Fuze (2026)

Fuze takes a brilliantly simple hook—a WWII bomb turning central London into a ghosted-out pressure cooker—and spins it into a sleek, breathless thriller that feels both old-school pulpy and sharply modern. David Mackenzie directs with muscular clarity and swagger, keeping the action clean, the tension tight, and the momentum so relentless you can almost hear the city holding its breath. Aaron Taylor-Johnson and Theo James bring a coiled intensity to a world where every glance suggests a deal, a trap, or a pivot, and the film’s twists arrive with the satisfying snap of a well-timed punch rather than cheap surprise. It’s violent, profane, and proudly heightened—so if you want realism over bravado it may not be your flavor—but if you’re craving an entertaining, stylish ride that never stops moving, this one earns your ticket.

Fuze is clearly aiming for that high-concept London thriller where a real-world crisis (a WWII bomb and mass evacuation) becomes the slick cover for a big, clockwork heist. The problem is it often feels like it’s running on the idea alone: the plotting gets fuzzy, the twists don’t land with much weight, and the suspense you’re expecting from a ticking-clock setup never really tightens the grip. If you need sharp writing, a cohesive cat-and-mouse, and action that sticks in your head, this may leave you cold. But if you’re happy to coast on solid performances, a tense backdrop, and some moment-to-moment crunch, it’s serviceable entertainment without much staying power.