Onslaught Review – Adria Arjona Turns a Retro‑Style Actioner into a Lean, Mean Fighting Machine

When you hear the word “Onslaught,” you might picture a hulking, testosterone‑fueled hero charging through explosions like something ripped straight from a 1980s Saturday matinee. Adam Wingard flips that expectation on its head, giving us a lean, mean fighting machine with a rifle in hand and a daughter in her heart.

Enter Celeste (Adria Arjona), a former Army sniper who now lives in a rundown trailer park on the rim of the New Mexico desert. The opening scene feels almost mundane – she’s perched on a fence, trying to steady her aim at a line of jack‑o‑lanterns while memories of desert firefights flash across her mind. It’s an odd, almost tender moment that hints at the trauma she’s carrying, a little PTSD whisper that will echo throughout the film.

From there, the story catapults us into the sterile, white‑washed lab of Dr. Hans Kammler (Dan Stevens). Over a bland breakfast with his wife Hanna (Rebecca Hall), we learn he’s not just any scientist; he’s the mad‑genius behind a top‑secret program that reanimates dead soldiers as genetically enhanced killing machines. Think “Resident Evil” meets “The Terminator,” but with a dash of 80s synth‑driven flair.

The premise is simple enough – three super‑soldiers break loose, start spraying gasoline‑filled gas stations, and head straight for Celeste’s little girl, Valentina. What the film does well is wrap this high‑octane chase in a surprisingly personal core: a mother’s fierce, almost primal need to keep her child safe.

Arjona’s performance is the film’s anchor. She doesn’t just shoot straight; she carries the weight of loss, anger, and a dry‑witted humor that pops up in the most unexpected places. When she quips about the “new‑age” soldiers being “just a bit more… enthusiastic,” you can’t help but smile, even as bullets fly.

Dan Stevens provides the perfect counter‑balance, playing the scientist with a sly, almost smug veneer that cracks just enough to remind us he’s the architect of this chaos. Eric Wareheim, Reginald VelJohnson, and Michael Biehn pop up in cameo‑style roles that feel like love‑letters to classic action cinema, each delivering a line or two before disappearing into the mayhem.

Visually, “Onslaught” leans heavily into its retro inspiration. The colour palette is washed‑out desert browns and neon‑sickly greens, the soundtrack bumps with synth‑heavy tracks that could have been lifted from a 1984 arcade cabinet, and the camera work—while occasionally shaky—keeps the tension humming. The action sequences are tight, especially the final showdown in an abandoned quarry where Celeste, armed with nothing but a battered sniper rifle and sheer will, confronts the three unstoppable soldiers.

Of course, the film isn’t without its rough edges. Some dialogue feels deliberately cheesy, and the pacing drifts a little in the middle when the plot pauses to explain the super‑soldier program in excruciating detail. Yet, these quirks feel intentional, a nod to the very era the movie is echoing.

At just 92 minutes, “Onslaught” never overstays its welcome. It’s a brisk, adrenaline‑pumped ride that manages to be both a homage to vintage action and a fresh, character‑driven story. If you’re after a film that blends relentless gun‑fights with a mother‑daughter bond, and you don’t mind a few nostalgic flourishes, this one is worth the ticket.

Bottom line: “Onslaught” may not rewrite the rules of the genre, but it certainly sharpens them, and Adria Arjona’s razor‑edge performance makes the whole experience unforgettable.