Brenner (Ellen Hollman), a special forces Army ranger, is seeking retaliation for the murder of her husband at the hands of cartel members in Stephen Durham’s Army of One. Unfortunately, the bloody, hammy, and clichéd antics of Army of One fall short. While it is understandable that Army of One doesn’t have the budget or desire to fulfill the same suspense level as Park Chan-wook’s Lady Vengeance or Coralie Fargeat’s Revenge, the film is unable to exploit the revenge formula or B-movie territory with great success.
Brenner is happily married to Dillion (Matt Passmore), a wounded police detective. Looking to get away from the stress of their jobs, they seek solace in the serenity of the backwoods of Alabama. But before savoring the tranquility, they make a stop at a local diner where they meet the uncongenial local folk, including the stout, pig-ignorant Butch (Gary Kasper) and his Janus-faced mother (Geraldine Singer). Butch and Mama are wary of Dillion and Brenner’s presence in the bucolic town, while Dillion and Brenner have suspicions about the other two.
“…seeking retaliation for the murder of her husband by the hands of cartel members…”
While out hiking, the married couple comes across a secluded cabin hiding an illicit drug and gun storage room. Before getting a chance to flee, they are captured by the cartel and interrogated. The ruthless gang shoots Dillion and Brenner but neglected to check her pulse before throwing her body in an open grave. Brenner rises from the grave, physically and emotionally wounded, but fueled by choler and vengeance. Exercising her survival and combat skills she learned from being a distinguished Army ranger, Brenner hunts the people who murdered her husband until there’s not one body left standing.
Stephen Durham’s action vehicle is clearly on a familiar path, leading to a foreseeable destination. Even so, the rapid action sequences alone enliven an otherwise uneven and insipid revenge tale.
For the most part, Dillion and Brenner’s relationship is summed up by infectious giggles, quips, and kisses. Underneath this veneer of glossy romance, Dillion is plagued by unsavory memories of a police incident involving masked men. He even has a bodily scar reminding him of the incident. Woefully, such traumatic depth is left inhumed (there isn’t even a telling interaction where Dillion discloses his internal woe to Brenner, or he simply isn’t given the luxury of time).
"…unable to exploit the revenge formula or B-movie territory with great success."
