Action movies promise larger-than-life stars and even bigger explosions. There is an indefinable coolness of the hyper-serious assassin walking away from the carnage of a set piece and delivering a one-liner. Think Rambo: First Blood Part II, Die Hard, or any number of Arnold Schwarzenegger classics from the 80s. That action-movie coolness carried well into the 2000s as Vin Diesel showcased street racing, international heists, and “family” in the Fast & Furious franchise. From Tom Cruise in Mission: Impossible to Keanu Reeves in John Wick or Charlize Theron in Atomic Blonde, action stars have a persona. But then Baby Assassins gave the world something totally different. The brainchild of Yugo Sakamoto, the Baby Assassins franchise was equal parts classic action film and YouTube-era filmmaking, owing as much to internet culture and creator filmmaking as it does to Donnie Yen.
By 2021, the term YouTuber was more than a buzzword; it was a viable career and avenue for creativity. The platform became home to some of the most inventive stuntwork and action filmmaking on the internet. Creators like Freddie Wong and RocketJump were expanding the lexicon of action through epic shootouts made at a fraction of Hollywood’s cost. And The Martial Club was giving lessons in fight choreography that would one day lead them to Everything Everywhere All at Once. Each of these creators was grounded in creator-first storytelling, crafting something unique in action cinema. YouTube had democratized action filmmaking long before major studios realized it, and Baby Assassins is a core case study of how internet natives redefined what modern action cinema could look like.
The internet native approach is the biggest distinction between Baby Assassins and the typical action flick. The series focuses on Mahiro (Saori Izawa) and Chisato (Akari Takaishi), both working as professional assassins in Japan. But between killing their targets and battling Yakuza, the two assassins spend most of their time dealing with the mundane. The series features massive action sequences but never spares the awkward, anxious humor of the two roommates as they navigate getting part-time jobs or the pain of putting down their phones. Sakamoto built a world of deadly assassins but found humor in the cozy slice-of-life moments in between missions. It’s personality-driven internet storytelling filtered through John Woo levels of gunplay. The downtime matters as much as the violence because a modern audience connects with personality as much as spectacle. By the time Mahiro and Chisato face down their enemies, the audience is just as excited to see the showdown as they are to watch the two decompress over cake afterward.
Yet, in contrast to the comfy, cozy side of Baby Assassins, is action as a cinematic language; a marriage of style and substance to create true movie magic. The trilogy and even the television series feature grounded fight choreography. Izawa, Takaishi, and the entire stunt team bring Ong-Bak level physicality, with a classic Hong Kong ballet of bullets in every shootout. But every sequence carries the rhythm of internet-era filmmaking. Neither the Yakuza fight in Baby Assassins nor the compound battle in Baby Assassins 3 ever devolves into mindless spectacle. Sakamoto thrives on intimacy and intentionality, crafting every fight scene with rewatchability in mind. Every sequence feels ready to be clipped, reshared, and passed through the internet’s endless cycle of ‘like, comment, subscribe.’ The immediacy of the action plays with the changing nature of cinema through the internet, finding the perfect intersection between comfort watch and adrenaline rush.
Internet culture has made a massive impact on filmmaking, to say the least. But it’s more than referencing memes or creating an entire movie about emojis. It’s the rhythms, pacing, characterization, and audience expectations. Zola spoke this language as the title character tweeted out her wild, dark, and mind-blowing adventure through Florida. Meanwhile, Bodies Bodies Bodies turned a Snapchat mistake into an entire slasher premise. But more than social media taking center stage, both films understood the language and rhythm of online life. It was how Zola talked about life as a stripper and broke the fourth wall. It was the lack of Wi-Fi—and the characters’ inability to cope without it that made Bodies Bodies Bodies a perfect black comedy. Baby Assassins takes all the same internet-driven storytelling but funnels it into action. Yet, unlike Bodies Bodies Bodies or Zola, Baby Assassins soaks in internet culture a little longer to create something unmistakably Gen Z.
Embracing the weird may be the biggest secret behind Baby Assassins’ online aura. The franchise feels modern, avoiding cynicism and self-importance and never taking itself too seriously. Mahiro and Chisato embrace the sincere and “ugh” of having to interact with strangers. They are anti-cool protagonists: emotionally awkward, eager to eat good food, and content to chill on the couch. It’s authenticity over slickness. The assassins never feel mythic. And that is precisely why the action sequences hit so hard. The contrast between high-level stuntwork and choreography, paired with the wholesome demeanor of the protagonists, Mahiro and Chisato, is grounded in the modern zeitgeist, representing the best of Gen Z, willing to take on anything while still wearing pajamas.
More than just a generational action series, Baby Assassins is a global cinematic mash-up. The cross-pollination of influences showcases the global filmmaking community. YouTube dissolved filmmaking borders and became a low-cost film school for creators daring enough to experiment. Baby Assassins pairs YouTube personalities with TikTok humor, anime pacing, and modern Japanese action filmmaking. Creating something that feels almost like a modern Cowboy Bebop—a genre hybrid born from the internet. Action cinema cannot be defined by country; it evolves online. Corridor Digital puts out incredible VFX, makeup-influencers create Hollywood-level horror cosplays, and The Martial Club found its way to A24.
The future of filmmaking has already happened. YouTube and internet culture have quietly rewired movies, from the jokes to the fight scenes to the characters themselves. For as much as audiences complain about movies restating dialogue in case audiences get on their phones, the power of the internet gave Baby Assassins a Rolodex of influences and inspiration to create something simultaneously modern and timeless. The indie-film dream of the 1990s, ‘anyone can be a filmmaker,’ is truer than ever, as YouTube has pushed it beyond the stratosphere. In a world that is chronically online, seeing two assassins vlog about plushies while fighting international hitmen seems to encapsulate the YouTube experience, letting the audience take in the cozy flicks and karate kicks.
The internet didn’t kill cinema—it rewired how movies move, joke, fight, and breathe.
