Worldbreaker (2025): Proof You Can’t Always Afford the Apocalypse

Five years ago, a tear in the fabric of reality brought creatures to our world from an alternate dimension bent on our destruction. A father hides his daughter on an island to keep her safe, while he prepares her for survival and the battles to come. However, when the world is about to break, no place is safe.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=epsPl-v-Tkc

There’s a particular kind of sci-fi I have a soft spot for. Not the billion-dollar, green-screen-until-your-eyes-bleed variety. I’m talking about the lean, scrappy stuff. The kind that knows it doesn’t have the budget to blow up the moon, so instead it quietly asks, “What if the moon exploded… emotionally?”

That’s Worldbreaker in a nutshell.

This is a series that opens with a premise that’s been passed around sci-fi circles like a well-loved paperback: reality tears open, monsters spill through, humanity panics, society collapses faster than a folding chair at a sumo match. Familiar? Sure. But familiar doesn’t mean bad - pizza is familiar, and I still order it like it’s a personal discovery.

At the center of the chaos is a father doing what dads do best in the apocalypse: over-preparing, under-explaining, and assuming emotional distance counts as character development. He hides his daughter on an island, trains her for survival, and braces for the inevitable moment when the universe taps him on the shoulder and says, “Cute plan. No.”

What Worldbreaker does surprisingly well - especially given its modest budget - is tension. This show understands that dread doesn’t come from what you see, but from what you almost see. Long stretches of quiet. Darkness that feels intentional… or at least plausibly intentional. The sense that something is out there, watching, waiting, and definitely not respecting your personal space.

And let’s talk about Milla Jovovich, because the woman could read a cereal box in a collapsing bunker and still project authority. She’s been living in genre worlds her entire career, and it shows. There’s a comfort level here - like she knows exactly how much gravity to bring to a scene without chewing the scenery or apologizing for the script. She grounds the show in a way that keeps it from floating off into late-night-cable obscurity.

Luke Evans, meanwhile, brings a steady, serious presence that pairs well with Jovovich. There’s an unspoken genre shorthand between them - probably forged somewhere between sword fights and stop-motion chicken jokes - that works. You buy their world because they buy it. And in sci-fi, belief is half the special effects budget.

Now, here’s where things get a little… wobbly.

The plot doesn’t exactly zig when you expect it to zag. If you’ve watched enough apocalypse stories, you’ll see certain turns coming from a mile away - like spotting a gas station explosion in a Michael Bay movie before the match is even lit. That predictability doesn’t ruin the experience, but it does flatten some of the suspense when you start mentally checking boxes ahead of the script.

Then there’s the teenager. And look, I get it - teenagers saving the world is practically a genre requirement at this point. But for someone positioned as humanity’s potential ace in the hole, she struggles mightily with some very basic survival fundamentals. There are moments where you find yourself thinking, “If the fate of the world rests on this decision, maybe we workshop it first.”

The biggest frustration, though, comes near the end - right when the story feels like it’s revving up for something big. You can sense the show edging toward a climactic confrontation, the kind where everything collides… and then it stops. Not in a bold, artsy way. More in a “we ran out of runway and fuel” way. You don’t need a fireworks factory finale, but a little more payoff would’ve gone a long way.

Visually, the series leans heavily into darkness - sometimes effectively, sometimes suspiciously. There are stretches where you can’t help but wonder if the shadows are there to heighten mood… or quietly cover the fact that CGI costs money and groceries are expensive. Probably both.

Still, despite its limitations, Worldbreaker has something many bigger shows lack: heart and ambition. It’s a sci-fi story that clearly wanted to be more than its resources allowed, and I respect the hell out of that. It swings hard, even when it can’t always connect.

If you love science fiction - especially the thoughtful, apocalypse-adjacent kind - there’s enough here to keep you engaged. It’s not a genre-defining masterpiece, but it’s tense, occasionally frustrating ride that proves you don’t need a Marvel-sized budget to tell a compelling end-of-the-world story.

Just maybe keep your expectations calibrated somewhere between indie gem and Sunday-night sci-fi binge.

⭐ Final Ranking

6.5 / 10