Manly Action Flick Challenge

"Action Jackson... Some say he didn't even have a mother - that some researchers at NASA created him to be the first man to walk on the moon without a space suit. Others say his mother was molested by Bigfoot and, uh, Jackson is their mutant offspring."

Action Jackson is pure '80s blaxploitation - plenty of savagery, sex and sinew with a predominantly African American cast. The crowd-pleasing meatloaf at the centre of this macho action film is neither Stallone nor Schwarzenegger, but their former sidekick Carl Weathers instead. If you're familiar with the movies of maverick '80s super-producer Joel Silver, you'd have an accurate idea of what to expect from Action Jackson: there are shootings, stabbings, flaming corpses, broken bones, explosions, careening vehicles, and a nourishing dose of humour in the form of snappy one-liners. Fans of '80s action romps are destined to enjoy it.

Jericho "Action" Jackson (Weathers) is a Detroit police sergeant with an apparent inability to control his actions during heated situations (hence his notorious moniker). Jackson is pitted against esteemed car magnate Peter Dellaplane (Nelson) who's suspected of masterminding a murder spree against local officials from the auto workers' union. In typical action film fashion, Jackson dashes from clue to clue, and is framed for murder. With Dellaplane's mistress Sydney (Vanity) in tow, Jackson sallies forth to prevent an assassination, vindicate himself and bring down Dellaplane, all the while facing plenty of opportunities to live up to his titular nickname.

One thing's for certain: Action Jackson wastes no time before pumping up the noise levels. Five minutes into the movie, a flaming corpse plummets from a high-rise and smashes through a glass ceiling. Alas, the action subsequently takes a backseat while the film focuses on plot and characters. Unfortunately, the plot is hackneyed and the characterisations remain one-note. Despite clocking at a mere 90 minutes, the film feels unusually bloated since quality action sequences are on the short side. There's a bit too much flab.

Make no mistake: Action Jackson is a no-brainer action film. It's overflowing with so many genre conventions that it's almost as if the screenwriter had a checklist beside him while penning the script.
Utterly useless policemen? Check.
Slipshod depiction of police procedures? Check.
A few opportunities for the buff hero to remove his shirt and display his impressive physique? Check.
Amusing one-liners just prior to the death of a bad guy? Check.
The list is endless. This is a strictly by-the-numbers fare. Action movie enthusiasts will be able to predict every beat, and any casual movie-goer will be able to foresee the outcome for any conflict that arises. Action Jackson is also irretrievably unrealistic. The bad guys are unable to shoot straight, characters turn up at the most convenient time, and so on. It's all quite hopeless.

Gripes notwithstanding, Action Jackson is very enjoyable - it's a straightforward, brainless B-Movie blast of entertainment. One-time stunt maestro Craig R. Baxley's direction lacks the oomph to convincingly propel the movie out of the doldrums, but he gets the job done. As to be expected from a product of the '80s, a lot of the action is clichéd stuff (for instance cars just happen to run into trucks hauling flammable tanks which are just eager to burst into fiery goodness).

Carl Weathers had a single note to play as Jericho Jackson, and he plays it terrifically with all the necessary charisma. However Weathers lacks presence, and isn't intimidating enough. R&B singer Vanity is passable as Sydney, and she's given a few chances to prove that her singing skills outshine her acting abilities. Unfortunately, the budding romance between Sydney and Jackson feels obligatory and unnatural.
Craig T. Nelson is a serviceable villain, though he's nothing remarkable. Sharon Stone also appears for a brief period, and she's there purely to look nice (a job she accomplishes well). There are a bunch of other actors who make cameo appearances, including two of Weathers' Predator co-stars (Bill Duke and Sonny Landham), an '80s James Bond villain (Robert Davi), and two actors who played terrorists in Die Hard (Dennis Hayden and a very recognisable Al Leong).

Action Jackson is an enjoyable guilty pleasure. It's packed with genuine '80s flair and dubious plot holes, in addition to explosions, stunts and special effects. It's a shame, then, that the film is only ever-so-slightly exciting.

"You can open the safe with your balls or without 'em."

For fervent action buffs, Joshua Tree (also known as Army of One) is a definite must-see - it stars action icon Dolph Lundgren, and it's directed by legendary stunt coordinator Vic Armstrong. It's a breathless exercise in hardcore action violence, and it moves at such an exhilarating pace that its stupidity and conventionality can be easily overlooked for the sake of entertainment.

