Assassin Club (2023)
Director: Camille Delamarre
Screenwriters: Thomas Dunn
Starring: Henry Golding, Noomi Rapace, Sam Neill, Daniela Melchior, Jimmy Jean-Louis
Cinema asks a simple courtesy from its viewers: approach with an open mind. A film is the product of countless hours of effort from crews and cast members who often sacrifice personal time to bring a story to life. When it works, that effort can move us—making us laugh, cry, or consider new perspectives on life and society. Great films have the capacity to surprise and transform; they can ignite fresh thinking and emotional responses, and they can stay with us long after the credits roll.
Unfortunately, Assassin Club fails to deliver any of those gifts. Instead of eliciting wonder, it mostly inspires impatience and disappointment. The premise—Henry Golding’s character, Morgan, finds himself pitted against six other assassins who all have contracts on each other—sounds like it could be the foundation for a taut, tension-filled thriller. The “death game” motif has proved fertile in other works, such as the influential Battle Royale and darker takes in anime and serialized fiction that add inventive twists to the formula. Here, the concept is squandered rather than explored.
The film’s primary problem is its execution. Direction and editing leave the narrative feeling disjointed and incoherent. Scenes slide into one another with little rhythm, and action sequences rely heavily on handheld camerawork that obscures more than it reveals. Rather than adding urgency, the constant shake often disguises sloppy staging and makes it difficult to follow what is happening. Coupled with jarring cuts and uneven pacing, the result is an experience that rarely gives the viewer time to connect with characters or stakes.
On the script level, the film offers promising set-ups that are never satisfactorily followed through. Several plot threads are introduced and then abandoned; motivations remain murky and relationships feel superficial. Characterization is disappointingly thin. Many figures exist as archetypes rather than fully fleshed-out people—another missed opportunity, because in stories like this, moral ambiguity and deeper personal conflicts can make the difference between a cliché and a compelling drama.
Some of the film’s casting choices are notable on paper—established actors like Sam Neill and Noomi Rapace lend screen presence—but even capable performers cannot rescue material that gives them little to work with. Moments that might have benefited from deeper emotional beats are reduced to perfunctory exchanges. It’s understandable that seasoned actors sometimes take roles for pragmatic reasons, but that doesn’t change the fact that their talents aren’t put to effective use here.
It’s worth acknowledging the many professionals behind the scenes who contributed to the production—the crew members who handled lighting, costumes, locations, stunts, catering, and logistics. Their labor is the foundation of any film project, and their commitment deserves respect. Regrettably, the final product fails to reflect the breadth of their efforts.
Every film will have its defenders and detractors, but assessment must be honest. Assassin Club is let down by an array of avoidable choices: unfocused direction, choppy editing, underdeveloped characters, and an inability to make its central conceit compelling. It aspires to be a slick, modern thriller but stumbles into incoherence instead. For viewers seeking a thoughtful or exhilarating entry in the death-game subgenre, this one is unlikely to satisfy.
The only real consolation is that work on the film provided pay and experience for many professionals. Beyond that, however, the movie struggles to justify its existence on artistic grounds. If you prize coherent plotting, meaningful character work, or polished action choreography, Assassin Club is unlikely to meet those expectations. For the sake of cinema lovers who want films that challenge and reward, this is a rare misstep.
Score: 1/24
