'Onslaught' Review
- Connor Petrey
- 4 hours ago
- 4 min read
Release Date: 09/04/26 [Cinemas]
Genre: Action. Horror. SciFi. Thriller.
MPAA: Rated R.
Distributor: A24.
The Verdict: A Must-See
Some movies are just meant to be played loud. Onslaught, Adam Wingard’s new hardcore sci-fi action flick, is a movie that not only rattles the speakers in the auditorium where it’s playing but also seems to create new decibels to shatter. There are plenty of loud action movies, but this one hits harder. Onslaught’s production matches its tone, over-the-top in a way that emulates a very specific type of 80s exploitation flick. The gunshots are louder and more bruising, the Matthew Pusti techno-score pulses through the skin, and the barrage of F-Bombs in the dialogue stings the ears.
This intense, in-your-face attitude feels especially intentional for a director who is not only trying to pay homage, but flex his genre muscle. Wingard hasn’t been able to do that for a little while. He certainly delivered the goods with two Godzilla/Kong blockbusters, but was obviously constrained by studio projects meant to appeal to as many quadrants as age-appropriately possible. At his roots, Wingard is a genre savant, as evidenced by the early successes of thrillers like The Guest and You’re Next, as well as his frequent participation in the V/H/S horror anthology series. Onslaught is an imperfect but very fun and engaging return to those roots, a hard-R extravaganza.
Onslaught has a straightforward narrative but a not-so-straightforward personality. It would be fair to call it a cocktail of homages to many different concepts popular in exploitative cinema. If you need an easily hateable villain, a Nazi scientist is a good place to start. Dr. Hans Kammler, played by Wingard favorite Dan Stevens, is the kind of evil genius role that a character actor like Raul Julia would’ve devoured 40 years ago. Stevens is basically unrecognizable in layers of makeup, with snow-white receding hair and a milky pupil obscuring one of his eyes. Plucked from a graphic novel, he certainly looks like the kind of guy who would Frankenstein a few dead assassins into unfeeling, exceptionally lethal supersoldiers. Dr. Kammler’s work has been commissioned by a shadowy corporation, only represented by the handler Baylor (Michael Biehn, Kyle Reese himself), to create these zombie Captain Americas. When things go wrong and the three supersoldiers murder their way out of the secluded desert facility, there’s little shock.
Most rugged action flicks need a compelling antihero who we could credibly believe will survive a threat like this, and Wingard capitalizes on the rising star of Adria Arjona by casting her as his heroine. She plays Celeste, a former Army sniper whose residual combat trauma has left her wasting away in a middle-of-nowhere trailer park. She drinks herself silly and spends her mornings shooting up jack-o'-lanterns with her automatic rifles. Her daughter Daisy (Blake Kennedy), who can’t be more than 10 years old, is more of a well-adjusted adult than her mother. Ex-husband Griffin (Jacob Scipio) drops Daisy off with mom, who is none too pleased to have parenting responsibilities sprung on her.
He really chose the wrong time to bring the kid over to mom’s place. The supersoldiers, massacring innocents in a spree of domestic terrorism that is genuinely uncomfortable to watch, eventually make their way to the trailer park. From there, the film takes the shape of a trailer-trash Western, as Celeste desperately defends the home front and her daughter from these weapons. The supersoldiers have a great and immensely intimidating design. They look like roided vampires, stalking their prey in the night mist with glowing eyes. One of them is named “The Butcher” and is played by MMA star Alex Pereira, a casting choice that feels like a subtle nod to Arnold Schwarzenegger’s casting as the T-800. Another homage--the bandage that covers Celeste’s injured eye that makes her look like Snake Pliskin (there’s a lot of eye stuff in this movie, I’m realizing now).
Onslaught is a movie that clearly loves both the classics and the not-so-classics. It has a bit of prestige credibility as an A24 production, but often treats itself with the hardcore intensity of a midnight movie. There’s genuine drama in how we root for Celeste to protect Daisy, and there are hints of a movie that has actual things to say about the toll that warfare takes, how it hardens soldiers across generations. It is interesting to see the way that Celeste and the Vietnam vet Josiah (Reginald VelJohnson) look out for each other. They are two wounded soldiers from different eras, way above their pay grade, trying to survive the calculated tactical maneuvers that the supersoldiers use to smoke them out. This is old warfare versus the warfare of the future.
Onslaught only sort of works on those terms, but it’s only sort of interesting as a serious movie. There is a lot of camp at the heart of a film that opens with Dr. Kimmler crawling on the floor to lick the feet of his Nazi mistress (Rebecca Hall, another Wingard favorite). That and many other perversions are meant to get a chuckle out of the sickos who want the limits pushed. Onslaught does a good amount of that stuff, but it can’t pick a lane, and you can feel Wingard and screenwriter Simon Barrett trying to have it both ways. There’s a barely relevant side plot involving Cyrus (Drew Starkey), the fixer sent into the mess to clean it up. It’s a mostly useless character, but Wingard gives him an MDMA addiction that allows Starkey to channel his best Hunter S. Thompson impression. Onslaught is filled with contradictions like that, and somewhat bland archetypes that occasionally get to go a little nuts.
The film’s last twenty minutes don’t quite stick the landing, building to a violent conclusion that is only partially satisfying. Arjona is a good anchor for the film, and her impressive physicality covers up many of the script's inconsistencies. Despite not reaching its full potential, Onslaught makes up for it with just enough personality. Wingard brings enough flash to it, making it feel like the kind of cult gem you’d find in the Wal-Mart bargain bin (compliment).
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