Man On Fire (2004) – Review

Thanks to movies like Taken, the subgenre of formerly dramatic actors suddenly becoming indestructible avenging angels have become a regular sight when someone wants to bang out a quick, action epic. But while he sight of Liam Neeson growling out phone-based threats and brutalising slave traders quickly became an action staple, it may surprise you to realise that Dezel Washington did it first. Of course, most people know that he certainly made his name in the older action hero stakes by popping up in all three Equaliser movies, but in 2004 (four years before Taken) Tony Scott cast him in Man On Fire, a brooding thriller that dealt with many similar themes in slightly more cerebal ways.
Mostly avoiding the exploitation trappings that come with such a film, Scott and Washington found that their hard edged story didn’t hit with critics as much as it could of at the time, but has since been embraced by audiences as a fine slice of hard boiled cinema. But is the film truly on fire just as much as the man?

Boasting some truly unnerving crime stats, particularly concerning kidnappings, being rich in Mexico requires one to have specific insurance concerning this particular crime which plainly states that you have to have a bodyguard in order to get it. Cue washed up, alcoholic John Creasy who, despite an impressive career killing people for both the Marines and the CIA, has fallen from grace to the point where he’s genuinely considering taking his own life. Looking for work, his old buddy Paul Rayburn, convinces him to take on some bodyguard work for the money and before you know it, Creasy manages to find himself employed by wealthy automaker Samuel Ramos despite being incredibly open about his drinking problem.
His job is to protect Lupita Ramos, the whip-smart daughter of Samuel and his American wife, Lisa, but he makes it abundantly clear that he’s only here for work and aggressively resists any attempt from the little girl to make friends and open himself up. Of course, seeing as this is a Denzel movie, he ultimately does and bonds with her as he passes off life lessons in the form of help her how to discipline herself to be a better competitive swimmer – but before you know it, once Creasy is beginning to remember what it’s like to feel again, kidnappers swoop down and snatch Pita and despite blowing away for of them (two being corrupt cops), the bodyguard takes two bullets to the chest and is unable to save her.
Believe it or not, it gets worse. As Creasy slowly recovers in hospital, the authorities botch the $10 million ransom drop and when the ringleader’s nephew is cut down in an ambush, all reports suggest that little Lita has been murdered as punishment. Rising from his bed, Creasy, with Lisa’s blessing, goes out into the world to take brutal vengeance on those responsible in a myriad of inventive ways, but will a mixture of gunfire, explosives and weird butt-stuff mansge to get the job done when he’s still nowhere near 100%?

I have to say, while the critics certainly got things wrong back in 2004, I’ve never really cherished this, the second of five collaborations between Washington and Scott as highly as some others do, but if you’re looking for some hard-edged revenge cinema that blends glossy and gritty in equal measure, Man On Fire still proves to be a pretty rousing shout. In fact, one of the most interesting things about it is that despite the fact that plenty of movies have taken a more exploitation heavy approach to this kind of material (including an earlier adaption of the source novel featuring Scott Glen), Scott tackles the material less with the ferocity of something like The Last Boy Scott and instead adds a more somber, reverential tone that weirdly falls more in line with The Hunger than any of the more overtly macho examples of Scott’s filmography. You can tell that the director is trying to make a “proper” movie by the way he draws out the first act to an impressive length to truly hit home that Washington’s burnt out killing machine is not only at his lowest ebb, but his eventual salvation doesn’t just magically happen overnight just because he meets a precocious nine year old who’s carrying an extra decade or three on her soul. However, while I’d argue that Man In Fire takes a little too long to get going, the moments between Denzel Washington and a frighteningly talented Dakota Fanning genuinely work, especially when he uses his expertise in firearms to train Pita not to be afraid of starting pistols when she’s racing in order to gain the edge. Adding to Creasy’s persona of being a proficient death dealer is the fact that Scott somehow mamages to somehow make him look 6 foot nine and built like a concrete wall even when he’s casually walking down the street.

Elsewhere, we have a supporting cast who technically wait in the wings in order to facilitate the main story. Christopher Walken plays best friend/hype man as he extravagantly bigs up his buddy much in the same way Richard Crena used to sell John Rambo and hearing Walken declare that “Creasy’s art is death” and that “He’s about to paint his masterpiece” is sime prime, wingman stuff. However, in the face of Washington’s rage, Fanning’s likability and Scott’s editorial gymnastics, everyone else fends to fade into the lushly shot backgrounds and even the normally dependable Radha Mitchell finds herself struggling under the weight of a shaky accent.
However, to counter this, Scott makes Mexico itself one of the characters and at times it feels like he’s entering into a more soulful phase more indicative of his brother Ridley; however, even though the vision of the country is that of a lawless shithole. Still, it works for the movie, and once all the set up is finally dispensed with, Scott switches to a more aggressive mode to properly encompass the revenge aspect and the plot really sells it because for almost the entirety of the film, we are operating under the grim assumption that Pita is actually dead. This ultimately is what seperates Man Of Fire from it’s more excitable peers, even when Creasy’s vengeance goes into more bizarre realms. Shotgunning off one guy’s fingers is one thing, but the whole scene where he interrogates someone after placing a small, but explosive device up his anus rightfully remains one of the most memorable moments of the flick – even if Scott treats the bomb-in-a-butthole gag with a surprising amount of class.

However, I will say this. As much as I recognise Man On Fire as a more thoughtful take on glossy revenge thrillers, that habit that Scott has of frenetically cutting in jarring little visual hiccups into his scenes soon starts to get a little irritating and I have to say, the alternate ending where Creasy revisits his butt-bomb trick may be far less poignant, but I found it weirdly way more satisfying, personally. Still, props have to be given to Scott by taking such a deep dive on the kind of plot that usually manages to far more with much less and while his janky editing glitches hint at his patience starting to fray, Man On Fire definitely earns it’s place in the pantheon of excitingly heavy handed acts of life-affirming surrogate parenting that involves putting a bomb up someone’s butt.
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