‘Man on Fire:’ Violent and Unforgiving, but Features Both Denzel and Fanning at their Best

2004’s “Man on Fire” by Tony Scott features Denzel Washington mirroring roles we’ve seen before. “Flight” (for alcoholism) and “The Equalizer” spring to mind. But it’s important to note that Washington had not done these films yet; and this—a one-man-army actioner filled in with helpings of heart—is a good fit for him. At 2 hours and 26 minutes the film flows easily and never feels overlong. Denzel is extremely likable in the role of John W. Creasy—despite the character’s self-loathing and sadism—and his pairing with a young Dakota Fanning is warm and sweet. Yet somewhere in the story something is missing. The first half offers a glimpse of redemption to a man who believes he is unredeemable. It does this, ironically, through his kindness rather than his brutality. Yet much of the film then veers into violence. It stays there so long we almost forget the kindness that brought us there. 

“Man on Fire” feels gritty, taking place in Mexico City. Cinematographer Paul Cameron highlights the city’s beauty and decadence in equal measure. Creasy is hired by the Ramos family (Marc Anthony and Rhada Mitchell, respectfully) to be a bodyguard for their young daughter, Pita (Fanning), who has been kept home from school (which she loves) due to the fear of kidnapping. The Ramos’ are wealthy, and we learn from an opening caption that “there is a kidnapping every 60 minutes in Latin America.” I don’t know if this is true, but searches show Brazil to be the highest. At any rate, we see some abductions (usually in broad daylight and carried out by a man with gold-rimmed sunglasses) and Cameron and Scott sell the fear to us. Creasy interviews for the job with Pita’s father, Samuel. He looks at his impressive ex-CIA jacket and wonders how anyone could afford him. “I drink,” Creasy admits. 

A Broken Man

There’s a reason Creasy drinks—his past work—though we never see how dark it truly was. We gather it involved a lot of killing. His old friend, Rayburn (a reserved and excellent Christopher Walken) has a wife and lives a peaceful life. He tells Creasy he’s done killing, and as violent as the movie gets he keeps that promise. Creasy asks Rayburn if God will forgive them for what they’ve done, yet it’s rhetorical: Creasy has long given up on his soul, numbing himself with liquor yet he still reads his Bible. However, when he meets Pita, something happens. She’s spunky, inquisitive, kind, and intelligent. She pushes him to smile. Her parents (mostly her father) want a life for her she doesn’t want. She wants to swim and Creasy helps her excel at it by getting over her fear of the starting pistol. The point isn’t lost that violence is so palpable in Pita’s life that the gun has deeper significance. It has a deeper significance for Creasy, too: in a prior scene he put a gun to his head and pulled the trigger. It failed to fire. “Every bullet tells the truth,” Creasy tells himself and others for the rest of the film. 

It should go without saying that Pita is kidnapped, and Creasy’s failure to prevent the act wears heavily on his body and soul. He’s near death for the rest of the movie. But when Rayburn tells him something terrible may have happened to the girl (the ransom exchange went bad), Creasy—who was beginning to allow himself to live again—swears vengeance on all responsible. His relationship throughout the film with Pita’s mother, Lisa, is intriguing. She trusts Creasy and sees him as a human in a way her husband does not. When he tells her he intends to kill anyone who had anything to do with Pita’s kidnapping—the scene scored slyly by Harry Gregson-Williams—she simply responds, “you kill them all.” 

Fanning and Washington are Great Together

Scott’s film draws Creasy’s death quest in exquisite colors as he works his way through the guilty parties. His dispatchments reek of torture and sadism, but not in the realm of body horror or scary movies. Creasy’s detachment to the whole thing makes it seem that much worse. This is especially true as he questions that kidnapper with the gold-rimmed glasses (Mario Zaragoza) or a corrupt anti-kidnapping officer (Jesús Ochoa). Yet, amidst the whole thing, the moral, good-intentioned anti-hero Denzel would portray in “The Equalizer” isn’t present here. This is personal for him. It’s likely lost on Creasy that the damage he does to the kidnapping trade in the city in one weekend—while slowly dying due to bullet wounds from Pita’s kidnapping—may save many others from the same fate. The level of corruption Creasy unearths during his rampage is on par with the damage he does. 

Unlike most other “one-man army”-type movies, Creasy is not alone. He’s aided by a scrupulous journalist (Rachel Ticotin), who cares more about stopping La Hermandad—the group behind the kidnapping—than she values her own life. There’s also a detective, played by the great Giancarlo Giannini, who lends help to both her and Creasy. He agrees to stay out of Creasy’s way once he understands the man’s connection to Pita and his motivations. Also, the aforementioned Rhada Mitchell turns in a good performance, remaining an ally to Creasy. Perhaps only she understands Pita’s affection towards the broken man. I think this is the film’s most stark deficit: “Man on Fire’s” greatest moments are between Creasy and Pita, even the bitter, doleful end. Scott’s picture loses itself in its violence and retribution before working its way back to their bond and a final glimpse at the loving man the young girl unearthed.

A Bittersweet End

But “Man on Fire” is a good movie. Both Denzel and Fanning are perfect, though I enjoyed Walken in a non-cynical role as a true supporting player. The film makes sweeping indictments of corruption, especially apropos in a climate where it seems not to matter. Denzel shows us all the colors of Creasy: anger, violence, brokenness, a wisdom from a life doing the wrong things, and ultimately love and loyalty. The film’s end is sad, as it ought to be, yet filled with a fleeting hope. I found the film’s final shot superfluous—the film shouldn’t have answered the question it does—but it’s a small criticism. Denzel, Fanning, and Scott plop us into an unforgiving world but give us a reason to hold on to love. It’s a worthy thesis that earns its payoff as the credits roll.