‘War Machine’ Review: Alan Ritchson vs. a Very Big Alien Problem (Netflix)

At what may not be the ideal moment to watch a patriotic film about U.S. military training, War Machine opts for the best possible solution—or perhaps the only workable one in today’s complicated political climate: throw some extraterrestrials into the mix. The film, directed by Australian filmmaker Patrick Hughes (The Expendables 3, The Hitman’s Bodyguard), blends a contemporary war story with science-fiction spectacle. Think something along the lines of Starship Troopers—or Predator—but smaller in scale and with a visual style closer to the mecha tradition. Starring Alan Ritchson—best known these days as Jack Reacher—the movie imagines what happens when a routine military training exercise suddenly turns into an unexpected intergalactic battle.

The film begins in much more conventional territory. In Afghanistan—specifically in Kandahar—Ritchson’s character reunites with his brother (played briefly by Jai Courtney). The two vow to apply together for RASP, the Ranger Assessment and Selection Program, before their unit comes under violent attack. Amid the chaos, it appears the brother doesn’t survive.

Cut to two years later. Now alone, the protagonist shows up for RASP, the notoriously grueling eight-week selection process required to join the U.S. Army’s 75th Ranger Regiment. Quiet, withdrawn and clearly carrying the weight of severe PTSD, he’s assigned the number 81—everyone gets a number—and that’s how he’ll be known for the rest of the film.

The first third of War Machine (Note: not to be confused with the Brad Pitt film of the same name) plays like a classic military training movie, with Dennis Quaid and Esai Morales as two shouting, hard-nosed commanders who deliver every brutal cliché associated with this type of boot-camp narrative. The other recruits bond and interact, but 81 keeps entirely to himself. He doesn’t connect with anyone, yet he passes every challenge and survives each round of eliminations.

When the program reaches its final phase, however, the instructors want him out. His silence and emotional distance, they argue, make him unfit for the job. He refuses to accept the dismissal, and eventually they give him a task he clearly doesn’t want for the last and most demanding test: he must serve as team leader.

What none of them expect is that this final exercise—set in the Rocky Mountains and ominously nicknamed “the Death March”—holds a surprise of cosmic proportions. Earlier glimpsed on the televisions the recruits watch during training, a mysterious asteroid has been approaching Earth. No one quite knows what it is or where it might land; it has already broken into multiple fragments. As it turns out, at least one of those pieces chooses a rather unfortunate landing site: a U.S. military training exercise.

When the soldiers first encounter what looks like a cross between a Transformer and one of the giant mecha from Pacific Rim, they initially assume it’s just part of the elaborate final test. It quickly becomes clear that this is no simulation. The monstrous machine—an infernal piece of alien technology—starts killing them almost immediately.

War Machine is clearly presented as the opening chapter of a potential franchise: both an origin story for its protagonist and the beginning of a larger invasion narrative. Over the remaining stretch of its 109-minute runtime, Hughes’ film essentially follows 81 and the handful of survivors—including Stephan James and Keiynan Lonsdale—as they try to escape the mechanical nightmare while figuring out a way to destroy it, which proves to be anything but simple.

The movie rarely strays from that premise. For a long stretch, we learn nothing about what might be happening elsewhere in the world. At its best, the film works as a stripped-down action narrative with very little dialogue: essentially one relentless confrontation after another against an apparently indestructible machine.

Using cleverly staged faux long takes during the chase sequences—the mecha may be heavy but it moves frighteningly fast, while the Rangers eventually gain access to a tank—Hughes manages to give the film a steady, propulsive rhythm. It’s always in danger of becoming repetitive, but it avoids monotony thanks to a few narrative surprises and late-game twists. Logical coherence isn’t the screenplay’s strongest suit, yet much like his persona in Reacher, Ritchson plays the kind of action hero whose sheer physical presence makes it easy to believe he could survive even the most impossible scenario.

It may not be the most comfortable movie to watch at a time of escalating global conflicts, but there’s an audience for everything. The screenplay’s smart decision to avoid explicit references to real-world nations, wars or political factions helps keep the story at a certain distance from reality. Not always—there are moments when patriotic sentiment inevitably creeps in—but for the most part the film focuses on the troubled inner world of its damaged protagonist, turning the experience into something closer to a journey of personal redemption than a straightforward celebration of American military power.

Whether it will stay that way in future installments is another question entirely. One can hope.