The Unfulfilled Promise of Onslaught’s Carnage

Adam Wingard’s latest action-thriller, Onslaught, is a film that promises much but ultimately delivers little beyond a string of gruesome set pieces and some impressive technical craftsmanship. Having honed his skills on home invasion thrillers like You’re Next and The Guest, Wingard seems to have become enamored with his own toys, forgetting how to use them in service of a coherent narrative.

The film opens with vivid and unsettling images: exploding jack-o’-lanterns, a knife slicing through gnarled carrots, an elderly Nazi scientist crawling across the floor to lick someone’s stiletto. Each image feels like a promise – a promise that this will be a film that pushes the boundaries of what we expect from action cinema. But as the story unfolds, it becomes clear that Wingard is more interested in showcasing his technical prowess than in telling a compelling story.

The plot centers around Celeste (Adria Arjona), a former Army sniper with PTSD, and feels like a rehashing of familiar tropes: the gruff but lovable veteran, the traumatized protagonist, military experiments gone wrong. It’s a narrative that’s been done before, and done better, in films like Taken or The Hurt Locker.

The real problem with Onslaught is not its lack of originality, but its failure to live up to its own potential. Wingard has assembled an impressive cast, including Arjona, Reginald VelJohnson, and Eric Wareheim, who bring a level of depth and nuance to their characters that’s sorely lacking in the rest of the film.

One of Onslaught’s most striking aspects is its use of color – or rather, its lack thereof. The film’s palette is stark and clinical, a deliberate choice that heightens the sense of unease and dread. This technique recalls the work of directors like David Fincher or Denis Villeneuve, who use color to create atmosphere and mood.

But while Onslaught borrows from the playbook of its more successful cousins, it ultimately feels disconnected from the world around us. Its exploration of military horror and experimentation is timely and thought-provoking, but not fully fleshed out – perhaps because Wingard is more interested in showcasing his technical skills than grappling with complex themes.

Ultimately, Onslaught feels like a missed opportunity – a chance to create something truly original and thought-provoking, rather than simply coasting on familiar tropes and technical wizardry. As we watch Celeste fight for her life against an army of super-soldiers, it’s hard not to feel that the film is more interested in providing us with a thrilling spectacle than engaging our minds or challenging our assumptions.

In many ways, Onslaught feels like a microcosm of our current cultural moment – a world where we’re constantly bombarded with images and spectacles, but rarely challenged to think critically about the issues that matter. It’s a film that promises much but ultimately delivers little, leaving us with more questions than answers and a sense of dissatisfaction that lingers long after the credits roll.

The technical skills on display in Onslaught are undeniable – from Nick Interlandi’s soundscapes to Oren Soffer’s cinematography, every aspect of the film is meticulously crafted. However, even the most impressive technical feats can’t compensate for a lackluster narrative.

Onslaught has all the makings of a truly great action-thriller: a complex plot, memorable characters, and timely themes. Yet somehow, it never quite coheres into something more than just a string of gruesome set pieces. The film’s exploration of military horror and experimentation is timely and thought-provoking – but not fully fleshed out.

The future of action cinema is uncertain, and films like Onslaught raise important questions about the genre’s reliance on spectacle over substance. Will directors continue to coast on familiar tropes, or will they begin to push the boundaries of what we expect from the genre?