Bad Man (2025) – Meth-Fueled Mayhem with Uneven Sparks and a Heartfelt Dedication
Hello, movie lovers! After the endurance-shattering strides and societal stings of The Long Walk, I'm sidestepping into small-town sleaze and suspicious saviors with Bad Man (2025), directed by Michael Diliberti. Starring Seann William Scott as the slippery Bobby Gaines, Johnny Simmons as the sidelined Sam Evans, and Chance Perdomo as the sharp DJ (in his poignant final role), this action-comedy-crime-thriller promises meth-busting twists in Colt Lake, Tennessee. I warmed to the late-blooming intrigue and standout turns, but tonal wobbles kept it from full throttle, earning a middling 6/10—worth one watch for the grit and that killer quote. Let's unpack the powder keg and its puffs.
Bad Man (2025) - Undercover Unease and Small-Town Suspense
Firing up Bad Man was a casual curiosity pick after heavier fare—I wanted something lighter with a crime edge, and while it delivers on the meth-riddled underbelly, it stumbles in blending its billed genres. The action pops in scrappy shootouts and chases through Alabama's backwoods (standing in for Tennessee), and the crime core simmers with corruption and conspiracies that finally hook you post-intermission. But comedy? Sporadic at best—some zingers land with dry wit, others flop flat, leaving the "thriller" label feeling like a stretch amid the meandering setup. Johnny Simmons owns Sam Evans, pouring earnest frustration into a local hero chewed by bureaucracy; his chemistry with Perdomo's quick-witted DJ crackles, especially poignant knowing it's Chance's last bow, a motorcycle tragedy that wrapped production just before. Seann William Scott? He's game as the cocky Gaines, but his manic energy blurs funny-serious lines—charming in bursts, cartoonish elsewhere. That line, "There are no good men. Only bad men and those who they bend," though? Pure gold, a gritty gut-punch that elevates the moral murk. At 6/10, it's a flawed fixer-upper—once-fun diversion for fans of Breaking Bad lite, but don't expect seamless synthesis.
The Plot: From Meth Mayhem to Murky Motives
In the opioid-overrun hollows of Colt Lake, Tennessee, straight-arrow deputy Sam Evans (Johnny Simmons) wages a one-man war against a rampant meth scourge, leveraging his deep-rooted local know-how to dismantle labs and lines. But the feds parachute in Bobby Gaines (Seann William Scott), a flashy undercover hotshot whose brash busts steal the spotlight, relegating Sam to desk duty and small-town scorn. As Gaines soaks up hero worship, Sam's gut screams setup—whispers of insider deals and double-crosses unravel a tangled web of addiction, ambition, and outright betrayal, with DJ (Chance Perdomo), Sam's street-smart sidekick, sniffing out the rot amid redneck rivalries.
Co-written by Diliberti and JJ Nelson, the script draws loose from rural drug-war reckonings, spinning a cat-and-mouse caper across 93 minutes of escalating entanglements—from stakeout snafus to savage standoffs—that probes power's poisons in forgotten flyovers. Themes of sidelined loyalty, performative heroism, and the bend-or-break of "bad men" thread through foggy forests and fleabag motels, with nods to real Appalachian epidemics without preachiness. Filmed in Helena and Graysville, Alabama (December 2023-January 2024), it captures that sticky Southern stasis, wrapping just before Perdomo's tragic March 2024 passing—a dedication that adds unspoken ache. Vertical's September 5, 2025, release keeps it indie-lean: no franchise fluff, just a standalone shuffle through suspicion's swamp. The front loads fog, but the back half clarifies the chaos, turning confusion into compulsive if conventional climaxes.
Performances That Pack a Punch (or a Powder)
Johnny Simmons dominates as Sam, his wide-eyed weariness evolving into steely resolve that anchors the anarchy—it's his career-best, a raw riff on the everyman edged out, making you root for his redemption rumble. Chance Perdomo lights up as DJ, his sly charisma and rapid-fire retorts injecting genuine spark; it's a heartbreaking swan song, his easy rapport with Simmons turning sidekick support into scene-stealing soul. Seann William Scott channels Stifler-after-sobriety as Gaines, nailing the narcissistic swagger in fits, but the tonal tightrope trips him—half the time he's hilariously unhinged, the rest a muddled mess of menace and mirth. In a cast rounded by Rob Riggle's bombastic boss and Lovi Poe's layered local, these three shoulder the swing, proving indie ensembles thrive on uneven but earnest energy.
A Scrappy Swing at Genre Mash-Up
Michael Diliberti's feature debut (The Babysitters echoes in the ensemble edge) tosses action (John Wick skirmishes sans style), comedy (Superbad snark in spots), and crime (Hell or High Water's heartland heist) into a blender that rarely purees smooth—think Fargo lite meets Narcos neighborly, but with Alabama authenticity over artifice. The real hook? Perdomo's memorial nod, transforming a post-production punch into profound punctuation; visuals lean lived-in, with handheld haze and humid hues evoking opioid odysseys like Hillbilly Elegy minus the maudlin. Unique in its "bent men" ethos—exploring how vice warps without villains— it carves a niche for low-budget lunges at timely toxins, evolving romps into reckonings. Compared to predecessors in the drug-thriller vein (Sicario's scope dwarfs this), Bad Man bets on banter over bombast, a bold but bumpy ride for B-movie buffs craving character amid the cartridges.
Ratings and Critical Reception
IMDb: 4.9/10 (from 697 users), RT: No Tomatometer score yet (early indie vibes), but a stellar 93% audience Popcornmeter.
The chasm yawns: users skew sour on the sluggish start and genre fumble ("muddled mess"), while audiences adore the underdog uplift and Perdomo punch ("fun fixer with heart"). My 6/10 threads the needle—late-game gains tipped the scales, but the haze held it back.
A Minor Critique: Tonal Tumbles and Slow-Burn Stutter
The biggest bug? That front-half fog—plot points plod without pull, blending laughs and licks so clumsily you wonder if the meth's messing with the mix; it alienates early, only redeeming in the rush. Sharper setup could've salvaged the swing.
A Once-Bitten Brew for Genre Gamblers
At 6/10, Bad Man is a bumpy backwoods brawl—solid once-over for its standout souls and that bending-bad bite. Perdomo's fire and Simmons' steel left me saluting the scrappers, a reminder small screens can still sting. Stream it for the quote alone; it's crooked gold in the cracks.
What did you think of Bad Man? Did Gaines' grin hook you, or did the genre grind grind your gears? Drop your thoughts in the comments, and here's the big one: suggest a movie for my next review! I'm itching for indie indulgences. If you enjoyed this post, please like, follow, and share so you don’t miss the next bust. Thanks for joining me—see you in the next one!
