Trigger Warning: Tin Soldier deals with a number of issues related to trauma-induced by war and the film incorporates several visual and sound elements intended to convey such psychological trauma that may trigger sensitive viewers.
In the United States, members of the military are among the most propped up and undervalued groups. They serve a vital purpose in safe-guarding the country from enemies foreign and domestic, yet are only treated as valuable as long as they continue to serve. Veterans, especially those with service-related injuries or disabilities, are often pushed aside until needed for symbolic purposes. Politicians, in particular, like to trot out the military when it serves their purposes and then privately deride them, even going so far as to reduce or remove Veteran Affairs services, fight to provide life-saving measures from first-responders, or otherwise refer to anyone unable to serve as a “loser” or worse. While the military machine is one worth questioning, as well as those who wield it, the soldiers themselves deserve some reverence for the willingness to put themselves in places that others dare not go. The new Brand Furman (The Infiltrator) project, Tin Soldier, wraps a typical action revenge thriller with a psychological tinge as it showcases the fallibility of the military system and the opportunistic fools it inspires.
Scott Eastwood as Nash Cavanaugh in TIN SOLDIER. Photo Credit: Julie Vrabelova. Photo courtesy of Samuel Goldwyn Films.
Having developed PTSD from his time in combat, U.S. Military veteran Nash Cavanaugh (Scott Eastwood) is sent for treatment at a facility run by Dr. Leon K. Proudhomme (Jaime Foxx), a doctor hired by military brass to try to treat soldiers with PTSD who has since changed his name to The Bokushi and sharpens his patients into refurbished weapons for his own personal war. While there, Nash meets Evoli Carmichael (Nora Arneseder), another patient, and the two fall in love, providing each with a healing they didn’t know they could experience. As a result, they try to leave and tragedy befalls them, leaving Nash as the only survivor. Years later, Nash is contacted by the U.S. military to assist them in a small operation to infiltrate The Bokushi’s lair and neutralize him for good using the current public caused by the recent failed operation as standoff as cover. Nash is more than reluctant to return to the compound until evidence is produced implying that Evoli is alive and, for the narrowest glimmer of hope, Nash will return and take out anyone he has to to get her back.
Based on a story by Furman (Bigger) and Jess Fuerst and written by Furman, Furest, and Pablo F. Fenjves (Man on a Ledge), Tin Soldiers is a fascinatingly frustrating watch. It mixes the tried-and-true military revenge aspects we’ve seen while also incorporating a fascinating mix of stylized choices. In the first component, the narrative utilizes the “someone is brought in to face their abuser as they are the only one who knows their way around, prompted by someone who failed to see the target as a threat, and who’s only roped in by the promise of finding a love lost” trope. The second is a mix of stylized choices which upend the typical through the use of non-linear storytelling overtop present-day events, visual depictions of sensory disruption (including a form of time dilation) indicative of a triggered mind, and auditory aspects that eschew convention in favor of accuracy. The combination of such trite and inspired choices leaves one truly baffled as the film seems to offer a challenging look at the ways in which the military stops viewing soldiers as people and sees them as inventory to be used up and discarded or, should a need be discovered, renovated so as to be used again; however, it goes about it in such a ham-fisted way (complete with ridiculously executed performance by Foxx who owns as The Bokushi) that it may was well be a low-grade actioner despite its phenomenal ensemble which includes several John Wick franchise alum (John Leguizamo, Shamier Anderson, and Saïd Taghmaoui), as well as Robert De Niro (Heat), who appears briefly as the mouthpiece for the U.S. military. The confluence of these disparate approaches leave one more flummoxed than entertained or satisfied.
Jamie Foxx as The Bokushi in TIN SOLDIER. Photo Credit: Julie Vrabelova. Photo courtesy of Samuel Goldwyn Films.
