Honestly, movies like The Rhythm Section usually find a bigger audience than this one did. It had the pedigree. Produced by Barbara Broccoli and Michael G. Wilson—the stewards of the James Bond franchise—and directed by Reed Morano, who basically defined the visual language of The Handmaid’s Tale. It starred Blake Lively, sporting a series of jagged wigs and a haunted look, alongside Jude Law. Yet, when it hit theaters in early 2020, it didn't just stumble; it vanished.
It’s a weird one.
The film follows Stephanie Patrick, a woman whose life spirals into addiction and sex work after her family dies in a plane crash. When she discovers the crash wasn't an accident but a terrorist bombing covered up by the government, she undergoes a brutal transformation into an assassin. But it isn't a "girl boss" movie. It isn't John Wick. It's a messy, sweaty, panicked look at what happens when a normal person tries to do something way out of their depth.
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What People Get Wrong About the Failure of The Rhythm Section
Most critics pointed at the box office numbers and called it a day. It’s true: the movie earned only about $6 million against a $50 million budget. That's a disaster by any metric. But the narrative that it failed because it was a "bad movie" is lazy.
There were a few things working against it. First, the production was plagued by a massive delay. Blake Lively shattered her hand during an action sequence in Dublin, and they had to halt filming for months while she underwent multiple surgeries. That kind of momentum killer often leads to a disjointed final product or a loss of marketing energy. By the time it came out, it felt like a "leftover" film.
The Problem With Marketing Expectations
The trailers sold a slick, high-octane spy thriller. People walked in expecting Atomic Blonde or a female-led Bourne Identity. Instead, they got a grim, slow-burn character study.
Stephanie Patrick isn't good at being a spy. She fails. She throws up. She misses her shots. She gets beaten up—badly. If you’re expecting a power fantasy, The Rhythm Section is going to irritate you. But if you want a grounded look at the psychological toll of revenge, it’s actually quite brilliant. Morano’s direction favors tight, claustrophobic close-ups that force you to feel Stephanie’s breath and her terror.
The One-Shot Car Chase You Need to See
Even if you hate the rest of the movie, there is one sequence that stands out as a masterclass in action filmmaking. It’s a three-minute, one-take car chase through the narrow streets of Tangier. Unlike the flashy, rapid-fire editing we see in most Marvel movies, this shot stays inside the car with Stephanie.
You see the gear shifts. You see her eyes darting to the rearview mirror. You feel every bump.
It’s immersive. It’s stressful. It captures the sheer chaos of a chase where the driver isn't a professional racer, but a terrified amateur trying not to die. Most modern action movies use CGI to smooth over the edges of a stunt, but Morano and her team leaned into the jittery, raw energy of the moment. This scene alone makes the film worth a rental or a stream.
Why Blake Lively’s Performance Was Overlooked
Blake Lively has always been a bit of a polarizing figure in Hollywood. People see the Met Gala red carpets and the lifestyle brand, and they forget she can actually act. In The Rhythm Section, she’s unrecognizable.
She stripped away the "movie star" sheen. Her performance is physical. You can see the weight of grief in how she carries her shoulders. She spent months training for the role, but not just in the gym. She worked on the "rhythm" of her breath—which is where the title comes from. Jude Law’s character, a disgraced MI6 agent named B, teaches her that her heart is the drums and her lungs are the bass. To survive, she has to control her "rhythm section."
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It’s a metaphor that actually works on a technical level for the audience. The sound design follows her heartbeat. When she loses control, the soundscape gets messy. When she focuses, it tightens. It's subtle work that usually gets rewarded, but because the film bombed, Lively’s commitment was largely ignored.
The Mark Burnell Connection
The movie is based on the first novel in a series by Mark Burnell. There are actually four books: The Rhythm Section, Chameleon, Gemini, and The Third Woman.
Burnell wrote the screenplay himself. That’s often a double-edged sword. On one hand, you get a faithful adaptation of the character’s internal monologue. On the other, authors sometimes struggle to kill their darlings, leading to a plot that feels a bit overstuffed or episodic. The movie tries to cover a lot of ground—London, Scotland, Madrid, Tangier—and sometimes the pacing stutters.
A Departure From the "Strong Female Lead" Trope
We talk a lot about "strong female characters," but usually, that just means a male character archetype played by a woman.
Stephanie Patrick is different. She’s weak. She’s grieving. She makes terrible choices. There’s a scene early on where she tries to buy a gun and it goes about as poorly as you’d expect. The film acknowledges that trauma doesn't make you a superhero; it makes you broken. There’s a persistent sadness to the film that I think was too "downer" for a January release.
The Soundtrack and Visual Aesthetic
The score by Steve Mazzaro (produced by Hans Zimmer) is industrial and cold. It matches the cinematography, which moves from the gray, damp landscapes of Scotland to the dusty, yellow-hued heat of Morocco.
Morano used a specific color palette to signify Stephanie’s mental state. In the beginning, the colors are washed out, almost monochromatic. As she finds her purpose—even if that purpose is violent—the saturation increases. It’s a visual representation of a person coming back to life, even if that life is a nightmare.
Why It Matters in 2026
Looking back on The Rhythm Section now, it feels like a bridge between the old-school thrillers of the 70s and the modern obsession with gritty realism. It’s a "B-movie" with an "A-list" budget and "Art-house" sensibilities.
It’s also a reminder of how fickle the movie business can be. A hand injury, a bad release window, and a misunderstood trailer can bury a project that hundreds of people spent years of their lives on.
Is it a perfect movie? No. The middle act drags, and Jude Law’s "tough love" mentor routine is something we’ve seen a thousand times before. But it’s an interesting movie. In a world of cookie-cutter streaming content, "interesting" counts for a lot.
The Actionable Takeaway for Film Buffs
If you’re tired of the same three action tropes, give this one a shot on a Friday night. Don't expect John Wick. Expect a story about a woman who is drowning and decides to drag her enemies down with her.
Watch it for the Tangier car chase. Watch it for the Scottish landscape shots. Watch it to see a different side of Blake Lively.
To get the most out of the experience, pay attention to the sound design—specifically the way the breathing patterns change during the tension-filled sequences. It changes how you perceive the action. If you’re a fan of the genre, it’s worth comparing this to Red Sparrow or Hanna. It’s much more grounded than the former and less "fairy tale" than the latter.
Ultimately, The Rhythm Section is a study in grit. It’s about the fact that revenge isn't a clean, cinematic arc. It's a dirty, exhausting process that leaves you just as broken as when you started. That might not make for a billion-dollar blockbuster, but it makes for a much more honest film.
Next Steps for Your Viewing Experience:
- Watch the Tangier sequence first: If you aren't sure about the movie, find the car chase clip online. If that doesn't grab you, the movie won't either.
- Check out the source material: Mark Burnell’s books are actually more detailed regarding the tradecraft Stephanie uses, which the movie has to gloss over for time.
- Listen for the "Rhythm": Use a good pair of headphones. The binaural elements of the sound design, particularly the heartbeat and breathing, are central to the film’s identity and are lost on standard TV speakers.