PUBLISHED
May 03, 2026
KARACHI:
Bob Odenkirk’s name might not evoke the same instant gravitas as Clint Eastwood, Keanu Reeves, or Liam Neeson, but over the past few years, he has quietly built a filmography that places him closer to that league than many would have imagined.
After embracing chaos in Nobody and its sequel, he returns with Normal—a film that plays on its understated title while delivering anything but an ordinary cinematic experience. Here, he isn’t just an everyman dragged into violence; he is a man trying to hold onto order in a place where disorder is the norm.
In Normal, appearances are deceiving. The small, snow-covered town of Normal, Minnesota, seems quiet and uneventful at first glance. Sheriff Ulysses, played by Odenkirk, arrives as an interim replacement expected to keep things steady for a few weeks. His job appears simple—blend in, maintain order, and leave without incident.
But as is often the case in stories driven by buried secrets, the calm surface begins to crack almost immediately. A seemingly amateur bank robbery triggers a chain reaction that exposes a deeply rooted conspiracy involving not just the townspeople and local authorities but also the far-reaching influence of the Yakuza.
What follows is not merely a survival story but a slow unravelling of trust. The town that greets Ulysses with warmth soon turns hostile, and the lines between friend and foe blur beyond recognition. The narrative cleverly escalates from a contained crime scenario into a full-blown siege, where everyone has something to hide, and nothing is as simple as it initially appears.
However, there are several reasons why Normal feels different from the films that inspire it. First and foremost, it adopts the spirit of classic Westerns while simultaneously breaking their rules. Traditionally, Westerns thrive on isolation—what happens in a remote town stays there. In Normal, that idea is flipped on its head.
A bank robbery in a quiet American town sends ripples all the way to Japan, alerting the Yakuza, who arrive not as distant threats but as active participants in the chaos. This blending of local and global stakes gives the film a unique edge, making it feel both intimate and expansive at once.
Films like Taken, John Wick, Assault on Precinct 13, and Nobody have long thrived on the idea of a single individual standing against overwhelming odds. These stories strip conflict down to its rawest elements—survival, vengeance, and control. Normal steps confidently into this lineage but distinguishes itself by distorting the formula. It doesn’t just present a lone hero; it places him in a morally fractured environment where being right doesn’t necessarily mean being safe.
Directed by Ben Wheatley and written by Derek Kolstad, the film feels like a snow-covered descendant of 1970s Westerns, where one man’s presence is enough to alter the fate of an entire town. Yet, instead of offering clear moral binaries, it thrives on ambiguity, forcing both its protagonist and its audience to navigate a world where every decision carries consequences.
A Western in disguise
At its core, Normal is a Western in disguise. The setting may be a frozen Midwestern town instead of a sun-scorched desert, but the themes remain unmistakably familiar. A stranger arrives, senses that something is wrong, and is ultimately forced into a confrontation that reshapes the community.
Odenkirk’s Sheriff Ulysses embodies the reluctant gunslinger archetype. He is observant, measured, and initially unwilling to engage in violence. However, like the classic anti-heroes of the genre, he adapts quickly when circumstances demand it. The film takes its time establishing this dynamic. Early interactions with townspeople feel warm and inviting, creating a deceptive sense of normalcy that makes the eventual betrayal more impactful.
The influence of filmmakers like John Ford and Sergio Leone is evident throughout. One can draw parallels to Clint Eastwood’s films, such as The High Plains Drifter and Pale Rider, in which a lone figure disrupts a corrupt system. Similarly, echoes of For a Few Dollars More can be found in the way Ulysses’ backstory gradually unfolds, adding depth to his motivations.
John Wick factor
While its structure leans heavily on Western tropes, its execution is firmly rooted in modern action cinema. Written by Kolstad, Normal seamlessly blends the stylised intensity of John Wick with the grounded, almost absurd realism of Nobody.
The action sequences are dynamic yet unpredictable. Rather than relying solely on polished choreography, the film embraces chaos, allowing violence to erupt suddenly and with brutal consequences. This unpredictability keeps viewers on edge, ensuring that no moment feels entirely safe.
