By There’s been a growing trend in modern films to have stories spread out either across multiple installments or to make a single film the longest possible film it could be. Some of that is because of the success Marvel has had with the MCU, with almost every studio trying to launch its own version of that serialized franchise. Another bit is because of streaming services, which typically pay out by minutes watched, regardless of quality, which has led to storytelling becoming bloated. Even previously taut action series like Mission: Impossible have drifted close to the three-hour mark, dragging out what should be a relatively simple premise to mythologize its main character and overexplain every damn detail because the writers believe the audience isn’t smart enough to put the pieces together.
Not Tornado.
Coming from writer/director John Maclean, Tornado hearkens back to the days when a 90-minute action thriller was considered the perfect length. This is a film with basically no fat that throws the audience into the thick of things, employs a “show, don’t tell” backstory segment, then concludes with some furious action. Maybe it doesn’t set the world on fire, but it feels like a breath of fresh air against films that keep growing in length without understanding the basic tenets of storytelling. Even with some faults, I can’t say that I was displeased.
Tornado
Director: John Maclean
Release Date: May 30, 2025 (US Limited), June 13, 2025 (UK)
Rating: R
To honor Tornado’s brevity, I’m not going to bloat this review out with much explanation. Set in the British Isles in 1790, Tornado follows the struggles of a young Japanese woman trying to survive after attempting to steal gold from some ruthless bandits. Named Tornado (Kōki), she and her father Fujin (Takehiro Hira), are traveling samurai who perform with a traveling theater troupe. Wishing for a better life, she takes gold from Sugarman’s (Tim Roth) gang and is quickly found out by Little Sugar (Jack Lowden), Sugarman’s son. From there, the film becomes an elongated chase sequence broken up by a backstory arc before concluding in an action-packed showdown.
More than its performances or even action, Tornado is carried by its striking cinematography. Filmed on location in Scotland, cinematographer Robbie Ryan (Marriage Story, Poor Things) is able to capture a desperate and barren mood that propels the similarly bleak story. This isn’t a film about heroes overcoming evil, but one where children are pushed to commit petty crimes in an attempt to give themselves a better life. In fact, the inciting incident isn’t even committed by the titular character, but by an unnamed young boy (Nathan Malone) who can’t be older than 10. This is a lawless land where stealing is a key component of survival, whether you want to accept it or not.
This is typified by Sugarman, who leads his gang of ne’er-do-wells through intimidation and violence. With the film beginning en media res, we see Tornado hiding in a house to escape her pursuers, only for Sugarman to begin beating one of his followers to find the girl. When he enters the house, he berates the homeowner and shoves his men around, demanding they get their act together. It seems the only way to eke out a living here is to be more brutal than everyone else, lest you become the whipping boy.
© IFC Films
That’s also paralleled by Tornado’s past, which is explained in the second act of the film. To avoid major spoilers, let’s just say her relationship with her father is contentious at best. She isn’t satisfied being a traveling performer, but her father tells her to maintain composure and practice patience. You can tell he’s trying to build her strength not through embrace, but with cold determination, just like the world around them. When there is no law to save you, who else will you turn to but your own ferocity?
That said, there isn’t too much depth to the proceedings in Tornado. I might be talking this film up like it’s a modern action classic, but if you’re looking for the type of emotional weight that something like John Wick carried, it’s not here. In some ways, Maclean has written an old-school samurai story that teaches through virtue rather than humanity. I was actually reminded a bit of the Zatoichi films in that they only ever gave tidbits of their titular character rather than explained everything that happened to him. It was over the course of a long-running series that audiences were able to piece together who, and what, Zatoichi was, which led to the popularity of the character. Tornado seems tailor-made for something like that, with a possible sequel not being a direct follow-up, but another chapter in a tale that will eventually reveal who Tornado has become.
That said, there is a blending of samurai stories with Western sensibilities that is very appealing here. On sight alone, you’d never expect there to be a lick of Eastern influence, but Tornado is very much a Japanese woman. She can be headstrong and is mostly silent, but she lives in a world that isn’t her own. The way she carries herself doesn’t reflect the clothing she wears or the landscape she’s in. That seems to be a central theme of the film, with that dichotomy carrying the central conflict.
© IFC Films
As the only character with more than a few lines, Tornado needed a strong presence to portray her, and rising star Kōki is great. The daughter of acclaimed Japanese actor Takuya Kimura, Kōki channels some Meiko Kaiji energy with her stoicism and internal strength. She does spend a good portion of the movie in a position of weakness, but you can tell it’s burning a fire in her soul. She’s a great hook for the film, showcasing moments of weakness against brutality that get told with mere glances more than anything. Tim Roth is similarly devilish here, though this is a surprisingly more subdued turn for him. His bandit leader yells a lot and mostly sits in the background as his lackeys handle business, but that type of commanding presence is what makes him feel so sinister.
As time goes on and I get to ruminate on the film, I’m sure I’ll find more to enjoy about Tornado. For his part, director Maclean’s only other feature film is the similarly brief Slow West, which was released a decade ago. Having not seen it, I can’t draw any comparisons, but people were impressed with how that film managed to balance a bleak atmosphere against a similarly ambivalent hero to create a unique mixture of Western tropes with minimalist storytelling. Tornado is a continuation of that, just with some Eastern influence thrown in. Also, it has a dark sense of humor that I appreciate, especially since films like this tend to take themselves seriously.
When it comes to the action, it’s almost entirely contained in the final act, and honestly, it’s good. It has a catharsis to it that can only be achieved by proper build-up, but it’s also not overly choreographed or showy. It feels like a classic samurai movie, with quick bursts that get right to the point rather than drag things out to monotony. That’s truly the best way to describe everything about Tornado, because it understands that audiences want to get to the good bits instead of slogging through the nonsense.
© IFC Films
Let me put it another way: how would you describe a real-life tornado to someone? In my own words, I would describe it as a ferocious burst of speed, wind, and weather that leaves a path of devastation in its wake. Tornado, both the film and its titular character, are just that. The film rolls in, blows up the spot with intensity, solid pacing, and a flashy conclusion, before concluding just as the proceedings begin to teeter on being overdone. Maybe it’s short and lacking some depth, but I can’t fault a movie that leaves me wanting more when so many make me wish I could personally edit them down.
If nothing else, Tornado reaffirms something that I’ve always believed to be true: we need more 90-minute action films.
