“In a world where peace demands blood, one man must choose who he wants to be without the mask.”
A man in silver spandex dances in tighty-whities. An eagle hugs its owner. And bullets spray while glam metal shreds through the speakers. In “Peacemaker,” James Gunn rips open the superhero genre and gleefully spills blood, laughter, and a surprising amount of heart onto the screen.
Following his scene-stealing turn in The Suicide Squad, Christopher Smith, a.k.a. Peacemaker (John Cena), returns—alive but battered, physically and emotionally. Once a zealot who’d “kill every man, woman, and child” in the name of peace, he’s now forced into another clandestine mission by the government, led by the sardonic, no-nonsense Clemson Murn (Chukwudi Iwuji) and a team of misfit operatives who’d rather be anywhere else.
The mission? To hunt down an alien threat known as Project Butterfly—creatures infiltrating human hosts and planning global domination. But as the bodies pile up, Peacemaker starts to question whether his quest for peace is merely a convenient excuse for violence.
James Gunn orchestrates a symphony of insanity: absurd humor, hyper-violent action, and surprisingly poignant explorations of trauma and masculinity. The show barrels from brutal fights to comedic riffs without losing rhythm. Every scene brims with color and attitude, from neon-lit brawls to hilariously awkward office banter.
Yet amid the chaos, “Peacemaker” digs deep into its hero’s cracked psyche. Cena is a revelation—simultaneously deadpan hilarious and heartbreakingly vulnerable. Behind Peacemaker’s brash exterior lies a man haunted by a monstrous father (Robert Patrick as the vile, racist White Dragon) and suffocating guilt over his past crimes. His desperate longing for connection turns him into both a comedic disaster and a deeply sympathetic figure.
The supporting cast sparkles: Danielle Brooks as Leota Adebayo, torn between duty and conscience; Freddie Stroma as Vigilante, a sociopathic sidekick with perfect comedic timing; and of course, Eagly—a digital eagle whose loyalty is as pure as his comedic timing is perfect.
From its bombastic opening credits dance number to its shocking final episodes, “Peacemaker” is wildly entertaining, unexpectedly moving, and gloriously weird. Gunn’s blend of biting satire and genuine emotional resonance crafts a show that isn’t just about a violent anti-hero—it’s about a man trying to figure out who he really is when the mask comes off.
And sometimes, even a man who “loves peace so much he’d kill for it” deserves a second chance.
