Dave Bautista has never been one to chase roles purely for nostalgia or paycheck glory. The man who transformed from WWE heel to beloved Drax the Destroyer in Guardians of the Galaxy has spent recent years deliberately shifting toward dramatic, character-driven work—projects that challenge him beyond brute force. Yet when the call came for Chad Stahelski‘s ambitious reboot of the 1986 cult classic Highlander, Bautista didn’t hesitate. In a recent exclusive interview with Collider, he revealed the single factor that sealed the deal: the script. “I was so blown away by the script,” he said, his voice carrying the same intensity he brings to his on-screen battles. “Without saying too much, this is such a great reboot. We’re still paying tribute and giving a nod to the original, but making it new and fresh and exciting, and also just universe-building. It’s just so much bigger than the original.”
That script—penned by Michael Finch (American Assassin)—did more than impress; it reignited a passion Bautista had harbored for over a decade. “This goes back a long time,” he explained. “I’ve actually been chasing this role. I think I probably tweeted about being the Kurgan more than 10 years ago.” Back in 2015, when an earlier version of the reboot was in development, Bautista was already circling the part of the film’s terrifying antagonist. Life, scheduling conflicts, and shifting studios intervened, but the dream never died. When Stahelski—fresh off revolutionizing action cinema with the John Wick saga—took the helm, Bautista thought the opportunity had slipped away again. Then came the script. “Chad sent it over, I read it, and the next day we talked about it. I was like, ‘Fuck yeah, I want the role!’”
What exactly in those pages left Bautista “blown away”? Insiders and Bautista’s own teases point to a bold expansion of the Highlander mythology. The original 1986 film, directed by Russell Mulcahy and starring Christopher Lambert as Connor MacLeod, introduced the immortal world with a simple, elegant premise: immortals from across history duel in secret until “there can be only one,” claiming “The Prize”—ultimate power over all existence. Clancy Brown’s Kurgan was the perfect villain: a hulking, sadistic barbarian who reveled in violence, rape, and chaos, embodying pure evil in a leather trench coat and wild mane.
Stahelski’s version keeps the core—“There can be only one”—but blows it wide open. The script reportedly builds a richer, more interconnected universe, weaving in deeper lore about The Gathering (the final convergence of immortals), The Quickening (the transfer of power upon beheading), and ancient secret societies like The Watchers (with Jeremy Irons leading a shadowy faction). It spans centuries but grounds the spectacle in modern stakes: moral ambiguity, loss across lifetimes, and the curse of immortality in an age of surveillance and technology. Bautista’s Kurgan isn’t just a rampaging brute; he’s a craftier, more psychologically layered threat—still terrifyingly physical, but with cunning that makes him even deadlier.
“The action is on par with John Wick,” Bautista teased, a statement that carries massive weight coming from someone who trained under Stahelski’s stunt team. Expect long-take sword fights, brutal choreography blending historical weaponry with contemporary grit, and set pieces that feel operatic yet visceral. Early set leaks from London and Scotland confirm the hype: photos show Bautista in full Kurgan regalia—blood-soaked priest’s frock hinting at a disguise or holy-ground subversion—towering opposite a battered, war-torn Henry Cavill as Connor MacLeod. One viral image captures the two immortals mid-clash near Westminster Abbey, blades flashing under night lights, with Cavill’s Connor looking exhausted yet defiant after returning from a pre-production calf injury that delayed shooting into January 2026.
Cavill, no stranger to swordplay from The Witcher and Mission: Impossible – Fallout, brings quiet intensity to Connor—the Highland clansman born in 1518 who loses everything yet endures. Opposite him, Bautista’s Kurgan promises a foe who matches Cavill’s physicality pound-for-pound. At 57, Bautista admits the pressure: “Clancy Brown was in his 20s when he played the Kurgan. I’m in my 50s. I hope I can do the world justice.” But he’s bulked up, trained relentlessly since August 2025 (even juggling overlapping shoots on Road House 2), and channeled his inner “heel” from WWE days. “I like being the bad guy,” he said. “The Kurgan is the villain you love to hate.”
The supporting cast elevates the stakes further. Russell Crowe as Ramirez, the ancient Egyptian mentor who teaches Connor the ways of the immortal; Karen Gillan, Marisa Abela, Djimon Hounsou, Max Zhang, and Kevin McKidd fill out a world of allies, rivals, and lovers across time. Jeremy Irons as the Watcher leader adds intellectual menace, potentially twisting the observer role into active antagonism. Queen’s legendary soundtrack—reimagined and remixed—will pulse through the chaos, honoring the original while fueling Stahelski’s kinetic style.
Production hasn’t been smooth. Announced years ago, the project cycled through directors (from Justin Lin to Juan Carlos Fresnadillo) before Stahelski locked in. Delays piled up: script polishes, Cavill’s injury during sword training, overlapping commitments. Principal photography finally kicked off in Scotland in early 2026, with London shoots capturing modern-day duels amid historic landmarks. Leaked footage shows practical stunts—no heavy CGI crutches here—emphasizing real blades, real impacts, real danger.
Bautista’s enthusiasm isn’t just actor speak. He sees this as more than a one-off: a potential franchise revival 40 years in the making. The script’s universe-building teases sequels exploring other immortals, forgotten eras, and the Prize’s true nature. If successful, Highlander could spawn a saga rivaling John Wick‘s longevity—each film escalating the Gathering, deepening the lore, and delivering sword fights that redefine action cinema.
For fans who’ve waited decades—through TV series spin-offs, failed reboots, and endless “there can be only one” memes—this feels like vindication. The original film’s blend of fantasy, rock opera, and existential melancholy captured lightning in a bottle. Stahelski, with his mastery of sustained action and world-building, seems poised to bottle it again—bigger, bloodier, bolder.
As set photos continue leaking—Cavill riding motorcycles bloodied, Bautista looming in shadowed churches—the excitement builds. Bautista didn’t sign on for nostalgia. He signed on because the script promised something rare: a villain worth hating, a hero worth rooting for, and a world worth revisiting again and again.
In a landscape crowded with superheroes and sequels, Highlander arrives as a primal promise: immortality isn’t a gift—it’s a battlefield. And when these two titans clash, the screen will burn.
There can be only one. But first, there will be war.
