There’s always the impulse to write something like “best of the year” or “best in recent years” when describing an action film. With The Furious, there’s really no way around it: former choreographer Kenji Tanigaki gives us some of the best action scenes I have ever seen in a movie. Ever.
It is built around a simple but effective story of a mute father, whose young daughter is kidnapped by human traffickers, pushing him into battle against an entire system. As he goes into his chase and discoveries, he pairs up with Navin, a journalist also fighting the network while searching for his wife, who vanished just as she was about to expose those behind the scheme. With their forces combined, the two set out to take on the group, leading to a barrage of wild, inventive fights that turn the film into an adrenaline pumping, breathless spectacle.
To put it in perspective, all action films rarely hold my attention for long. As creative as a John Wick entry can be, they eventually blur into noise for me, and there comes a moment where I am only watching choreography rather than feeling tension and the stakes of the protagonist being at risk. The Furious does not escape that entirely. I think the 113 minutes start pushing it in the second half, but the highs are so outrageous that you forgive the extra indulgence. They earn it after delivering so many sequences that leave any other action set piece from Hollywood this year in the dust.
Motorcycle chases, motorcycle duels, a foot race against a moving truck, a brutal fight with a sledgehammer inside a freezer full of ice blocks, and a climactic five-way showdown. This is action cinema at its peak. Every element is maximized: jaw-dropping stunt work, sharp sound design, performers who sell both the pain and the thrill, a score that ratchets up the intensity, and a director who knows exactly how to orchestrate it all. These set pieces, along with dozens more, constantly surprise with their variety and invention. And they are anchored by two charismatic leads who, like their characters, convince us they have been doing this for years, making us feel every hit they take while also selling us on their ability to bring down men twice their size.
When I reviewed Motor City at the same edition of TIFF, I criticized it for lacking style and intensity to justify its dialogue-free approach. The Furious proves the opposite point, because so much is communicated through its fights that the film could have used even less dialogue. The choreography, the editing, the rhythm, they already tell us everything we need to know about these characters. The problem comes with the decision to dub performances in English for international reach. The dubbing itself is not good, and if the choice already risks immersion, the way it is executed at times borders on unintentional comedy. A truly unfortunate misstep. Like its protagonist, the film would have been stronger had it embraced silence while keeping its intensity.
With a few surprises from its younger cast, villains who feel genuinely despicable, and action that will knock your socks off, The Furious comes tantalizingly close to being a masterpiece. If it had been shorter, leaner, and less talkative, it most certainly would have been one.
This is part of Reviews On Reels TIFF 2025 Coverage. Due to the hectic rhythm of a film festival, it may be tweaked in the future.
Still courtesy of TIFF.