Film Review: Assassin Club (2023) - USA / Italy
Rating: 5/10
2025 Review Count - 47
Support my goal of writing one film review per day in 2025 - https://www.patreon.com/neofilmreviews
Reviewed by Andrew Chan (Film Critics Circle of Australia)
Tagline: “Assassin Club” is the cinematic equivalent of a fast-food burger—filling in the moment, but leaving no lasting flavor. Golding’s performance is the secret sauce, but even he can’t disguise the stale buns.
In “Assassin Club”, director Camille Delamarre serves up a dish reheated from the action-thriller leftovers of yesteryear—a plate of clichés seasoned with gunfire, double-crosses, and the inevitable “one last job.” The film’s saving grace, and it’s a considerable one, is Henry Golding, whose magnetic presence slices through the fog of mediocrity like a blade. He’s not just the star here; he’s the life support system for a story gasping for originality.
Golding plays Morgan Gaines, a brooding assassin with a heart of gold (naturally), torn between his lethal vocation and a longing for domestic calm with his girlfriend Sophie (Daniela Melchior, underused but earnest). The script, by Thomas C. Dunn, checks every box in the genre playbook: shadowy benefactors, a rogue’s gallery of rival killers, and a conspiracy that unravels with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer. Yet Golding injects Morgan with a weary humanity that almost makes you forget you’ve seen this all before. His physicality in fight scenes—fluid, urgent, tactile—contrasts beautifully with moments of quiet vulnerability, as if he’s channeling the ghost of a better movie trapped inside this one.
Noomi Rapace, as the duplicitous Falk/Agent Vos, does what she can with a role that demands more scowling than depth. Her icy menace is compelling, but the character’s motivations remain as opaque as the film’s murky European locales. Sam Neill, meanwhile, phones in authority as Caldwell, though one wonders if even he lost track of the plot’s labyrinthine twists during filming. The script tosses in betrayals, secret identities, and a MacGuffin involving a deceased patriarch, but these elements clutter rather than complicate, leaving the audience adrift in a sea of “wait, why is this happening?”
Delamarre’s direction prioritizes style over substance—glossy drone shots of cobblestone streets, frenetic car chases, and close-quarters combat that’s competent but forgettable. Yet the film lacks the visual panache or narrative urgency to distinguish itself in a genre crowded with *John Wick* imitators. Even the final showdown between Morgan and Falk feels weightless, a collision of inevitability rather than catharsis.
What keeps “Assassin Club” from flatlining is its lead. Golding, a actor capable of radiating both charm and gravitas, elevates every scene he’s in. A late moment where Morgan fakes his own death—stumbling through a forest, bloodied but unbowed—hints at the pathos this film might have explored with bolder writing. Instead, we’re left with a climax that resolves like a shrug, followed by a postcard-perfect ending in Porto that feels less earned than obligatory. (Neo, 2025)
#AssassinClub #CamilleDelamarre #HenryGolding #NoomiRapace #DanielaMelchior #SamNeill #JimmyJeanLouis #ActionThriller #MovieNight #FilmReview