In Joshua Tree, the Dolphster plays former race car driver Wellman Santee. With his racing days long behind him, Santee's livelihood is now transporting exotic stolen cars. During a run-in with the police, however, his partner (Foree) is killed along with a highway police officer in a shootout, and Santee is framed for the policeman's murder. But while being transferred to prison, Santee escapes. He abducts a young woman named Rita (Alfonso), unaware that his hostage is actually a deputy sheriff. What ensues is a variety of action sequences as Santee struggles to clear his name.

Logic is disposed of fairly quickly into this feature (as is any sense of originality). For instance Rita looks surprisingly calm considering she has been kidnapped. She's also given endless opportunities to escape or turn the tables on her abductor, but she rarely capitalises on these opportunities. There's also the fact that police officers are unable to shoot properly (despite, you know, being trained to use firearms). During an encounter with Chinese gangsters at one stage in the film, cliché after cliché is doled out - the gangsters are incompetent shooters while Santee is a perfect marksman, and guns even run out of bullets at the most convenient of times. Stupidity really kicks in when the climax comes around. Said climax features a series of brutal hand-to-hand combat battles, but the combatants never succumb to any serious harm despite being pounded with fists and inanimate objects continuously. Some of the protagonists are shot too, but bullets don't seem to faze them. However, as these things are virtually unwritten requirements for action films of the '80s and '90s, they're somewhat forgivable.

Joshua Tree was written by Steve Pressfield, who had previously penned the Steven Seagal vehicle Above the Law. Pressfield takes a formulaic tale of dirty cops and a man out for revenge, and constructs a fairly involving narrative. The trajectory of the plotline is the very definition of predictability, but it's the action and the decent dialogue that hold our interest. Plus, we've come here to see the Dolphster kicking some butt...and in this respect, it delivers in spades! Another unwritten law for action films is one-liners - since a lot of actioners are hilariously ridiculous and tongue-in-cheek, humour is often employed to match the tone. Screenwriter Pressfield delivers in this aspect too.

With renowned stuntman and action director Vic Armstrong at the helm (a man who handled the stunts for the Indiana Jones films, a lot of the James Bond films, Starship Troopers, Patriot Games and Universal Soldier, just to name a few), one can expect Joshua Tree to deliver oodles of satisfying action, which it does! Armstrong delivers breathtaking, over-the-top action set-pieces, ranging from a John Woo-esque shootout in a warehouse to a high-octane car chase featuring a Ferrari and a Lamborghini. Blood squibs explode left, right and centre...this is an unapologetic R-rated action film. To top everything off, Joel Goldsmith has provided a terrific score - it features atmospheric background music for the quiet sections, and chest-thumping music for the action. But the editing is occasionally very choppy, and there are a number of technical faults in general.

Due to the excessive violence of Armstrong's directorial debut, the censors went bonkers and the film was edited down for a number of countries (like Britain, where it still received an '18' rating even after the graphic violence was toned down). Bizarrely, three different endings exist for this flick. Unfortunately (as of 2009), the version of the film containing the best ending (which wraps up everything) is yet to be released on any format (be it DVD or Blu-ray).

Dolph Lundgren earned his chops as an action star after his appearance in Rocky IV opposite Sylvester Stallone. Although Lundgren never truly acts much during the film (he merely says lines instead of meaning them), he's perfect for the role of Santee - he has the physique of an action hero, and he knows his way around an action sequence. Best of all, he's competent enough to hold our interest. Alongside the Dolphster is the duo of George Segal and Beau Starr as the main villains of the picture. It's easy to hate these guys, which makes Santee's plight easier to sympathise with. And as the trademark woman of the picture with the perfect body, there's Kristian Alfonso. Naturally, her character gets naked at one point (laughably gratuitous) and she ends up becoming the Dolphster's love interest.

At the end of the day, Joshua Tree is just a disposable '90s actioner that remains essential viewing for genre aficionados. This ain't anything groundbreaking, but it's definitely an entertaining distraction best enjoyed when the thinking side of your brain craves a rest.

"It's a go. Take them down!"

Americans hate terrorism. This is not an audacious statement considering America's "War On Terror" throughout the early 2000s and beyond, but terrorism has been loathed as far back as the '80s. Currently during the early 21st Century, an intricate system of intelligence is utilised to track down terrorists and an intricate system of weaponry is used to blow them to hell. Back in the mid-80s, the Americans didn't have the benefit of such advanced technology... Instead, they relied on Chuck Norris. In 1986's The Delta Force, the Chuckster is portrayed dispatching Arab terrorists using an array of Norris-esque weaponry, ranging from his martial arts skills to large bazookas to a motorcycle that fires rockets. The film is unbelievably cheesy, often unintentionally hilarious, and rather pro-American.

