“Delightful.” That’s the best word for The Fall Guy. It’s a movie about moviemaking that loves moviemaking. It’s a Tinseltown fairy tale. In The Fall Guy‘s world, going big at San Diego Comic-Con (“Hall H!” is a repeated refrain) guarantees that a nerdy, bombastic film will go big with general moviegoers. (Mr. Pilgrim would like a word.) 

The Big Bad Wolf is Tom Ryder, a gormless hunk with a smoldering gaze (Aaron Taylor-Johnson). He’s the biggest action star in the world despite stealing credit from a stunt team he treats, at best, with disdain. The Heroic Lumberjacks are the passionate, the driven, the caring. For instance, Jody Moreno (Emily Blunt), a director pushing through writer’s block to capture what she’s carrying in her heart. Or Dan Tucker (Winston Duke), a stunt coordinator who knows the angles, timing, and how to bring out the best in his crew. And, of course, there’s Colt Seavers (Ryan Gosling), a stuntman willing to get set on fire or launch himself into a wall until the illusion looks like truth. Moviemaking is, in part, an act of love. The Fall Guy knows this.

Colt may be a ragged goofball who’s fallen off his horse (not literally, though given his skills, he could), but he’s still a knight. He cares deeply for first-time director-and-one-time-lover Jody. That’s why he comes out of a self-imposed retirement triggered by the same accident that led him to ghost her. He wants to ensure the science fiction western war epic Metalstorm isn’t her last film. Or that a conspiracy, gun-toting goons, and potent hallucinogens don’t prevent it from seeing the light of day at all.

Jody, in turn, finds her blocked creativity re-sparked by her reunion with Colt. Well, once she’s worked out some pent-up anger, anyway. One advantage of your ex being a stuntman in your movie? You can set him on fire. Repeatedly. He’s someone she can bounce ideas off of as ideas rather than revenue-generating content. Knowing how far he can go pushes her to go as far as she can go. She’s good, very good. She knows it. But knowing isn’t the same as feeling. Having a peer who gets her for all their shared baggage is a big step towards Jody feeling her skill in her bones. She must make Metalstorm sing. She can make Metalstorm sing. She will make Metalstorm sing.

The Fall Guy‘s love story is quite charming, primarily thanks to Blunt and Gosling. Initially, a significant hunk of their previous history unfolds in montage. Director David Leitch’s execution of that montage, with Gosling’s narration, feels closer to telling than showing. The images suggest Colt and Jody’s love rather than prove it. But the relationship clicks when they’re paired again, whether in person or via split-screen. Jody’s thrilled by Colt in action. Colt’s awed by Jody’s vision. They work together well and like working together. That feeds the fire of their rekindling romance. It’s very sweet and even sexy at times. Not to Challengers‘ level, but that’s not what The Fall Guy‘s trying to do. Still, in its most sweeping moments, when everything Colt and Jody feel for each other and everything they’d do for each other collapses into one frame, the erotic charge is undeniable.

Beyond Jody and Colt’s sweetness, The Fall Guy gets wild. Colt’s hunt for Ryder hops from goofy to harrowing and back—when it’s not mooshing the two together. In practice, this means that Leitch, screenwriter Drew Pearce, and stunt designer (the first position of its kind)/coordinator/second unit director Chris O’Hara thread a needle between “Colt can take this” and “Colt is in danger.” It’s one thing to put on a mouthguard and hurl yourself in front of a car while hallucinating a fantasy animal. It’s another thing to flee from murderous mercenaries packing heavy firepower. Gosling, working in concert with stunt performers Ben Jenkin and Justin Eaton (general doubles), Logan Holladay (driving double), and Troy Brown (high fall double), proves game every step of the way. Taylor-Johnson proves a hoot as the just-out-of-reach quarry. It’s difficult not to conclude he’s best deployed in colorful supporting roles.

As in The Nice Guys and Barbie, Gosling’s physical work here turns on the dissonance between his beauty and his unmatched ability to flail. Colt is less of a sadsack than The Nice Guys‘ March and less of a naif than Ken. Still, he is in over his head—whether because he’s so filled with drugs he’s seeing sound effects or, well, there isn’t really a way to get into a fistfight with a mercenary in the bed of a garbage truck that’s all but snapped off its bay and is spinning through the streets of Sydney at high speeds without freaking out. When it’s audacious, only-in-the-movies nonsense, he’s hysterical.

Gosling’s comfort with being silly serves him just as well during The Fall Guy‘s dramatic moments as its comic beats. Colt isn’t John Wick. He’s skilled, clever, and can throw a good punch, but he’s figuring out no-nonsense combat with maim-happy mooks on the fly. Gosling rolls with the unfolding chaos, as do Duke and Blunt, both of whom get multiple fun fights of their own. When the peril steps forward, as when Colt’s left stunned by the malefactor behind everything’s petty cruelty, he’s someone doing his best to get through. That gives the film several moments where, ragamuffin hangdog though he might be, Gosling makes Colt cool. It’s the same sort of cool that made Drive and Blade Runner 2049 sing, a hero (classic or anti) who breaks through barriers and expectations to stand against the vicious. 

Colt Seavers is a full-on, no-nonsense capital letters Movie Star performance from Gosling. The Fall Guy, at its best—during its big stunts and when Gosling and Blunt get to play off each other—showcases that with style. It’s shaggy and a bit awkward elsewhere, but hey, Colt Seavers is shaggy and a bit awkward, too. And he rules. It’s well, well worth seeing.

The Fall Guy Trailer: