Red Sonja – Film Review

The cinematic legacy of sword and sorcery epics has always been a tricky one. For every enduring success like Conan the Barbarian, there are countless films that crumble under the pressure of spectacle, pacing, and coherence. M. J. Bassett’s Red Sonja, adapted from Robert E. Howard’s character through Roy Thomas’ interpretation, enters this challenging arena with the ambition of reviving a long-dormant heroine. Unfortunately, while the film carries moments of striking imagery and a few commendable performances, it ultimately falls short of its promise. What results is a middling fantasy adventure—neither a disaster nor a triumph—that struggles to carve out its identity in a crowded genre.

The strongest asset of Red Sonja is undeniably Matilda Lutz in the title role. Known previously for her commanding presence in genre films, Lutz embraces the physicality and determination required to embody Sonja. She manages to carry a mix of vulnerability and ferocity, grounding the character even when the script weighs her down with clunky dialogue or questionable motivations. Whether in moments of introspection or the heat of battle, she sells the warrior’s pain and drive for justice.

Sonja’s arc—from childhood tragedy to reluctant leadership—has all the ingredients of a rousing, mythic tale. Her spiritual connection to the goddess Ashera, as well as her role as a protector of the natural world, lend the character an added layer of mysticism. The problem lies not in Sonja herself but in the uneven storytelling surrounding her.

The film struggles most with its pacing. Bassett sets the stage with a promising prologue, only to drag through long stretches of exposition-heavy sequences. The middle portion, revolving around Sonja’s capture and her time among fellow gladiators, feels drawn out, failing to strike the balance between character development and forward momentum. Too often, conversations replace action without delivering the necessary emotional heft.

When the action does erupt, it is handled with mixed results. Some sequences, particularly those in the gladiator arena, showcase creative creature design and a welcome sense of scale. Others feel overly edited, with choppy cuts undermining what could have been fluid, visceral battles. There is little consistency in how these moments are presented, creating the sense that the filmmakers were unsure whether to lean into gritty realism or heightened fantasy spectacle.

The antagonists, while conceptually intriguing, remain underdeveloped. Robert Sheehan’s Emperor Dragan is introduced with flashes of charisma but is never allowed to evolve into a truly menacing or layered villain. His quest for power through ancient knowledge is serviceable as a plot device but lacks the deeper motivations or philosophical underpinnings that might have made him memorable.

Wallis Day fares better as Dark Annisia, Sonja’s foil. There is genuine tension in the dynamic between the two warriors, and Day gives the role a feral intensity. Yet even Annisia suffers from an inconsistent arc, her inner conflict and loyalties often reduced to shorthand rather than explored in depth. The result is a missed opportunity: what could have been a compelling rivalry between two scarred women is instead relegated to brief flashes of brilliance.

The supporting players add variety but rarely transcend their archetypes. Michael Bisping’s Hawk and Martyn Ford’s Karlak provide physicality and intimidation, though neither is given much to do beyond menacing glances and brute force. Rhona Mitra and Veronica Ferres appear in the film as well, but their contributions are fleeting.

The ensemble of gladiator allies shows promise, suggesting a “ragtag band of misfits” angle that could have enlivened the story. However, these characters are given minimal backstory, and their camaraderie feels rushed rather than earned. In a film about unity against tyranny, this lack of depth undercuts the intended emotional payoff.

Where Red Sonja partially redeems itself is in its visual world-building. The forest setting, teeming with mystery and spiritual significance, is effectively realized. The contrast between the natural, untamed wilderness and Dragan’s technologically enhanced capital provides a compelling visual dichotomy.

Production design leans heavily into the pulpy roots of the source material, with elaborate costumes and exaggerated set pieces that recall the sword-and-sorcery heyday of the 1980s. Unfortunately, inconsistent CGI and uneven cinematography prevent the film from fully embracing its potential as a visual spectacle. Moments of grandeur are often followed by sequences that look flat or unfinished, creating a disjointed viewing experience.

One of the more interesting elements of the screenplay by Tasha Huo is its attempt to weave in themes of environmentalism and the corrupting influence of unchecked power. Sonja’s alignment with the goddess Ashera and her defense of the natural world provide a spiritual counterpoint to Dragan’s obsession with exploiting ancient knowledge for dominance.

These themes resonate on paper, but on screen, they are handled with heavy-handedness. The allegorical aspects are stated outright rather than integrated organically, leaving little room for subtlety. While the message is timely and relevant, its execution lacks the finesse needed to elevate the narrative beyond generic fantasy tropes.

Bassett has proven capable in genre filmmaking before, but here the direction feels torn between honoring the campy roots of pulp fantasy and striving for modern seriousness. The result is tonal inconsistency. At times, the film leans into mythic grandeur, while elsewhere it slips into near-parody with overwrought dialogue or melodramatic staging.

This tonal imbalance is perhaps the film’s greatest weakness. Audiences may find themselves unsure whether to embrace the story as high adventure or tongue-in-cheek escapism. A clearer commitment to one approach could have helped solidify Red Sonja’s identity.

Red Sonja is a film brimming with potential that never quite comes together. Matilda Lutz is a strong lead, and certain set pieces hint at the kind of pulpy, exhilarating adventure the film might have been. Yet structural issues, underdeveloped characters, and uneven execution prevent it from standing tall in the fantasy canon.

For longtime fans of the character, it may be gratifying simply to see Sonja headline her own film again. However, those seeking a fully realized, emotionally resonant epic may leave disappointed. Ultimately, Red Sonja feels like a film caught between two worlds: the colorful pulp traditions of its origins and the demands of modern fantasy filmmaking. In trying to serve both, it ends up only partially serving either.