Man on Fire Is A Dimmer Remake Of A Tony Scott Classic
Netflix’s TV adaptation of A.Q. Quinnell’s 1980 thriller novel is sadly lacking thrills.
John Creasy (Yahya Abdul-Mateen II) is in dire need of a lifeline. Once an incredibly skilled Special Forces Mercenary, Creasy lost his entire team on a risky mission in Mexico City, and their deaths weigh heavily on his conscience — the intensity of his PTSD makes him sleep with a bag on his head, as if to deny the senses and memory of the world around him. Since the publication of A.Q. Quinnell’s 1980 thriller novel, John Creasy has been the “man on fire,” but before he’s thrust back into the fray, that fire remains on the inside — and it’s burning him alive.
In the new Netflix TV adaptation of Man on Fire, redemption arrives in the form of Paul Rayburn (Bobby Cannavale), an old buddy from his Special Forces days, who lives with his young family in Rio de Janeiro. His security firm has been hired to protect President Carmo (Billy Blanco Jr.) from terrorist attacks, but the real test of Creasy’s mettle is yet to come — a Rio skyscraper is destroyed in a devastating explosion, witnessed only by Paul’s now-orphaned teenage daughter, Poe (Billie Boullet). Creasy swears revenge on the bombers while also assuming the role of protector for Poe. But despite operating as an untrusting lone wolf, he’s soon depending on local favela residents like taxi driver Valeria (Alice Braga) and the nebbish young Livro (Jefferson Baptista) to ensure Poe’s safety.
Even in its basic set-up, Netflix’s Man on Fire differs from both the novel and the 2004 film version, directed by Tony Scott and starring Denzel Washington. Scott moved the book’s action from Italy to Mexico City (the only adaptation that takes place in Italy is an obscure 1987 film version starring Scott Glenn), and the series’ prologue depicting Creasy’s botched Mexico City mission is showrunner Kyle Killen’s clear nod to Scott and Washington's legacy. But in extending Quinnell’s basics into seven episodes, Man on Fire sacrifices the story’s ominous and elemental potential.
It may surprise you to learn that the latest adaptation of a novel about a burnt-out bodyguard who redeems himself by rescuing a kidnapped girl doesn’t actually feature her kidnapping. Poe’s life is definitely at risk, but after the skyscraper bombing, Man on Fire focuses on Creasy protecting Poe from attempts on her life while seeking revenge for his friend. The story diligently asks and answers big narrative questions: is Poe safe in Rio’s favelas? What motivated the bombing? Will the ever-watching CIA (represented by Scoot McNairy as veteran agent Henry Tappen) intervene in Creasy’s mission? But without the blunt, pervasive tension of a kidnapping story underpinning these subplots, Man on Fire feels like it’s being pulled in too many directions, at least before it finds momentum in the back half.
This original spin on the material isn’t necessarily a non-starter — after all, Scott’s Man on Fire is at its best when Washington’s Creasy is befriending young Pita (Dakota Fanning) pre-kidnapping. By aging up the at-risk daughter and keeping Poe in closer proximity to Creasy throughout the series, Killen can use the extra time afforded by a series to deepen her perspective. Boullet gives a confident, affecting performance for a character who’s willing to call out Creasy on his self-destructive impulses, and she’s the one who identifies that Creasy is reluctant to open up for the same reason she wants his friendship — because they are each other’s final connection to Rayburn.
Abdul-Mateen plays Creasy as a man on the brink, suspended somewhere between rage and paralyzing anguish. His performance becomes more rewarding when Creasy must improvise his own covert operation to hunt down the bombing culprits — when Creasy sets up traps and skulks around hotels to draw out both his enemies and their secrets, his clever Bourne-like manoeuvres are underpinned with a brooding intensity that plays to Abdul-Mateen’s strengths as a leading man. The more we see this side of Creasy, the better Man on Fire becomes — the final three episodes are where the show hits its stride, with plenty of subterfuge and infiltration hijinks for both Creasy and his unlikely local posse, which build cleanly towards the story’s surprise reveals and bone-crunching climax.
Extending the story into a TV-show format does let the relationship between Creasy and his ward become more fleshed out.
As an actor, Abdul-Mateen is capable of splitting the difference between film (Candyman, Ambulance, Aquaman) and television (Wonder Man, Watchmen). But the same cannot be said of Man on Fire. The series sometimes feels unprepared for its extended action and stunt scenes, as several VFX shots have the flimsy, unconvincing texture of pre-vis storyboards. The camerawork lacks real confidence, opting for Netflix’s bland, clumsy house style, despite featuring a real blockbuster director in its line-up in Transformers: Rise of the Beast and Creed II’s Steven Caple Jr.
Instead of the disorientating freneticism of Scott’s experimental editing, the streaming version of Man on Fire opts for no visual imagination at all; each scene directed on autopilot saps away at the story’s danger and intensity. The visual dynamism and minimal wheel-spinning you’d find in a 2000s-era studio action movie would greatly aid Netflix’s Man on Fire, as the show does little to complicate its simple, clear character conflicts and is filled with clumsy, redundant dialogue that is bound to make even Netflix’s “second screen” audience wince.
Scott’s Man on Fire is a major entry in Washington’s action career, but it’s far from a perfect film — Creasy’s vengeful quest across the scuzzy corners of Mexico City occasionally feels stilted, and the script lacks the complexity of Scott’s stylish visual design. Still, in Washington’s hands, Creasy is a wounded, volatile Angel of Death, while Netflix’s Man on Fire frequently has to find stuff for the likable but disposable ensemble to do.
In Scott’s film, Creasy’s isolation is partly what propels his redemptive mission, but in order to fill out the broadened scope of the televisual medium, the new version gives Creasy too much support to sustain the premise's action-hero-out-of-water tension. (Maybe Man on Fire and Friends is a more suitable title?) Even after it more or less finds its groove, this man on fire was never truly ablaze.
