Twenty and thirty years ago, giants roamed the cinematic landscape, dropping iconic blockbusters that studios are still mining today. Although action films haven't reached the near-extinction levels of some other genres, there's little argument that modernity's loathing for all things traditionally male has caused a tremendous decline in quality. Male heroes are seemingly verboten unless paired with a superior female counterpart who ultimately saves the day. Brash, can-do man's men are treated with disdain, and the action is generally subpar, filmed in a blue-screen jungle of tennis balls and polka-dot faces.

So, when Netflix, which isn't exactly known for having an amazing track record of quality originals in any genre, is set to release an action flick, there really isn't much reason to get excited. Yet, War Machine has been their number one watch since its release, and viewership reportedly blows away anything in the theaters right now. The question is, is it Worth it?

Alan Ritchson's ill-conceived comments on Donald Trump, Christianity, and the Police notwithstanding, the man is an action star, or at least should be. Two decades ago, the roided-out behemoth would have been the heir apparent to Schwarzenegger and Stallone, featuring in two or more blockbuster commercials for Guns & Ammo a year. Today, we should count ourselves lucky that Netflix produced a passably entertaining action flick not starring a 90lbs waif with a bad attitude and blue hair.

War Machine isn't exactly German-engineered. Derivative to its marrow, with bumbling logic that often and uncomfortably stress tests the tensile strength of Suspension of Disbelief well beyond its maximum load, War Machine is equal parts Terminator, Predator, War of the Worlds, and every other war movie you've ever seen, with a sprinkling of other iconic films tossed in.

Secondary characters are very secondary, and all opportunities to build emotional resonance between the cast are waved away like a fart. With only a weak latticework built around plot and character, War Machine survives by mainlining Ritchson's doctor-prescribed testosterone and relentless, well-shot action.

Fortunately, that turns out to be enough. Director Patrick Hughes understands the assignment in a way many modern filmmakers don’t: if the story is thin, keep things moving and make the spectacle worth watching. The firefights are loud, the effects are convincing enough, and the pacing rarely gives you time to dwell on the script’s more questionable decisions.

This isn’t a film that will be remembered twenty years from now, nor is it likely to spawn a franchise destined to live on the shelves beside the classics that inspired it. But it does something increasingly rare in modern Hollywood—it delivers exactly what it promises. War Machine is a straightforward action movie built around a physically imposing lead, big guns, and bigger explosions.

Sometimes that’s all the genre really needs.