Man on Fire (2026)

A promising start of what could well find John Creasy (Abdul-Mateen) reprising his role as the PTSDing loner.

If you’ve seen political action thrillers of any stripe, you’ve seen at least a few of “Man on Fire’s” plot beats before. The key is that Killen, his writers, and his cast all enjoy the process so thoroughly that no amount of foreknowledge short of reading Wikipedia can fully spoil the experience of watching Creasy stay a step ahead of the bad guys while walking in lockstep with his demons.

Abdul-Mateen’s Creasy can get wooden at times and, thus, won’t clear Denzel Washington’s high bar with those familiar with the 2004 IP. But there’s no denying he’s put in the work to earn respect in his own right, especially with newcomers.

“Man on Fire,” created by Kyle Killen, is straightforward action entertainment, a traditional payback drama with generally clear-cut good guys and bad guys, once you sort them out.

“Man on Fire” might not venture into unknown narrative territory, but Mr. Abdul-Mateen puts an unapologetically anti-heroic spin on a movie cliché—the purveyor of justice—and makes him new. To some degree, the variations are what keep us intrigued. But there’s depth to the performances, too. And heat.

It occasionally feels like there are too many side characters for the show to successfully juggle, especially when their subplots borrow time away from the most interesting parts of the narrative, but none of them ever overstay their welcome. What Man on Fire does ultimately succeed as a showcase for, amidst the narrative's twists and turns, is Abdul-Mateen II's undeniable magnetism as both a leading man and an action star.

Netflix’s Man on Fire doesn’t do much to freshen up the revenge thriller genre, but Yahya Abdul-Mateen II’s John Creasy anchors the season with enough emotional weight and physical badassery to offset the show’s formulaic nature.

The show is different enough from what came before — and well-made enough — to justify its existence. Only by a little bit, but that's all it needs, because its ambitions are relatively modest.

The series relies heavily on Creasy being an indomitable force of revenge, but because we never really feel the weight of what he lost early on in the season, or get a sense of an attempt to struggle against his basest instincts, his actions wind up feeling like overkill rather than justice.

Not a patch on the Washington/Scott film, but a decent watch in its own right, with a formidable Yahya Abdul-Mateen II performance at its centre.

When it comes to expanding movies into (in this case) a seven-episode series, more can often be less.

The cast is sound, and the narrative is just as solid as any other in the genre. Yet, because the series never deviates from what is expected, it never rises to the level of being distinct or exceptional.

It’s not a non-stop cavalcade of action: it regularly relents for extended, talky scenes concerning Creasy’s instability or Poe’s grief. Sometimes the combination is powerful. .... Man on Fire’s glowering intensity is, however, hard to take seriously.

Mateen is excellent casting for this, as he is for pretty much everything he's done lately. There are isolated moments where you understand why someone might want to build a new version of this title around him. But some stories — many stories, it turns out, based on the number of similarly sluggish streaming dramas of the past decade — aren't meant to fill this many hours of filmed entertainment.

Emmy winner Yahya Abdul-Mateen II gives his all to a wincingly violent action series that simply doesn’t deserve him.

Stretching its source in ways that are unoriginal and insufferable, it stands as proof positive of this streaming strategy’s misguidedness.

Adaptations are meant to breathe new life into stories that once charmed or intrigued audiences, bringing them to new audiences. Instead of achieving this, “Man on Fire” unfortunately turns out to be another case of pondering the existence of an adaptation entirely.

It’s a weirdly upbeat, disappointingly bland set-up for an ongoing series about a damaged mercenary and his unlikely, poorly developed Scooby Gang. Accepted on those limitedly aspirational and rarely convincing terms, but few others, it succeeds.

Netflix’s “Man on Fire” tries to cop the movie’s scorched-earth attitude without justifying where it stems from. In doing so, it wastes its lead’s talents, and snuffs out its I.P.’s brightest embers. Any future remakes won’t be drawing from this fire.