After an introductory combat sequence which demonstrates the skills of the American protagonists, the action moves onboard a large passenger airplane. A pair of Arab terrorists hijack this plane, taking all passengers hostage and ordering the captain to reroute to Lebanon. These terrorists claim to be freedom fighters for a revolutionary organisation, but their cause is unknown...they just have a thing against America. A group of elite American commandos known as the Delta Force - led by Col. Nick Alexander (Marvin) and Maj. Scott McCoy (Norris) - are sent in to save the hostages and restore American honour. Rather than trying their hand at the fine art of negotiation, the Delta Force cut to the chase and pull out the heavy artillery.

The Delta Force was released in 1986; one year after a real-life plane hijacking in Athens. (This was on a TWA plane. In the film the plane which accommodates the hijacking is an AWT plane... clever.) The first hour of this movie is mostly devoted to retelling the events of this hijacking, but the second hour (when the macho Americans show up) has little basis in reality. This final half sends the message home that the best way to execute foreign policy on America's part is to shoot or blow up all terrorist threats. All this gung-ho business is like a different film altogether. It's full Chuck Norris territory: lots of machismo, gunfire and explosions. It's all very patriotic with the Americans saving the day and the hostages singing the American anthem. That's the '80s for you.

Considering this is an '80s action film with Chuck Norris and Lee Marvin, one expects The Delta Force to be chock-full of terrorist ass-kicking goodness and brainless action. Alas, the meaty action doesn't commence until the first hour has passed. Even with a plenty of action as the climax nears, the unusually long runtime of over two hours will prove a serious test of anyone's Chuck Norris attention span. The running time might've been more tolerable if the film provided interesting exposition, a compelling story or meaningful character development...but The Delta Force provides none of this - it's instead packed with filler. Empty threats against obnoxious hostages and hollow, repetitive dialogue does not make gripping cinema.

The Delta Force also exploits blatant stereotypes - there's the disillusioned soldier who returns to action because of his noble sense of duty, the abuse of a kindly priest, and even a pregnant lady who could go into labour at any moment. Meanwhile the terrorists have no legitimate motive or objective. At times, the depiction of these Arab terrorists is borderline racist - they're single-mindedly scheming, vicious, and they look very grubby.

If nothing much else, The Delta Force can be admired for its star-studded cast. Chuck Norris, as usual, just plays himself. The bearded action icon usually delivers his dialogue in a subdued fashion with no great conviction...but he's still watchable. This film marked the final screen appearance of Lee Marvin. He's pretty badass, though he's never given a chance to test his acting abilities. Also in the cast is a Who's Who of B-Movie star-power: Martin Balsam, George Kennedy (star of those Airport films from the '70s), Robert Forster (sporting dark hair, dark skin, a little moustache and a thick accent as the head Arab terrorist), Robert Vaughn, Shelley Winters, Steve James, Bo Svenson, and many others. The direction by Menahem Golan is adequate, and Alan Silvestri's score alternates between intense and cheesy power pop.

All in all, The Delta Force is your standard American cheerleading propaganda flick, with Chuck Norris and Lee Marvin holding the pompoms. The action is at times thrilling and the novelty value of seeing the Chuckster in '80s mode never wears off, but that's all there is to this one. For a film which lacks anything even resembling an intricate story or deep characterisations, there sure is plenty of talking. And considering this is a Chuck Norris movie, this is a problem. There's a far more agreeable 80-minute actioner lying somewhere within this somewhat tedious 125-minute feature.

"The misfortunes of war!"

As soon as the movie industry felt the dust of the Vietnam War had settled, a deluge of Vietnam-related movies started pouring in. There were films such as Apocalypse Now, The Deer Hunter and Platoon which handled the source material respectfully. But the mid-late 1980s was the era of bazookas, guns and superhero-style action heroes. Once First Blood was released, a string of films flooded the market that attempted to transplant the history of the Vietnam War into the '80s action format. Furthermore, the subject of American soldiers left behind in Vietnam functioned as a catalyst for several '80s action flicks (Rambo: First Blood Part II being the most prevalent). The Chuck Norris vehicle Missing in Action was one such movie. This isn't the most egregious entry in this particular sub-genre, but it's hardly a classy fare. This is just your typical Chuck Norris romp: there's action, nudity, one-liners, stunts and a few moments of pure fantasy. And best of all, it's fun!

For this film, the Chuckster plays an American officer named James Braddock who spent several years at a Vietnamese Prisoner of War camp and believes there are still American soldiers being held captive in Vietnam. The plot, such as it is, involves Braddock returning to Vietnam in an attempt to locate a POW camp. With assistance from an Army buddy (in the form of M. Emmet Walsh) and an assortment of weaponry, Braddock ventures deep into the jungle to free the American MIAs.

