'Tornado' Movie Review: John Maclean’s Samurai-Western Is a Slow-Burning, Blood-Soaked Return to Form

Alex Leptos
Jun 16
3 min read

Updated: Jun 18

Official poster for John Maclean's samurai-western action-drama 'Tornado.' — Poster for *Tornado*

Tornado is Slow West director John Maclean's return to cinema after a decade away. His latest is a striking genre fusion that blends the stylistic tropes of classic samurai cinema, Westerns, and even a touch of grindhouse. Set in 1790 but rather than in feudal Japan or the American frontier, it unfolds across the vast, hilly landscapes of Ediburgh, Scotland. We don’t often see English-language samurai films today- let alone ones as grounded and stylistically assured as this- making Tornado a welcome addition to 2025's cinematic offerings.

The film opens mid-chase, immersing viewers immediately in the action and filling the audience with questions as Tornado (the titular character) and a young boy flee a gang of highwaymen led by Tim Roth’s "Sugarman." Roth employs a very composed, almost sassy British demoanor as he's established as just as ruthless as he is witty, and relentless in his search.

After their narrow escape, the story rewinds to reveal what led to Sugerman pursuit: The boy has stolen gold from them and Tornado, initially wanting to take it all for herself, has helped him escape. Their alliance, born from necessity, sets in motion a relentless chase across the Scottish wilderness.

Tim Roth leads a gang of villainous highway mean on John Maclean's samurai-western 'Tornado.' — **Tim Roth** leads a gang of Highway mean across the Scottish wilderness.

For all the set-up, Tornado is much more slow burn than one might expect. So for those expecting a massive action epic, Tornado may be surprisingly reserved for much of its runtime in a focused, indie sort of way- but it's never sluggish. When it does eventually succumb to all of its build-up and shows hints of that epic you might have wanted, the action is very grounded, very deliberate and even minimalistic. It may not be flashy or excessive, but it wouldn't be any type of samurai movie if there wasn't a bit of splatter and blood spray, but it resists indulgence. Much like Maclean’s debut, Slow West, it's very contained and unfolds at a very comfortable pace, not wasting any time and making sure that every beat matters.

Visually, Tornado is a treat. With nods to Akira Kurosawa and Sergio Leone as well as the russling of tall grass that channels Kaneto Shindō, Edinburgh’s outskirts become a vivid character in their own right. Aided by the use of silhouettes etched in fading light and the wide-open spaces, Tornado has a mythic-like quality that makes it stunning to look at.

Then there's the score. By Jed Kurzel, who also worked on Slow West and more recently Dev Patel's Monkey Man, it employs jarring blasts of horn and bass that amp up the tension, to more nightmarish, dreamlike ambiance that haunt the film’s emotional peaks. In that way, it brings to mind Jonny Greenwood’s work on The Power of the Dog- none of it overstays it's welcome or lingers for longer than necessary, making sure that it's always enhancing rather than distracting.

Jack Lowden and Kōki in John Maclean's samurai-western 'Tornado.' — **Jack Lowden** and **Kōki** in *Tornado.*

The performances throughout are excellent. Kōki, coming off her breakout performance in the critically-acclaimed Touch, brings a quiet strength and inner turmoil to Tornado. She’s a puppeteer by trade with her father, Fujin, played by Takehiro Hira, but he also shares his skills as a swordsman which they use as part of their performance. Eventually trading its use for grief-stricken revenge, Tornado's subtly expressive face anchors the emotional weight of the film, with lingering closeups as we watch her transformation from stoic silence to righteous fury. Jack Lowden offers a compelling moral middle ground as Little Sugar, big sugar's son, and Roth meanwhile as stated earlier, is pure menace- his presence looms large even in silence.

At its heart, Tornado is less about action and more about identity. Tornado is many things: an entertainer, a foreigner, a daughter, a killer. Her journey is internal as much as it is physical. The film also really leans into the theme of isolation and Tornado walks a lonely road as all of those things. This is a character study wrapped in a Western-samurai cloak, and at just 91 minutes, it never overstays its welcome, but it does leave an imprint. A quiet, nuanced fury burns through every frame, and when Tornado vanishes into the horizon, the film cements itself as a love letter to cinema and the genres that helped shape it.