There are action films, and then there are films that redefine what action can be; The Raid 2: Berandal belongs squarely in the latter camp. Gareth Evans, the Welsh-born filmmaker whose 2011 film The Raid: Redemption made a cult hero of both himself and his lead actor Iko Uwais, returns with a sequel so audacious in its scope, so deliriously precise in its execution, that to call it merely a “follow-up” would be an injustice. The Raid 2 isn’t just a movie; it’s a marvel of cinematic combat, a two-and-a-half-hour ballet of bone, blood, and bruises. It doesn’t merely escalate the thrills of the first film, it obliterates them.
To be clear, one needn’t have seen The Raid: Redemption to appreciate Berandal, though familiarity helps. The events pick up mere hours after the first film’s carnage concludes, and Rama (played once again by the supernaturally gifted Uwais) finds himself drawn into a deeper, more insidious conflict. Gone are the claustrophobic corridors and stairwells of the first film’s drug-lord stronghold; in their place: prisons, nightclubs, restaurant backrooms, snowy alleyways, and eventually, a kitchen that becomes the stage for one of the most exhilarating showdowns ever filmed.
Evans, who also wrote the screenplay, wisely expands his narrative ambitions. If The Raid was a stripped-down survival thriller, The Raid 2 borrows from the grander narrative tradition of undercover crime dramas; Infernal Affairs, The Departed, and Election among them. Rama is recruited by a secretive anti-corruption unit and sent to infiltrate the criminal underworld. His assignment: befriend Uco, the hot-headed heir to a powerful Jakarta crime family, and expose the rot festering at the city’s core. It’s a well-worn premise, but one that Evans revitalizes with blistering energy and surprising emotional texture.
And yet, it’s not the plot that sears itself into memory; it’s the way The Raid 2 moves. The film’s first fight scene, set in a cramped prison bathroom stall, is a brutal overture: fists slam against tile, limbs contort in close quarters, and Evans’ camera moves with uncanny fluidity, never flinching, never cutting away. The sequence is shocking not for its gore; though there is plenty of that; but for its clarity. Evans has always respected the geography of action, and in Berandal, he proves himself a master of kinetic storytelling. You never lose track of who is hitting whom, or why.
This discipline carries through to the film’s centerpiece: a rain-drenched prison yard melee that spirals into a riot of flailing limbs and muddy chaos. It’s the kind of set piece that would cap most action films; Evans places it squarely in the first act. And he’s just getting started. What follows is a succession of increasingly elaborate brawls and chase scenes, each more inventive than the last. A frenetic car chase through Jakarta’s streets feels like it was choreographed with a scalpel. A restaurant massacre unspools like a blood-soaked opera. And the final twenty minutes; featuring a brother-sister duo wielding a baseball bat and dual hammers; resemble a video game boss rush staged with grim, elegant resolve.
Yet for all the carnage, The Raid 2 never descends into nihilism. Evans understands the gravity of violence, its cost, its toll. Rama, our weary guide through this underworld, is no superhero. He bleeds, he doubts, he mourns. Uwais, whose physicality recalls the best of Jackie Chan and Bruce Lee, imbues Rama with a quiet, brooding intensity. His fight scenes are astonishing not only for their athleticism, but for their emotion. You feel his exhaustion. You root for his survival.
What Evans achieves with The Raid 2 is a kind of genre alchemy. He elevates the martial arts film without ever abandoning its pleasures. He embraces melodrama without tipping into cliché. He choreographs violence not as spectacle, but as narrative; a language all its own. Each punch, kick, and shattered bone advances the story, deepens our understanding of character, or heightens the tension.
At a time when so many action films rely on CGI, quips, and weightless spectacle, The Raid 2 feels almost radical in its commitment to physical realism and operatic scope. It is a film that demands to be seen on the biggest screen possible, with the sound turned all the way up and your full attention surrendered.
It is, quite simply, a masterwork.
So no, you don’t have to see the first Raid before diving into Berandal. But if you care at all about action cinema, about what movies can still do when they sweat and bleed and breathe; then yes, run. Don’t walk.
