Pete
Michael Jai White
Pete
Overview
Follows Pete, a professional hitman, as he faces a group of assassins after the boss of a crime syndicate suspects disloyalty due to his attendance at Workaholics Anonymous meetings.
Trailer
Official Trailer Official
Cast
Mora
Aimee Stolte
Mora
Angel
Dawn Olivieri
Angel
Reaper
Aleks Paunovic
Reaper
Muerto
Benjamin Joel Arcé
Muerto
Mingjue
Alex Mallari Jr.
Mingjue
Thanatos
Damon Runyan
Thanatos
Pequino
Sala Baker
Pequino
Lilliana
Ana Sarem
Lilliana
Trey
Mike Gassaway
Trey
Matteo Acardo
John Littlefield
Matteo Acardo
Gabriel
Kyle Bailey
Gabriel
Reviews
✦ AI-generated review
The Punchline of Productivity
Action cinema, for all its kinetic glory, rarely pauses to ask about the pension plan. The protagonist is usually a force of nature—an unstoppable object propelled by revenge or duty, operating in a world where stamina is infinite and emotional fatigue is a weakness to be purged. However, in Michael Hamilton-Wright’s *Hostile Takeover* (2025), the genre’s central engine isn't a dead dog or a kidnapped daughter; it is the thoroughly modern, crushing weight of professional burnout.
Michael Jai White stars as Pete Stryker, a hitman who doesn't want out of the game because he has a moral epiphany, but simply because he is tired. The film’s inciting incident—Pete attending a Workaholics Anonymous meeting—is a stroke of satirical brilliance that Hamilton-Wright unfortunately plays more for situational farce than dark comedy. Yet, the premise allows for a fascinating deconstruction of the "action hero" archetype. When Pete’s attendance at the meeting is misconstrued by his syndicate boss (played with scenery-chewing delight by John Littlefield) as an act of betrayal, the film transforms into a literal corporate nightmare. The assassins sent to kill Pete aren't just enemies; they are jealous coworkers angling for a promotion in a downsizing market.
Visually, Hamilton-Wright leans into a slick, almost arcade-like aesthetic to underscore the artificiality of Pete’s world. The use of video-game-style interstitials to introduce the rogues' gallery of assassins frames the violence as a series of levels to be cleared, reinforcing the monotony of Pete's existence. However, the camera often lingers a beat too long, betraying the film's modest budget and occasionally exposing the seams of the choreography.
The heart of the film, and perhaps its saving grace, lies in Michael Jai White’s performance. At 57, White brings a gravitas to the role that a younger actor could not simulate. He moves with an efficiency that speaks to decades of screen combat, but there is a deliberate heaviness to his step. The film doesn't hide his age; it weaponizes it. When Pete fights, it isn't the frenetic ballet of *John Wick*; it is the grumpy, precise work of a master craftsman who just wants to clock out. The humor often stems from this disconnect—Pete is a man trying to apply HR-approved conflict resolution strategies to a knife fight. His recurring inability to stop inadvertently mimicking accents serves as a strange, meta-commentary on the actor’s own chameleon-like career, suggesting a man who has played so many roles he has forgotten his own voice.
While the narrative threatens to collapse under its own silliness—particularly with the undercooked romance subplot involving the boss's daughter (Aimee Stolte)—the film succeeds as a mood piece on the aging action star. It lacks the biting, blaxploitation satire of White’s masterpiece *Black Dynamite*, settling instead for a "dad joke" energy that is surprisingly endearing. The stakes are ostensibly life-or-death, but the emotional truth is far more relatable: the struggle to establish boundaries in a workplace that demands your soul.
Ultimately, *Hostile Takeover* is not a revolution in the genre, but a comfortable, self-aware resignation to it. It is a film about a man who realizes that the only thing harder than killing for a living is living for yourself. In an era of cinema obsessed with universe-building and high-stakes spectacle, there is something oddly comforting about a hero whose primary goal is simply to achieve a better work-life balance.
Action cinema, for all its kinetic glory, rarely pauses to ask about the pension plan. The protagonist is usually a force of nature—an unstoppable object propelled by revenge or duty, operating in a world where stamina is infinite and emotional fatigue is a weakness to be purged. However, in Michael Hamilton-Wright’s *Hostile Takeover* (2025), the genre’s central engine isn't a dead dog or a kidnapped daughter; it is the thoroughly modern, crushing weight of professional burnout.
Michael Jai White stars as Pete Stryker, a hitman who doesn't want out of the game because he has a moral epiphany, but simply because he is tired. The film’s inciting incident—Pete attending a Workaholics Anonymous meeting—is a stroke of satirical brilliance that Hamilton-Wright unfortunately plays more for situational farce than dark comedy. Yet, the premise allows for a fascinating deconstruction of the "action hero" archetype. When Pete’s attendance at the meeting is misconstrued by his syndicate boss (played with scenery-chewing delight by John Littlefield) as an act of betrayal, the film transforms into a literal corporate nightmare. The assassins sent to kill Pete aren't just enemies; they are jealous coworkers angling for a promotion in a downsizing market.
Visually, Hamilton-Wright leans into a slick, almost arcade-like aesthetic to underscore the artificiality of Pete’s world. The use of video-game-style interstitials to introduce the rogues' gallery of assassins frames the violence as a series of levels to be cleared, reinforcing the monotony of Pete's existence. However, the camera often lingers a beat too long, betraying the film's modest budget and occasionally exposing the seams of the choreography.
The heart of the film, and perhaps its saving grace, lies in Michael Jai White’s performance. At 57, White brings a gravitas to the role that a younger actor could not simulate. He moves with an efficiency that speaks to decades of screen combat, but there is a deliberate heaviness to his step. The film doesn't hide his age; it weaponizes it. When Pete fights, it isn't the frenetic ballet of *John Wick*; it is the grumpy, precise work of a master craftsman who just wants to clock out. The humor often stems from this disconnect—Pete is a man trying to apply HR-approved conflict resolution strategies to a knife fight. His recurring inability to stop inadvertently mimicking accents serves as a strange, meta-commentary on the actor’s own chameleon-like career, suggesting a man who has played so many roles he has forgotten his own voice.
While the narrative threatens to collapse under its own silliness—particularly with the undercooked romance subplot involving the boss's daughter (Aimee Stolte)—the film succeeds as a mood piece on the aging action star. It lacks the biting, blaxploitation satire of White’s masterpiece *Black Dynamite*, settling instead for a "dad joke" energy that is surprisingly endearing. The stakes are ostensibly life-or-death, but the emotional truth is far more relatable: the struggle to establish boundaries in a workplace that demands your soul.
Ultimately, *Hostile Takeover* is not a revolution in the genre, but a comfortable, self-aware resignation to it. It is a film about a man who realizes that the only thing harder than killing for a living is living for yourself. In an era of cinema obsessed with universe-building and high-stakes spectacle, there is something oddly comforting about a hero whose primary goal is simply to achieve a better work-life balance.