PR in the Philippines

(SeaPRwire) –   John Creasy (portrayed by Yahya Abdul-Mateen II) is desperate for a lifeline. A former Special Forces mercenary of exceptional skill, Creasy lost his entire team during a high-risk mission in Mexico City, and their deaths weigh heavily on his conscience — his severe PTSD is so intense that he sleeps with a bag over his head, as if to block out the sensory reminders and memories of the world around him. Ever since A.Q. Quinnell’s 1980 thriller novel was published, John Creasy has been known as the “man on fire,” but before he’s pulled back into action, that fire smolders within him, consuming him from the inside out.

In Netflix’s new TV adaptation of Man on Fire, redemption comes in the form of Paul Rayburn (Bobby Cannavale), an old comrade from Creasy’s Special Forces days who lives with his young family in Rio de Janeiro. Paul’s security firm has been hired to protect President Carmo (Billy Blanco Jr.) from terrorist attacks, but Creasy’s true test of character is yet to come — a catastrophic explosion destroys a Rio skyscraper, witnessed only by Paul’s now-orphaned teenage daughter, Poe (Billie Boullet). Creasy swears revenge on the bombers while taking on the role of Poe’s protector. Though he operates as a distrustful lone wolf, he soon finds himself relying on local favela residents like taxi driver Valeria (Alice Braga) and the awkward young Livro (Jefferson Baptista) to keep Poe safe.

Even in its basic setup, Netflix’s Man on Fire differs from both the novel and the 2004 film version directed by Tony Scott and starring Denzel Washington. Scott moved the book’s action from Italy to Mexico City (the only adaptation set in Italy is an obscure 1987 film featuring Scott Glenn), and the series’ prologue depicting Creasy’s failed Mexico City mission is showrunner Kyle Killen’s clear nod to Scott and Washington’s legacy. However, stretching Quinnell’s core story into seven episodes causes Man on Fire to sacrifice the narrative’s ominous and primal potential.

It might surprise you to learn that this latest adaptation of a novel about a burnt-out bodyguard who redeems himself by rescuing a kidnapped girl doesn’t actually include her kidnapping. Poe’s life is definitely at risk, but after the skyscraper bombing, Man on Fire focuses on Creasy protecting Poe from attempts on her life while seeking revenge for his friend. The story methodically addresses key questions: Is Poe safe in Rio’s favelas? What motivated the bombing? Will the ever-vigilant CIA (represented by Scoot McNairy as veteran agent Henry Tappen) interfere with Creasy’s mission? But without the raw, pervasive tension of a kidnapping plot underpinning these subplots, Man on Fire feels scattered, at least until it gains momentum in its later episodes.

This fresh take on the material isn’t a total misstep — after all, Scott’s Man on Fire is at its best when Washington’s Creasy befriends young Pita (Dakota Fanning) before her kidnapping. By aging up the at-risk daughter and keeping Poe close to Creasy throughout the series, Killen uses the extra runtime of a TV show to deepen her perspective. Boullet delivers a confident, affecting performance as a character who isn’t afraid to call out Creasy on his self-destructive impulses, and she’s the one who realizes Creasy’s reluctance to open up stems from the same reason she wants his friendship: they’re each other’s final connection to Rayburn.

Abdul-Mateen plays Creasy as a man teetering on the edge, caught between rage and paralyzing anguish. His performance becomes more rewarding when Creasy has to improvise a covert operation to hunt down the bombing culprits — when Creasy sets traps and sneaks around hotels to uncover his enemies and their secrets, his clever Bourne-like maneuvers are layered with a brooding intensity that plays to Abdul-Mateen’s strengths as a leading man. The more we see this side of Creasy, the better Man on Fire gets; the final three episodes are where the show hits its stride, with plenty of subterfuge and infiltration antics for Creasy and his unlikely local allies, building smoothly toward the story’s surprise reveals and hard-hitting climax.

As an actor, Abdul-Mateen seamlessly transitions between film (Candyman, Ambulance, Aquaman) and television (Wonder Man, Watchmen). But the same can’t be said for Man on Fire. The series sometimes feels unprepared for its extended action and stunt scenes, as several VFX shots have the flimsy, unconvincing texture of pre-vis storyboards. The camerawork lacks confidence, leaning into Netflix’s bland, clumsy house style — even though it features a blockbuster director in its lineup: Steven Caple Jr., known for Transformers: Rise of the Beasts and Creed II.

Instead of the disorienting freneticism of Scott’s experimental editing, the streaming version of Man on Fire has no visual imagination at all; each scene directed on autopilot drains the story’s danger and intensity. The visual dynamism and tight pacing of 2000s-era studio action movies would greatly benefit Netflix’s Man on Fire, as the show does little to complicate its simple character conflicts and is filled with awkward, redundant dialogue that’s sure to make even Netflix’s “second screen” audience wince.

Scott’s Man on Fire is a major entry in Washington’s action career, but it’s far from perfect — Creasy’s vengeful quest through Mexico City’s seedy corners occasionally feels stilted, and the script lacks the complexity of Scott’s stylish visual design. Still, in Washington’s hands, Creasy is a wounded, volatile Angel of Death, whereas Netflix’s Man on Fire often struggles to give its likable but disposable ensemble meaningful things to do.

In Scott’s film, Creasy’s isolation is part of what drives his redemptive mission, but to fill the expanded scope of a TV series, the new version gives Creasy too much support, undermining the premise’s action-hero-out-of-water tension. (Maybe Man on Fire and Friends is a more fitting title?) Even after it mostly finds its groove, this man on fire was never truly ablaze.

Man on Fire is streaming on Netflix now.