‘War Machine’ (2026) Netflix Movie Review - Chunk of Metal vs Chunk of Meat

There are some movies—actually, most movies released nowadays directly on streaming services—that can be watched and understood completely even if you are half-asleep. Such movies don't invite you to be an active participant. They are so simple in terms of their plots, their characters, and their aesthetics that you are able to grasp them without constantly looking at the screen. The screen, of course, is riddled with clichés of all kinds, which makes it easier for you to connect the dots in your mind without engaging with the story. It's depressing that filmmakers are actively making movies that have a shelf life equal to the length of an Instagram reel. You forget most of what you have seen long before the end credits. And what happens after the end credits? The movie blurs in your memory. It becomes indistinguishable from other stuff sitting in the streaming library.

Patrick Hughes's War Machine is one such film. It doesn't even pretend to give its characters a distinct identity, choosing instead to mark them with numbers like 7, 57, and 60. They are the final recruits of an Army Ranger selection course, but they are treated like disposable trash from slasher movies. The bloodthirsty killer doesn't wear a creepy mask or stalk them with a knife. Instead, the monster is an alien machine that looks like a hunk of steel. This very tall, very intimidating mechanical weapon disrupts the compass and chases its targets ruthlessly. This huge chunk of metal is set against a huge chunk of meat. I am obviously referring to Alan Ritchson, whose character, 81, suffers from the trauma of a past tragedy. Characters like these derive their strength, purpose, and energy from their mental trauma at the appropriate time. I guess this means it's okay to be mentally unstable. You get to brood; you get to overpower someone a thousand times your size.

The Reacher series has made it clear that Ritchson cannot just land a smooth punch; he can also act competently. What he's required to do in War Machine is something he can do in his sleep, which is what it really looks like. This is Ritchson in his default, comfortable setting. He doesn't do anything that makes you sit up straight in your seat. If you are here for Ritchson's muscles, then Reacher might be a better option for you than War Machine. Hughes wastes both the man and the machine. He isn't able to work up a tense, primal mood to give this material a kick. Every image falls flat; every scene drives you to sleep. The movie is nothing but Ritchson's 107-minute felicitation ceremony. His 81 is awarded the US Army Ranger Regiment Scroll on screen. The actor, meanwhile, is congratulated for being...impressively fit. Look how he walks through water while holding heavy dumbbells. Look how he swims against the tide. Look how he dominates an alien enemy. Every machine might have its limits, but Alan Ritchson is a war machine who keeps going. Here is a man who has no limits.

Final Score- [2/10]
Reviewed by - Vikas Yadav
Follow @vikasonorous on Twitter
Publisher at Midgard Times