Last Bullet Review: Going Out with a Bang

The arrival of Last Bullet does not merely signal the end of a film series; it marks the concluding statement of a high-energy French action trilogy built on an almost defiant philosophy of practical filmmaking. In an era saturated with digital artifice, this series has consistently championed a more tactile reality, and this finale is its most definitive expression.

Its central figure, Lino, is a character forged from grease and gasoline, a gifted mechanic whose quiet intensity finds its true voice not in dialogue, but in the precise engineering of a roaring engine or the masterful handling of a vehicle at its physical limits. His skills are his weapons.

The core premise is one of primal simplicity: Lino is a man driven by the singular, burning purpose of hunting down Areski, the corrupt officer directly responsible for the murder of his mentor and friend, Charas. This is not a complex quest for justice within a flawed system; it is a direct line to vengeance.

The film immediately establishes its gritty, tangible style, immersing the viewer in a world of scorched asphalt, screeching tires, and the violent, percussive music of bending steel. It is an experience grounded in real-world physics, promising a definitive, high-stakes confrontation that will resolve the lingering conflicts of the series with uncompromising and explosive finality.

A Straight Line to Vengeance

The film’s narrative framework is a model of brutal efficiency, designed for maximum forward momentum. We begin with Lino being brought back into the fold, a pawn in a larger game, only for him to immediately shatter those plans and resume his personal, unsanctioned mission against Areski.

The central complication is introduced with speed and clarity: Lino is not the only hunter in this dangerous landscape. The powerful and deeply corrupt police commander, Resz, also wants Areski silenced permanently to protect his own sprawling criminal enterprise.

This immediately creates a volatile and unpredictable three-way conflict where allegiances are fluid and every encounter is fraught with the potential for betrayal. The plot, therefore, functions as a direct and efficient vehicle, a stripped-down chassis designed with the sole purpose of transporting the audience from one spectacular action sequence to the next.

It consciously avoids intricate subplots and deep psychological explorations, instead providing clear stakes and simple, powerful motivations—revenge and survival. This perceived simplicity is not a flaw but a feature; it is a narrative laser-focused on its objective.

By doing so, it successfully and satisfyingly ties up the narrative threads from the previous two installments, providing a genuine sense of closure for the characters and their long-running conflicts. The story serves the action, ensuring nothing slows the relentless pace.

A Masterclass in Practical Mayhem

The film’s greatest achievement, its very soul, is its unwavering commitment to intense, meticulously choreographed practical action. This is the heart of the movie, a visceral and weighty counterpoint to the weightless feel of so many contemporary, CGI-heavy productions.

Every impact has consequence; every collision is a symphony of crunching metal, shattering glass, and the groan of tortured machinery. The action on display is impressively multifaceted. The hand-to-hand combat is a showcase of brutal efficiency, particularly in a multi-person brawl staged within the claustrophobic confines of a public tram. Here, the environment itself becomes a weapon, and the choreography is both savage and spatially aware.

Yet, the vehicular stunts remain the undeniable centerpiece, the signature that defines the trilogy. The car chases are not merely pursuits; they are ballets of destruction that careen through public parks and crowded city streets.

Director Guillaume Pierret’s camera captures this chaos with astonishing clarity and precise editing, allowing the audience to fully appreciate the speed, the near misses, and the skillful maneuvers without resorting to the disorienting shorthand of shaky-cam techniques. Lino’s genius as a “gearhead” is treated as a core plot device, with the construction of his new, specialized, armor-plated machine becoming a crucial narrative beat in itself.

This all builds to a climax of stunning scale and raw ambition, a final, awe-inspiring chase sequence that pits Lino’s custom creation against overwhelming forces, including a menacing helicopter, serving as the ultimate apotheosis of the series’ ethos of real-world mechanical mayhem.

The Man Behind the Machine

This maelstrom of spectacle is anchored by the potent physical and emotional core of Alban Lenoir’s performance as Lino. He is more than an actor in a role; he is a credible and compelling action hero, a physical force whose quiet, brooding determination convincingly explodes into raw, kinetic violence.

His intense commitment, the palpable effort in his movements, grounds the most extraordinary stunts in a sense of authentic human exertion and pain. He makes the impossible feel possible. The supporting cast effectively orbits this powerful center.

Nicolas Duvauchelle’s portrayal of Areski gives the film a worthy and charismatic adversary, a necessary rival whose own desperation mirrors Lino’s obsession. Stéfi Celma, as the steadfast Julia, provides the crucial human connection to Lino’s otherwise isolated quest, an anchor of loyalty in a sea of betrayal.

The cast performs their roles with lean effectiveness, providing the necessary emotional stakes to support a film that is fundamentally about physical conflict. This human element, while spare, is strong enough to ensure the astonishing spectacle matters.

Last Bullet premiered globally on Netflix on May 7, 2025,

Full Credits

Director: Guillaume Pierret

Writers: Guillaume Pierret, Caryl Ferey

Producers and Executive Producers: Rémi Leautier

Cast: Alban Lenoir, Nicolas Duvauchelle, Stéfi Celma, Gérard Lanvin, Pascale Arbillot, Anne Serra, Julie Tedesco, Diego Martín, Ramzy Bedia

Director of Photography (Cinematographer): Jean Baptiste Jay

Editors: Jacob Souza

Composer: Guillaume Roussel