The ingenious use of various sensory disruptive-based techniques throughout the film to convey Nash’s PTSD provide Tin Soldier with an unexpected depth. Well into the film, Nash starts a voiceover that, once started, continues through to the end. Some might see this as a shorthand, a narrative means to skip over natural dialogue and discovery through heavy exposition, but this choice inserts a sensation of a neo-noir into the experience as Nash contends with the past and present in real-time, his voiceover joining Eastwood’s physical performance amid prismed colors reflecting through a space so that we observe Nash trying to navigate the here-and-now amid the echoes of the past. Nash’s words serve as the audience focal point, even as wave after wave of color and the shimmering sensation of the past washes over a space he moves through. These choices insert the as-expected “return home” sequences accompanying sneaking back into the compound with greater emotional depth as Nash must confront, head-on, a space of great trauma. When the inevitable fight sequences occur, as one expects from a narrative such as this, they eschew the conventional and, intentionally or not, lean in to the disruptive nature of sensory overload. This means a one-on-one fight between Nash and Taghmaoui’s Atlas occurs with a pulsing white emergency light operating through the sequence. It’s as though Furman wanted to put the audience through a dysregulation similar to that of his characters, a tactic that comes into play later in the film when the dialogue is barely audible over the roar of the surroundings and the visual frame is constantly broken by erupting flames, again an assault on the audience through auditory and visual stimulation that showcases both The Bokushi’s psychological techniques (established via flashback or present day obstacles) and how much Nash must battle through in order to obtain regulation. These choices might seem strange on the outset until one considers the ways in which Furman appears to attempt to place the audience within Nash’s lived experience as much as possible: time dilation, visual/auditory sensitivity, and general unease are all parts of a traumatized mind. These may not be what the average viewer may have in mind for their typical revenge thriller, but it certainly causes one to engage more deeply with Nash’s journey (as long as they themselves aren’t as equally triggered).
The faltering, however, comes from the trite nature of the majority of events in the film. The film opens with text explaining who The Bokushi is and the failing of the government to prevent his overhaul of the program for his own means. If given the choice between text and a voiceover, the voiceover makes the experience more personal as it places the audience immediately within the perspective of the character speaking. Given how little is explained regarding the hierarchy of roles within the compound, despite having specific titles for things, the choice to over-explain in one place and under explain in another suggests a lack of confidence in the audience to trust that information and/or context will come. Eastwood’s Nash gives us plenty. Using De Niro’s Emmanuel Ashburn more would’ve filled in what the text did and with more panache. From here, we’re introduced to The Bokushi in a behind-the-scenes moment of filming something, which is meant to serve as a way of us, the audience, getting to know the character outside of his charismatic self. Between the text and the intro, the audience is more dialed into the generic elements of the film versus Nash, implying that the point is the downfall of the cult leader instead of the repeated failings of the military institution that created the need for him, installed him, and then allowed the rise to power that he achieves wherein he rehabilitates no one, just creates tin soldiers of his own.
Robert De Niro as Emmanuel Ashburn in TIN SOLDIER. Photo Credit: Julie Vrabelova. Photo courtesy of Samuel Goldwyn Films.
Tin Soldier is strongest when it leans into what it means to be described as such, to be a plaything versus a person, a tick on an inventory sheet, or a statistic on a threat assessment document. Through Eastwood’s Nash, we see how soldiers who’ve experienced trauma aren’t looking for another war, not necessarily, but the tools to rejoin society: medical, financial, and humanitarian. All people need purpose and direction, something which the military can provide to those without it, but it’s what happens after discharge that matters. Within this tale, when humanity it put front and center, there’s a clear opportunity to redress the failures committed upon veterans but, instead of making a clear statement on this, it all too frequently steps backward into the expected revenge elements to cultivate the weight it seeks to obtain.
In theaters September 12th, 2025.
Available on digital September 30th, 2025.
For more information, head to the official Samuel Goldwyn Films Tin Soldier webpage.
Final Score: 2.5 out of 5.
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Categories: In Theaters, Reviews, streaming
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