary film reviewer

Published in Dawn, ICON, March 19th, 2026