When Gareth Evans unleashed The Raid (2011) onto the world, he didn’t just introduce audiences to a high-octane Indonesian martial arts thriller—he redefined the language of action filmmaking. With its brutal choreography, claustrophobic tension, and single-take audacity, the film marked the beginning of a legacy built on precise, punishing violence. Now, more than a decade later, Evans returns with Havoc (2025), a Tom Hardy-led crime noir that signals not just a continuation of his style, but a maturation of his directorial voice.
The DNA of Evans’ Action: Rhythm, Chaos, Control
What sets Evans apart in the action genre isn’t merely the brutality of his fight scenes but the rhythmic control he exercises over them. In The Raid, sequences were tightly choreographed using pencak silat, a traditional Indonesian martial art. The camera rarely cuts away, allowing each strike, block, and fall to be felt in full. These long takes not only intensified the realism but forced the viewer into the chaos with the characters.
Evans’ camera isn’t a passive observer—it ducks, spins, recoils, and gasps. Every dolly move or handheld shake mirrors the impact of a fist or the lunge of a machete. In Havoc, he carries this energy forward but adapts it to the context of Western noir—swapping high-rise drug dens for wet alleyways and seedy cityscapes. The violence is no less visceral, but it’s filtered through a lens of urban decay and moral ambiguity.
Cultural Crossovers and Combat Evolution
Evans’ transition from The Raid’s Southeast Asian setting to Havoc’s gritty Western backdrop isn’t just geographical—it’s philosophical. The Raid leaned heavily into the discipline of silat: structured, graceful, ritualistic. Havoc introduces a more chaotic, almost animalistic combat language, reflecting the internal ruin of its lead character, Walker (played by Hardy).
Yet, Evans doesn’t abandon his roots. There are flashes of that Southeast Asian discipline in Havoc—a nod to his cinematic ancestry. But they’re layered with the raw improvisation that characterizes Western brawler archetypes: elbows to the face, necks snapped in alleys, bodies tossed across bathroom stalls. It’s a hybrid style, a cultural crossoverthat mirrors the globalisation of action cinema itself.
The Character in the Carnage
One of Evans’ most underappreciated skills is how he uses violence as character development. In The Raid, Rama (Iko Uwais) fights not just to survive but to uphold a moral compass in a lawless world. Every move is controlled, clean, and focused. In Havoc, Walker’s journey is the inverse. Hardy’s detective spirals deeper into brutality, and the choreography reflects that descent. Fights become messier. Punches are thrown more out of desperation than technique.
Evans captures this deterioration visually. Camera angles drop lower, movement becomes more erratic, and lighting dims as the story progresses. Violence isn’t just spectacle—it’s language. And Evans speaks it fluently.
Cinematic Influences and Noir Sensibilities
With Havoc, Evans leans heavily into Western noir aesthetics. The rain-soaked streets, morally grey characters, and a city rotting from the inside out feel ripped from the pages of Sin City or the reels of Se7en. But unlike those stylized entries, Evans keeps the grime tangible. Blood is thick, windows shatter loud, and guns don’t kill clean.
His background in Asian cinema brings an almost spiritual patience to the pacing. Scenes aren’t rushed. Fights earn their place in the narrative. And when they come, they’re grounded—not reliant on CGI, but on choreography, timing, and emotional stakes.
From Indonesia to the World
Gareth Evans may have emerged from the Indonesian film scene, but he’s now a global storyteller. His brand of violence is both universal and intimate. In The Raid, he proved he could stage breathtaking sequences on a shoestring budget. With Havoc, he shows he can retain that authenticity even within the polished, resource-heavy sphere of Netflix’s global reach.
Evans isn’t just repeating himself—he’s evolving. Havoc is not The Raid in English. It’s a meditation on rot, rage, and redemption, dressed in noir and soaked in blood. And it cements Evans not just as a choreographer of carnage, but a director of consequence.
