This was awful.
Nothing else to add.
Hit Man (2023).
Tag Archives: Action
Courage Under Fire (1996).
A.K.A. the Meg Ryan movie that isn’t an insufferable rom-com – there is no diner buffoonery or a premise based around emails (it was 1998, I suppose) here. And she is fine in this. One might even mistake her for an actual actor, and I can comfortably say the same about Lou Diamond Phillips, who excels in this overlooked war drama as the dodgy one.
Nothing wrong with this film at all. Denzel great as always, a young Matt Damon shows up looking like a rake, the action is cracking, the story easy to follow, no thematic minefields on display, and I learned a few things watching it.
I’ll pass this knowledge on to someone one day if we ever discuss the Gulf War.
The Fall Guy (2024). Pointless.
This was okay, remnants of Gosling in Drive (2011), but this is the non-moody, non-existential version. It’s not funny at all, though, and completely uninspired. And I turned it off an hour in as it wasn’t going anywhere in a good way.
But I’m sure all concerned had a laugh making it.
Last Action Hero (1993).
It’s okay if all over the place with a jarringly inconsistent tone – too violent but not violent enough, it’s half a kids’ movie, half Lethal Weapon, which doesn’t work. Maybe they should have just stuck with the one genre or infused it with more magic, the escapism of the movie theatre and all that.
Spot the cameo helps pass the two-hour running time, and it has its moments when you think it could be relaxing into a movie that goes somewhere. But it doesn’t.
It’s stupid. But it’s not stupid-stupid. At least you get two Arnies for the price of one in this hit-and-miss deconstruction of action cinema.
Good poster.
Copshop (2021).
The ominous opening set the tone despite the humour, some of it actually funny, and this was never dull even though the Assault on Precinct 13 (1976) scenario kept most of the shenanigans indoors.
Gerard Butler wasn’t dire! He’s sometimes capable of being okay and here is one of those occasions. Frank Grillo, Cutty from The Wire, the cast is not an issue and every character was credible.
Rather thrilling hokum, genuinely inexperienced cops of mostly limited talents really struggling when up against hardened criminals.
It does, however, wholeheartedly exhibit that infuriating habit of American cinema, characters constantly addressing one another by their names during every single exchange they have, as if the audience will have forgotten who they are.
Just stop doing it. It needs to end.
John McTiernan. Someone give him a job.
The Holy Trinity (Predator, Die Hard, Red October) with the Bruce Willis gem at the centre, McTiernan redefined or perhaps created the modern action film, a wee cradle of movies with wit, imagination, state of the art pyrotechnics, and an unnerving ability for shot selection. You can’t lose that talent, despite the Odysseus-long hiatus from a camera-wielding exploit.
He’s back from Shawshank as a model ex-prisoner.
John, just get a camera, sound kit, and a few pals together and make a short your new calling card.
Terminator: Dark Fate (2019). Urgh.
The reasons multiple, I put off watching this for a long time.
My two cents:
Again, the needy references to superior fare, the sheer desperation of bad writing, the mindless action with seemingly nothing at stake.
The ‘characters’ here buy the premise so instantly that you’re immediately questioning their validity, and as they have no dimensions it’s doubly irritating. They are chucked into unimaginative shoot-outs from the get-go. Who are these people? No idea, so I don’t care. There’s an antagonist who is as threatening as a poodle slurping a bowl of Bacardi Breezer, a hero sent from the future who is just plain dull, and Linda Hamilton looks more bored than I was watching her being bored.
I got to 48 mins. I couldn’t take any more torture and turned it off before Arnie arrived. So boring, so without logic or merit, so pedestrian on every level. This has to be the end of this extended shower of shit.
No more.
Under Siege (1992).
Early Seagal is almost as ludicrous as latter-day Seagal. The cut-off point is everything after On Deadly Ground (1994), an incomprehensible riot of a shitter which somehow stars Michael Caine.
His Casey Ryback displays no vulnerability, is never once close to losing a violent encounter, doesn’t break a sweat, and appears to give zero fucks about anything going on around him. The funniest motif is all of the other ‘characters’ informing the audience at every opportunity that Casey Ryback is not mortal.
Supremely entertaining movie with quite the catchy score which totally isn’t a rip-off of JFK (1991) ….
Dalton was 1989’s Liam Neeson.
Let’s get the epic quote out the way first:
“One: never underestimate your opponent. Expect the unexpected. Two: take it outside. Never start anything inside unless it’s absolutely necessary. And three: be nice.”
That’s a guide to life right there.
How to define a very good daft movie? It’s Road House (1989), the quotes ready-made for a dissertation, an ’80s tribute from the ’80s. And it’s so violently entertaining.
That Swayze mullet should be in a museum.
Mad Max: Fury Road (2015).
I wasn’t expecting much from this, the picture released decades after the last instalment. It smelled of a desperate reboot, and all the chatter of on-set discord (to put it lightly) between the leads wasn’t encouraging. But how stunning this movie turned out to be, a nonstop thrill-ride serving as the antidote to today’s CGI-laden borefests.
It looks like it was storyboarded to the max, and thank fuck as it’s expert spectacle. So many movies give the impression that the cinematographer and director never even discussed the visuals before the day’s shoot. Fury Road, however, defines … creative carnage.
I recommend the best way to view this treat is as a double bill with Mad Max 2: The Road Warrior (1981). Fittingly, Roger Ebert’s review of the Mel Gibson classic captures the appeal of both:
Wanderings and ... wonderings. 