What truly sets the film apart is its tonal balance. Beneath the violence lies a layer of dark humour that surfaces in unexpected ways. The film’s climactic sequence—a dinner gathering involving townspeople, criminals, and Yakuza members—is a perfect example. It begins with an uneasy sense of calm before descending into complete mayhem, highlighting the film’s ability to shift tones without losing coherence.
Importantly, the film respects its runtime. At approximately 90 minutes, it delivers a concise and engaging experience. There is little room for unnecessary detours, and the narrative maintains a steady pace throughout. However, viewers should be prepared for its intensity. The violence is not stylized to the point of detachment; it is raw, sudden, and at times deeply unsettling, making Normal unsuitable for those with a low tolerance for graphic action.
A backstory worth the wait
One of the film’s more compelling elements is its handling of backstory. Ulysses initially appears as a straightforward lawman seeking a quiet assignment, but subtle hints suggest a more complicated past. The film carefully withholds key details, allowing curiosity to build before revealing the truth in its final act.
This approach adds emotional weight to the narrative. Instead of relying solely on action to drive engagement, the film invests in character development, giving viewers a reason to care about Ulysses beyond his survival. The gradual revelation of his past not only enhances his character but also reframes the film’s events, adding layers of meaning to his decisions.
The background score must also be mentioned here, as it effectively highlights what is happening on-screen. Be it a fight sequence in slow motion or a dinner featuring adversaries in a classic diner, the songs draw the audience in as if they were meant for the same purpose.
A question of chemistry
The film’s casting choices yield mixed results. Henry Winkler delivers a memorable performance as the town’s mayor, bringing both charm and underlying unease to the role. His presence adds credibility to the film, and even in limited screen time, he leaves a lasting impression.
However, Lena Headey’s casting feels less convincing. While she is undoubtedly a talented performer, her portrayal occasionally feels misaligned with the film’s tone. There are moments when the character seems to echo Natasha Lyonne’s style, creating an inconsistent tone.
Also, casting Jess McLeod as Alex felt forced; a normal boy or a normal girl would have been more appropriate, but the binary character was added for no reason to appeal to a certain community. Yes, one could argue that this condition might have been the reason behind one of the film’s initial murders, but that’s not the case. Had the character been named Alice or Alisha, the result would have been the same.
The rest of the cast, composed largely of lesser-known actors, contributes to the film’s unpredictability. This lack of familiarity works in its favor at times, as it prevents the audience from forming preconceived expectations. However, it also results in occasional tonal mismatches, where performances do not always align seamlessly.
The new normal?
Ultimately, Normal succeeds because it challenges the very concept of normalcy. In this world, corruption is widespread, trust is fragile, and morality is constantly shifting. Ulysses is not just fighting external threats; he is navigating a reality where alliances are temporary, and survival depends on adaptability.
The film cleverly balances its darker elements with moments of levity, ensuring that it never becomes overwhelmingly bleak. The humor, though subtle, provides necessary relief, making the more intense sequences easier to process.
At its heart, Normal is a film of contradictions. It is familiar yet unconventional, restrained yet chaotic, and grounded yet absurd. It takes its time to establish characters, builds tension effectively, and delivers action sequences that feel both impactful and earned.
Normal is not a perfect film, but it is compelling. Its uneven casting and occasional tonal inconsistencies prevent it from reaching its full potential, yet these flaws do little to diminish its overall impact.
What it offers instead is a refreshing take on a well-worn genre. It respects the traditions of Westerns and modern action films while simultaneously redefining them. It proves that even within familiar frameworks, there is still room for innovation.
For viewers willing to embrace its quirks, Normal delivers a gripping, thought-provoking experience. It is a film that lingers—not just because of its action, but because of the questions it raises about trust, morality, and the true meaning of normalcy.
And, in a cinematic landscape often dominated by predictability, that alone makes it worth watching.
The writer is a freelance contributor who writes about film, television, and popular culture
All facts and information are the sole responsibility of the writer
