This review may contain spoilers
Mantis (2025) — A Gritty Blade in the Killer’s Arena
From the very start, Mantis throws you into a world where every knife stroke matters and trust is a rare luxury. I came in knowing some of the cast and expecting action, but what I found was a drama that balances pulse-quickening thrills with quiet moments of tension and introspection. It doesn’t ask for your sympathy easily — it demands your attention, and it earned mine.
At its center is Yim Si-wan as Han-ul, the assassin known as “Mantis.” He brings a fierce confidence and layered vulnerability — he’s lethal, but not without inner conflict. Park Gyu-young as Jae-yi is equally compelling, her presence dynamic and emotionally complex. Their shared history (training, rivalry, expectations) gives weight to each interaction without needing excessive exposition. Jo Woo-jin as Dok-go, the retired legend, adds gravitas and tension, reminding us that in this world the old guard still looms large. The supporting cast — including Benjamin (Choi Hyun-wook) and Sul Kyung-gu as Min-kyu — round out the landscape, each with distinct motives and presence.
What impresses is how Mantis foregrounds action without forgetting emotion. The fight choreography is sharp and fluid, often blending hand-to-hand combat, weapons, and improvisation in a way that feels grounded, not over-the-top spectacle. The pacing dips into quieter scenes just when it needs to let characters breathe, to show the weight of their choices and the cost of this underworld. The cinematography leans moody, shadows stretched long, and the score layers itself under every moment — you feel tension even in silence.
This is my opinion: Mantis may not reinvent the assassin genre, but it proves it can still slice you with familiar blades. Some may say it leans on tropes or that certain plot threads feel a little underdeveloped — and that’s fair — but for me, every actor here played their role with commitment, and the emotional stakes held firm. I demand a show to feel, and Mantis delivered.
At its center is Yim Si-wan as Han-ul, the assassin known as “Mantis.” He brings a fierce confidence and layered vulnerability — he’s lethal, but not without inner conflict. Park Gyu-young as Jae-yi is equally compelling, her presence dynamic and emotionally complex. Their shared history (training, rivalry, expectations) gives weight to each interaction without needing excessive exposition. Jo Woo-jin as Dok-go, the retired legend, adds gravitas and tension, reminding us that in this world the old guard still looms large. The supporting cast — including Benjamin (Choi Hyun-wook) and Sul Kyung-gu as Min-kyu — round out the landscape, each with distinct motives and presence.
What impresses is how Mantis foregrounds action without forgetting emotion. The fight choreography is sharp and fluid, often blending hand-to-hand combat, weapons, and improvisation in a way that feels grounded, not over-the-top spectacle. The pacing dips into quieter scenes just when it needs to let characters breathe, to show the weight of their choices and the cost of this underworld. The cinematography leans moody, shadows stretched long, and the score layers itself under every moment — you feel tension even in silence.
This is my opinion: Mantis may not reinvent the assassin genre, but it proves it can still slice you with familiar blades. Some may say it leans on tropes or that certain plot threads feel a little underdeveloped — and that’s fair — but for me, every actor here played their role with commitment, and the emotional stakes held firm. I demand a show to feel, and Mantis delivered.
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