TL;DR: Tom Hardy punches through walls, people, and narrative coherence in Havoc, Gareth Evans’ long-awaited Netflix crime-thriller. It’s gritty, stylish, and occasionally brilliant in its brutality, but the storytelling stumbles over itself harder than a henchman getting roundhouse-kicked by a man with a death wish. Worth watching? Maybe. Worth remembering? Probably not.

The Hype Machine: Four Years in the Making

Let’s rewind to 2021. Netflix dropped that tantalizing announcement: Gareth Evans, the The Raid mastermind, was cooking up a new crime thriller with Tom Hardy in the lead. Action fans lost their collective minds. A match made in hyperviolent heaven, right? Fast-forward through pandemic delays, reshoots, and strike pauses, and Havoc finally lands on April 25, 2025.

It arrives not with a bang, but with a confused sort of thud — the sound of a script collapsing under the weight of its own ambitions.

The Plot (Sorta?): Welcome to Convoluted City

Hardy stars as Detective Walker, a guy who looks like he drinks bleach and regret for breakfast. He’s a classic burn-out: unshaven, unslept, and possibly unwashed. One night, a drug deal goes sideways, and suddenly Walker is crawling through the city’s criminal underbelly to find a politician’s missing son, clear his own name, and maybe patch things up with his estranged kid. Because, you know, stakes.

The tone? Think Sin City meets The Departed after an espresso bender. Everyone’s angry, twitchy, and drenched in rain. There’s a lot of narration. A lot of neon. And a lot of broken noses.

The Action: Brutal, Beautiful, But Chopped to Bits

Let’s get the good stuff out of the way: the action slaps. Or rather, pummels. There are moments of sheer, balletic carnage that evoke the raw energy of The Raid — like a club scene that’s a kinetic masterpiece of fists, chairs, and flying bodies.

But then… there’s the editing.

It feels like someone fed the fight footage into a blender. Evans’ usually crisp choreography is lost beneath a rapid-fire storm of cuts, CG enhancements, and weird filters that give everything a slightly artificial feel. At times, you’ll wonder if you’re watching a gritty thriller or a video game cinematic.

Worst offender? The nighttime truck chase. It should be epic. Instead, it feels like a QuickTime event from an early 2010s PS3 title. Tension: zero. Immersion: shattered.

Tom Hardy: The Glue Holding This Together

If Havoc stays remotely watchable, it’s because Tom Hardy gives it everything. His performance as Walker is pure, concentrated Hardy: brooding, unpredictable, and occasionally incomprehensible. Whether he’s interrogating a suspect or limping through another alley brawl, he commands the screen like a man possessed.

There’s a tragic edge to Walker, even if the movie barely explores it. Hardy implies character development in the way he winces, hesitates, or clenches his jaw. The script may not care, but Hardy does.

Supporting Cast: The Unsung Heroes

Jessie Mei Li as Ellie

Walker’s new partner. She’s the heart of the film, grounding scenes with emotional realism. Their dynamic never quite reaches buddy-cop gold, but it’s enough to offer moments of relief from the chaos.

Yeo Yann Yann as Gang Matriarch

Utterly captivating. She brings gravitas and grief in equal measure, her performance haunting even when the story forgets her.

Timothy Olyphant

A stylish scene-stealer with swagger for days. If Havoc had embraced his energy more often, it could’ve found the pulpy soul it so desperately needed.

Recycled Tropes and Narrative Potholes

Havoc wants to be gritty and profound. It ends up being a PowerPoint presentation of crime-thriller tropes: crooked cops, tragic pasts, mysterious debts, gangland betrayals. Every time it hints at something deeper, it swerves into another gunfight.

The pacing is relentless, which might sound good — but it’s relentless in the same way being stuck on a malfunctioning treadmill is. You’re moving, but it’s mostly panic and confusion.

Style Over Substance: Netflix’s Calling Card

Visually, Havoc is slick. Neon-soaked streets, dramatic shadows, and perpetual rain make it look like a lost Blade Runnerspinoff. The music pulses, the lighting shifts dramatically, and the atmosphere is thick with moody cool.

But beneath all that shine? Not much. There’s no core message. No emotional resolution. Just a high-gloss descent into violence with a side of fatherly guilt.

Final Verdict

Havoc is a stylish punch-fest that squanders its potential. It flirts with greatness but settles for noisy mediocrity. Hardy is magnetic, the action sometimes sings, and the supporting cast tries their best. But the script is muddled, the editing is frenetic, and the soul of the film is missing in action.

Would I recommend it? Sure, if you’re into bruised antiheroes and don’t mind sacrificing story for spectacle. Just keep your expectations in check and maybe pour a drink first.