SWEET GIRL. Liam Neeson movie, but with Jason Momoa

While watching Sweet Girl, I couldn’t shake the feeling that instead of Jason Momoa, who plays one of the two main roles, it should have been Liam Neeson in that spot. Because this Netflix feature film is a classic, low-budget action flick of the kind that the famous actor from Ulster churns out these days by the dozen: a nearly lone hero (though often accompanied by a sidekick) fighting against a “bad force,” which is often corrupt. In Sweet Girl, the main character Ray Cooper does exactly that: he stands up against a powerful pharmaceutical corporation that he blames for the death of his wife.

Of course, that’s an oversimplification—in reality, Ray lost his wife, who had cancer, due to the actions of the BioPrime corporation, which used its influence to block a rival, much cheaper cancer treatment from hitting the market. After Amanda Cooper’s death (played in a small role by Adria Arjona, known from Andor), her husband and daughter Rachel (Isabela Merced) struggle to move on, and Ray channels his grief into plotting revenge against BioPrime. When he finally puts his plans into action, he and his daughter have to flee—not just from the powerful pharmaceutical company seeking retaliation, but also from law enforcement. Their escape takes up about half the runtime of Sweet Girl and delivers everything you’d expect from a “Liam Neeson-style” action movie, especially plenty of fight scenes where the hero usually wins, though at great physical cost.

At one point, though, Sweet Girl introduces a psychological twist that may not sit well with many viewers. Let’s just say that there’s a shift in narrative focus, which significantly undermines the story’s credibility.

The director of Sweet Girl, Brian Andrew Mendoza, is making his directorial debut here, but he knows the industry—after all, he produced other titles starring Jason Momoa, such as Braven and the series Frontier. So it’s no surprise that he chose Momoa for the lead role in his debut behind the camera. Both deliver solid performances by the standards of undemanding action cinema. Momoa makes flashy use of his muscles, fists, and booming voice, though he sometimes lacks the charisma expected from an action movie star. Mendoza’s direction is competent, though not particularly dynamic. The result is an action movie like dozens—if not hundreds—of others we’ve seen over the years. Many such films used to go straight to video or VOD, where they faded into obscurity. Sweet Girl has one big advantage, though: it’s backed by the most powerful production and streaming platform of our time, which guarantees Mendoza’s film a multi-million viewer audience.

But even Netflix can’t guarantee that it’ll be remembered for long.

Jason Momoa lends Sweet Girl his name and demigod looks, but young wolf Isabela Merced, born in 2001, holds her own against him in terms of viewer appeal. Merced is making increasingly bold strides in the film world—she’s not only strikingly beautiful but also charismatic and talented. She makes that very clear in Sweet Girl, earning high marks for her performance, which unfortunately gets undercut at times by the occasionally ridiculous script. As the movie nears its conclusion, some of the plot developments become harder and harder to believe. While Rachel Cooper’s bravery isn’t entirely unrealistic, some of the feats the screenwriters assign to her border on absurdity. That takes a toll on the authenticity of Rachel’s character, who otherwise comes across as a particularly resourceful and determined teenager.

I feel like I’m saying and writing this more and more often, but Sweet Girl is yet another average film in Netflix’s portfolio. It seems the streaming giant wants to produce exactly this kind of content—competent, unremarkable, perfect time-fillers for the undemanding viewer.

After all, it’s easier to make yet another formulaic action film than to try something groundbreaking and risk failure, right?