Tag Archives: Alan Ritchson

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Runner

by George Wolf

When all the running is done, Runner ends up caught in a movie limbo that is very 2026. If this has gone direct to streaming, it would rate above average among some less than stellar action romps. But among big screen releases, the latest from Angel Studios feels more like a passable but forgettable reach.

And yes, entertaining in its 97 PG-13 minutes.

Alan Ritchson stars as Hank Marlowe, a former military badass who “doesn’t hurt people anymore.” He’s a got a haunted past, a one year sobriety chip and a job in Australia as a “runner” who can deliver important packages such as priceless parakeets to various clients and destinations.

So even though he’s not hankerin’ for some action, action finds Hank when Ben Bishop (Owen Wilson) arrives with a very valuable asset. It’s a human liver meant to save the life of a seven year-old girl, and Ben will be serving as chaperone on Hank’s mission of mercy.

The mission get messy when a cartel kingpin (Rodrigo Santoro) comes calling. Turns out the girl and the liver share a rare blood type with the kingpin’s mother, who has a surgeon on standby waiting to perform her own life saving surgery.

As you might guess, Hank’s vow of non-violence gets thrown out the window alongside plenty of henchmen and bad guys.

Director Scott Waugh – a former stuntman – choreographs some decent actions sequences that cater to Ritchson’s size, physicality and understated charisma. Wilson is on auto pilot as the awkwardly enthusiastic comic relief, with the script from Miles Hubley and Tommy White conjuring moments of good natured rapport among some common action comedy beats.

It’s all a bit familiar and silly, and definitely guilty of too many bland, off- brand needle drops. But Ritchson and Wilson make their mismatch work well enough, and the film finds a groove of goofy fun that actually seems respectful of its audience.

So while Runner might be punching above its weight class, Ritchson is the perfect hero to put up the dukes and blow up some stuff while Wilson is quick with a quip. It ain’t quite art, but it’s not another streaming pile of algorithm, either. And if that’ll do, then enjoy.

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Shut Up and Plot Your Revenge

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Motor City

by George Wolf

Man, if you can hang with Motor City for about an hour and fifteen minutes, you’ll get one damn fine action sequence. Suddenly violent, increasingly bloody and eventually downright grisly, it’s an impressively choreographed and well shot set piece.

It’s also curious, considering the film surrounding it is a pretty tedious exercise in navigating a needless hurdle of its own making. And needle-dropping some sweet 70s hits.

The theme is simple enough: revenge. Ex-con John Miller (Alan Ritchson) is on probation and trying to toe the line in 1977 Detroit. He pops the question to his honey Sophia (Shailene Woodley) and things are looking up. But then Sophia’s gangster ex-boyfriend Reynolds (Ben Foster) frames John with a staged drug bust, and back to the slammer he goes.

So how does director Potsy Ponciroli (Old Henry) refresh the familiar idea from writer Chad St. John? By crafting Motor City as a nearly dialog-free thriller propelled by mood and music.

That “nearly” is the first curious bump in John’s long road to payback.

The few bits of dialog that are here just end up drawing attention to how hard the film is trying to get credit for telling most of this story without words. And it just isn’t necessary. Scenes that should naturally have organic conversation do not, and the strain of keeping the silent device intact is just too obvious.

I mean, do it or don’t. Since there is some dialog, Ponciroli’s commitment to visual storytelling ends up feeling more gimmicky and forced.

Foster and Woodley are customarily fine, Ritchson continues to show raw talent and real charisma, and Pablo Schreiber makes a perfectly menacing henchman. The soundtrack choices from Jack White (who also has a cameo) are on point, too, which helps keep the boredom at bay when the story just takes too long getting down to business.

And though revealing just what derails the finale would be too much of a spoiler, the result is anticlimactic and just plain silly.

But man, that one elevator scene shows just how much action potential is wasted in Motor City.

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Ordinary Angels

by George Wolf

It’s understandable if Ordinary Angels seems familiar. Hilary Swank playing a tireless do-gooder in a based-on-true-events drama with a vaguely inspirational title is probably going to feel that way.

And while the film does rely on plenty of broad-brushing, it ultimately mines enough nuance to find some genuine feels, as well.

Swank plays Sharon Stevens, a hard-partying beauty salon owner in Kentucky who’s hoping one day to mend the relationship with her estranged son, Derek (Dempsey Byrk). While waiting at the grocery store checkout, a local newspaper story gives Sharon’s life new meaning.

Five year-old Michelle Schmitt (Emily Mitchell) has a rare disease and needs a liver transplant to survive. Her father Ed (Jack Reacher‘s Alan Ritchson), still hurting from his wife’s fatal battle with Wegener’s disease, is facing a mountain of medical debt while struggling to raise Michelle and her older sister Ashley (Skywalker Hughes) as a single parent.

After so much heartache, Ed admits to his mother Barbara (Nancy Travis) that he’s losing his faith. Could this hardscrabble hairdresser at their door be a Godsend? The few thousand dollars she raises from a salon fundraiser is a darn good start.

Two-time Oscar winner Swank is perfect for the role, even if the script from Kelly Fremon Craig (Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret) and Meg Tilly (the veteran actress with her first feature writing credit) doesn’t provide many edges, at least early on. Sharon is all “hush my mouth” spunk, smiling through her accent as she imposes her will on multiple situations and begins to feel interchangeable with similar characters from The Blind Side to Swank’s own Conviction.

Ritchson is fine and shares sweet chemistry with the two adorable young girls, though Ed also lacks the depth to move the character beyond any number of faith-based dramas following a basic heart string-tugging playbook.

Ordinary Angels does find a unique voice in the third act, when Ed’s patience wears thin, and Sharon is finally forced to confront the life she’s really trying to save. Plus, director Jon Gunn (The Case for Christ, The Week) moves away from the formulaic to develop some respectable tension when the call for Michelle’s life-saving transplant comes during a monster snowstorm.

That really happened, and the true story here does provide an inspiring example of the good that humans are capable of. No doubt we need that right now, and Ordinary Angels manages just enough extraordinary moments to please more than the choir.