Click here to follow Screen Digital on YouTube and stay updated with the latest from the world of cinema.

In a world where cinematic universes stretch thinner by the year and franchise fatigue lurks around every marquee, there is something oddly comforting about walking into a Jason Statham movie. You know what you’re signing up for: tight T-shirts, tighter punches, and the occasional, gruffly-delivered one-liners. With A Working Man, Statham returns in full force, playing a salt-of-the-earth bruiser caught up in a web of crime. The film, directed by David Ayer and co-written with Sylvester Stallone, is exactly what you expect, but not quite enough of what you hope.
Jason Statham has carved a corner in the action hero pantheon. If Tom Cruise is the daredevil philosopher-king of high-concept action, Statham is the neighbourhood tough guy who shows up with a steel-toed boot and unfinished business. He isn’t chasing immortality or IMF conspiracies, he’s just trying to live a quiet life. In A Working Man, his Levon Cade is a former special ops soldier-turned-construction worker who wants nothing more than to raise his daughter in peace.
The core plot kicks off when Jenny, the daughter of Levon’s boss (played by a surprisingly subdued Michael Peña), goes missing. Levon, reluctant but duty-bound, dives headfirst into the criminal underworld, unleashing a series of brutal takedowns that would make John Wick blink. The violence is visceral, the choreography functional but unremarkable. While there’s a certain satisfaction in watching Statham bulldoze his way through goons, there’s little inventiveness in the way it’s all stitched together.
Ayer, who previously gave us the bruising End of Watch and the scattershot Suicide Squad, brings a workmanlike quality to the direction here. The film never quite crackles, but it doesn’t fumble either. The pacing is taut, but emotionally, A Working Man feels like a flatline punctuated by action beats. There’s little room for levity, even less for introspection. This is a film that wants to be a character study but settles for a demolition derby.
At the emotional core is Levon’s relationship with his daughter, but it never evolves beyond the usual set of tropes. He’s trying earnestly, if a bit mechanically, to build a life with her. He lives out of his car, brushing his teeth in a parking lot and curling up in the backseat at night. She, meanwhile, stays with her maternal grandfather, away from the chaos he’s trying to escape. He sees her occasionally, makes sad eyes when he misses her, and carries the weight of guilt like a permanent shadow. You’ve seen it all before. These emotional beats are lifted from a playbook so dog-eared it might as well be laminated.
It’s time we acknowledged the Statham paradox. Here is a man whose physicality, screen presence, and fight IQ are nearly unmatched. He is, in many ways, Britain’s answer to Tom Cruise. He commits, he trains, and he carries an entire film on sheer charisma. But unlike Cruise, who surrounds himself with filmmakers who constantly reinvent the action template, Statham seems to inhabit a creative cul-de-sac. His films rarely surprise. They function more as showcases for his durability than explorations of character or theme.
There is no denying his appeal. He has a kind of anti-glamour charisma, an everyman edge that makes him a believable action hero. But watching A Working Man, one can’t help but wish he were handed a script with more substance, or perhaps even allowed to stretch into roles that challenge his established persona. Until then, we get versions of the same film: different day, same fury.
Michael Peña brings some pathos to a character that could easily have been a plot device. David Harbour shows up briefly, chews a bit of scenery, and disappears. The villains are cardboard cutouts, menacing only because the script tells us they are. There’s a subplot involving human trafficking that feels clumsily handled; it is not offensive, but certainly lacking nuance. One moment you’re watching a girl being held captive, and the next you’re in a barroom brawl scored like it’s the third act of a superhero movie. Tonal consistency is not the film’s strong suit.
And perhaps that’s the real frustration with A Working Man. It’s not that it’s bad. It’s that it never dares to be better. The ingredients are there: a leading man with gravitas, a director with a flair for grit, a story with emotional potential. But somewhere between concept and execution, ambition is traded for reliability.
A Working Man
A Working Man Cast – Jason Statham, Michael Peña, David Harbour, Jason Flemyng
A Working Man Director – David Ayer
A Working Man Rating – 2/5
Click here to follow Screen Digital on YouTube and stay updated with the latest from the world of cinema.