The idea behind Motor City, directed by Potsy Ponciroli, isn’t new in cinema. The notion of telling an action movie with practically no dialogue, moving the story forward through mise-en-scène and going from one action sequence to another while allowing the viewer to fill in the blanks, is an exercise with many precedents. Think of Melville’s Le Samouraï (1967), or Boorman’s Point Blank, released the same year. If we want a more recent example, we can look at Nicolas Winding Refn’s Drive (2011). All of them are action thrillers where economy of dialogue becomes a common denominator.

There is, however, a distinction to be made between those earlier references and Motor City. Ponciroli’s approach is closer to a music video, with editing anchored in the music and a constant use of slow motion to emphasize the action. There is little here in terms of creating a backstory that can support its characters, but that is not necessarily the film’s objective. While Melville, Boorman, and Refn seek to explore the psychology of their protagonists, this film is entirely dependent on action. From that starting point, Motor City is effective, delivering a frenetic action adventure that manages at times to overcome the shortcomings of its script and deliver some very well-executed sequences.

Alan Ritchson, with his imposing physique, fits the role of a man seeking revenge regardless of the consequences. He is the silent hero, carrying a restrained fury that is ready to explode at any moment, with extraordinary skills in hand-to-hand combat and with weapons. This gives us the John Miller portrayed effectively by Ritchson. In the vacant niche of modern action heroes, this powerhouse is a viable candidate.

Motor City is set in 1970s Detroit. We follow John Miller, a man we know very little about, who is framed by a powerful gangster and a corrupt police officer and sent to prison. His only goal is to get out and seek revenge. The film’s greatest strength lies in its elaborate action sequences, particularly those that build toward the climax. The most brutal comes near the end, when Miller confronts one of the film’s central antagonists in an elevator. At that moment, the director displays the best of his talent and creates a sequence that is not for the faint of heart.

Motor City attempts to compensate for its lack of depth with stylish and extravagant action sequences and dynamic editing. Alan Ritchson moves forward like an unstoppable force, while the mise-en-scène takes precedence above all else. The film understands its priorities, but the exercise is not always effective, leaving us with an uneven yet impactful work.