*65*: Driver’s Physicality Can’t Save the Weak Script

The opening shot of 65 is a stark, unforgiving landscape—primordial Earth stretching out under a sky filled with the ominous glow of an impending asteroid strike. It’s a powerful image, one that promises tension and spectacle. Yet, as the film unfolds, it becomes clear that this promise is only partially fulfilled. Directed by Scott Beck and Bryan Woods, 65 is a sci-fi action flick that strives to blend prehistoric survival with interstellar adventure, but its ambitions outstrip its execution.

At the heart of the film are Adam Driver and Ariana Greenblatt, playing Mills and Koa, respectively. The duo finds themselves stranded on Earth 65 million years ago after their spaceship crashes. Their goal: to reach an escape vessel before the asteroid strike wipes out the planet. Driver brings his usual intensity to the role of Mills, a pilot whose desperation is palpable as he navigates the dangers of a world teeming with dinosaurs. His physicality is a standout—whether he’s sprinting through dense forests or fending off prehistoric predators, Driver sells the urgency of their situation. However, his performance is hampered by a script that often leaves him adrift in scenes lacking exposition or meaningful dialogue.

Driver’s Mills is a character defined by his actions rather than his words, and while this can be effective in creating a sense of immediacy, it also robs the character of depth. The film’s reliance on Driver’s physicality to convey emotion is both its strength and its weakness. On one hand, it lends a visceral quality to the survival narrative; on the other, it leaves the audience craving more insight into Mills’ motivations and backstory.

Greenblatt, on the other hand, offers a compelling counterpoint to Driver’s intensity. Her character, Koa, provides a necessary spark of youthful resilience and curiosity. The dynamic between Driver and Greenblatt is one of the film’s stronger elements, as their chemistry elevates the material beyond its clichéd beats. Greenblatt’s performance brings a sense of wonder and vulnerability to her role, making Koa more than just a plot device. Her scenes with Driver are some of the film’s most engaging, as she grounds the story in emotional stakes that transcend the mere survival narrative.

Chloe Coleman and Nika King also deliver solid performances in smaller roles, but they are often sidelined by a narrative that struggles to balance action with character development. King’s portrayal of Nevine’s Mom is particularly noteworthy for its warmth and maternal concern, providing a brief but poignant respite from the film’s relentless tension.

The film’s direction is competent but uninspired. Beck and Woods have crafted a visually striking world, with cinematography that captures the vast, untamed landscapes of prehistoric Earth. The action sequences are well-staged, utilizing the environment to create tension and suspense. However, the pacing feels uneven, with moments of high-intensity action followed by lulls that test the viewer’s patience. The film’s attempt to integrate themes from older sci-fi narratives results in a patchwork plot that struggles to cohere.

One of the most glaring weaknesses of 65 is its story. The premise—two survivors racing against time to escape a doomed planet—is ripe for tension, but the execution falters. The narrative relies heavily on clichéd beats and a vague resemblance to The Last of Us, lacking the originality that would set it apart from other creature features. The asteroid threat looms like a cheap ticking clock, and the dinosaur encounters, while occasionally tense, lack the freshness seen in recent films like Prey.

The film’s themes are equally muddled. It touches on ideas of survival, sacrifice, and the human spirit, but these themes are never fully explored or developed. The asteroid strike serves as a convenient plot device rather than a meaningful catalyst for character growth or thematic depth. This lack of thematic cohesion leaves the film feeling hollow, despite its impressive visuals and action sequences.

The sound design amplifies the tension, with the roar of dinosaurs and the distant rumble of the approaching asteroid creating an immersive atmosphere. However, the score often undercuts this tension with overly familiar cues that fail to elevate the emotional stakes. The film’s attempt to blend action with character development results in a narrative that feels disjointed, as scenes of high-intensity action are followed by moments of exposition-free dialogue that leave viewers adrift.

65 is a film that would have benefited from being a whole lot stupider. The big-budget sci-fi flick—which reportedly cost $91 million to make—struggles under the weight of its own ambitions. The premise doesn’t hold up to close scrutiny, and the narrative can be jarring at times. However, it’s not without its moments. The dynamic between Driver and Greenblatt is compelling, and the action sequences are well-staged.

In the end, 65 is a missed opportunity. It has the ingredients for a thrilling adventure but fails to cook them into something memorable. The film’s strongest elements—its craftsmanship, performances, and occasional moments of tension—are overshadowed by a story that feels hollow. The pacing issues, lack of thematic depth, and reliance on clichéd narrative beats prevent the film from reaching its full potential.

The film’s target audience is clearly fans of action-packed sci-fi adventures, but even they may find 65 lacking in substance. While it delivers on spectacle, it falls short in delivering a compelling story or memorable characters. The film’s reliance on Driver’s physicality and Greenblatt’s chemistry is its saving grace, but it’s not enough to elevate the material above its mediocre script.

65 is a film that strives for greatness but settles for mediocrity. It’s a visual feast with moments of genuine tension and compelling performances, but these elements are ultimately overshadowed by a narrative that feels disjointed and uninspired.