Action films come and go. Bronson, Norris, Schwarzenegger, and Stallone were the big names of my generation. Then came Willis. Each stands tall in their respective roles, driving toward savior status. They don’t require thanks, but we thank them anyway for serving as unlikely heroes featured in stories where people needed an unlikely hero to save them. Now, and not ironically, we have Ron Perlman as Pappi to save the day in Jonathan Sobol’s The Baker.

Perlman, whose likable screen presence is seared into your memory from the moment he appears on screen in The Baker, is unassuming. He commands respect while not arbitrarily asking for it. His estranged son, Peter (Joel David Moore), shows up on his doorstep asking for help protecting his daughter, Delfi, played by newcomer Emma Ho. At the same time, Peter attempts to placate a mid-level drug dealer, Vic, played by Elias Koteas. Koteas’ performance is particularly strong as the film progresses.

The script, written by Paolo Mancini and Thomas Michael, injects flashes of The Baker’s past while not spending an inordinate amount of time addressing his background as the ensuing drama unfolds. That’s the kicker with The Baker – it rightly focuses on the drama of trying to solve the story’s problems instead of the action.

There is action, but tastefully so.

Sobol knows how to frame his sun-drenched images, which initially seemed to indicate that the cast was in California. The film, shot in the Cayman Islands, has more of a Miami feel. However, the pacing feels far more laid back than the films of the action stars I mentioned. There is a necessity to solve who’s behind the story. Perlman handles each encounter swiftly and deftly. He knows how to handle himself, earning our respect even in his descent into hell.

Helping him is first-time actress Emma Ho. Her innocence paves the way for men haunted by their pasts, not necessarily seeking absolution nor forgiveness, but peace. The chaotic moments that permeate the film’s start give rise to a lack of trust between Peter, who is constantly looking for quick money and a lot of it, and a daughter who needs stability. Delfi is a rascal, and Ho plays the role convincingly.

The crew chasing after Pappi and Delfi are relentless. Fueling that relentlessness is Harvey Keitel’s character, ultimately revealed as The Butcher, who is as laid back as the pacing mentioned earlier implies. His quiet dealing with Vic is where the tension comes into force. The one drawback of the assumed uncertainty is that it doesn’t keep. It’s a minor nitpick in an otherwise well-acted set of sequences between Koteas and Keitel.

The Baker is full of character moments. However, the story leaves threads hanging, and the action, though swift, is not as bounteous as earlier action films accomplished. Mark Lester’s Commando is probably as good a comparison as possible. Ho is more believable as someone in distress than Alyssa Milano, but the two films’ innocence drives them.

Sure, you might be rolling your eyes, but Pappi’s and Delfi’s plight is genuine – a single father, an estranged grandfather, and a penchant for just wanting to be loved are fundamental human traits. We need foundations to offer a set of values, knowing right from wrong. The story feeds into an aspect of the character that I won’t reveal here. That element adds another welcomed layer, transitioning The Baker from an outright action film, like Commando, into a more modern human drama.

Perlman has a lot to do with the story’s evolution. His reluctance to get involved is just as crucial as Delfi’s journey. Mancini and Michael’s script infuses the need to be loved into the characters, and they all play it to the hilt. Their story projects a bit, rendering some of the moments we expect to eventually happen a little less impactful than Lester’s action film. However, it doesn’t detract from the experience. You’ll walk into a theater, and an hour and 41 minutes later, you’ll walk out satisfied.

The Baker doesn’t break any new ground. It isn’t revolutionary like Die Hard was 35 years ago. What sells it is the human-interest angle; the need to protect and, in turn, be protected. And, on that note alone, The Baker succeeds.