Cue perfunctory explosions, action sequences, and lots of 'all gooks are villains' propaganda. The other actors featured in this movie function as mere props for Chuck Norris to dispose of in whatever way he sees fit. The only character who's even mildly developed is Braddock since the supporting characters merely make an appearance to move the story along before curiously vanishing. The film's attitude towards Vietnamese soldiers and officials is borderline offensive since they're depicted as unequivocally shifty, villainous and deceitful... But on the other hand, this is the 1980s! This is the age of cartoonish stereotypes!

The Chuckster is grudgingly assisted here by a woman at the U.S. Embassy in Vietnam (who seems like she was intended to be a love interest, but no real romance ever occurs...), and an ex-colleague who hooks him up with a bunch of backstreet arms dealers. Inexplicably, these arms dealers possess a large cache of machine guns as well as a helicopter and a bulletproof raft in a tiny storage room. It's also peculiar that Braddock just happens to have the thousands of spare dollars necessary to purchase all this expensive equipment. But then again, a viewer isn't supposed to question the plot - Missing in Action is about the action and violence, not a sensible storyline or anything deep.

And my word, it delivers in the action department with commendable aplomb. Gear yourself up for an unrelenting onslaught of rousing shootouts, car chases and explosions, with Chuck Norris in the midst of it all in regular Chuck Norris mode. Director Joseph Zito (who later collaborated with the Chuckster for Invasion U.S.A. in 1985) manages the action adeptly, though these aren't the most spectacular set-pieces you'll ever witness. Jay Chattaway's accompanying score is of the usual '80s standard; combining the tense with the cheesy (though patriotic music is in surprisingly short supply). All of this stuff combines to generate an engaging escapist romp guaranteed to leave a smile on the face of any action fan.

It's possible to watch a Chuck Norris vehicle like Missing in Action and come away with the misimpression that the bearded hero has not said a word. He occasionally talks, of course, but his eloquence is strictly physical. Norris (with his minimalist, taciturn acting style that often earns him substantial criticism) has never displayed any genuine acting ability, but he's skilful enough to carry a simple, bullet-riddled, crowd-pleasing action movie like this one.
Norris' celebrated martial arts skills don't feature very prominently in this escapade. Instead, he mostly relies on machine guns or grenades. The iconic moment of Missing in Action depicts Norris rising out of a river in slow motion (looking suitably ferocious in green fatigues and a matching headband, along with his M-60) and blowing holes in three soldiers who made the grave mistake of laughing at him.

The moral of this story is clear: if a government denies a widely-believed possibility, they run the risk of Hollywood green-lighting a string of B-Grade films about it. Those who genuinely hate Missing in Action, perceiving it as jingoistic or racist propaganda, are missing the point of the film completely - it was never intended to be anything provocative or liberal...it's just a good old-fashioned guy flick featuring Chuck Norris who's a formidable adversary for the Vietnamese enemy.

Interestingly, if one watches the credits you'll see a certain Jean-Claude Van Damme listed as a stuntman.

"I never went in for embroidery, just results."

The Dirty Dozen is a quintessential man's movie - a blokey salute to courage, determination and true grit. Director Robert Aldrich seizes a traditional World War II adventure tale and cleverly blends it with anti-authoritarian attitudes that were flourishing in America by the late 1960s (as the unpopular Vietnam War continued to escalate). Amazingly for such a beefy two-and-a-half-hour movie, The Dirty Dozen is nimbly paced and not a moment feels inessential. It's unable to hold a candle to the visceral war films of later decades (like Saving Private Ryan), but The Dirty Dozen remains undeniably enjoyable and captivating.

Set just before D-Day, the film involves a cynical army major named John Reisman (Marvin). As a prelude to the Normandy invasion, Reisman's superiors order him to carry out a classified mission: recruit and train twelve army prisoners (who are condemned to either death or life imprisonment), and lead them behind enemy lines to destroy a Nazi chateau. This chateau houses a variety of high-ranking German officers, and killing them could disrupt the enemies' chain of command. Reisman's twelve soldiers (known as the Dirty Dozen because they were stripped of their bathing privileges as a form of punishment) will be granted a full pardon if they return from their suicide mission alive.

The story is straightforward, but our intimate involvement with the characters carries this simple story a lot further. The Dirty Dozen fleshes out its characters as much as the story demands without resorting to meandering bonding scenes or dated montages. Even despite the fact that some of these characters are alleged murderers, they're wonderfully humanised and likeable.

The team of misfits initially detest one another, but they're brought together through their hard, laborious training. By the third act the twelve soldiers share a unique brotherhood, but this is not long-lived. The climax may not be the most spectacular combat sequence in history, but the film's brutal honesty in displaying the systematic elimination of members of the Dirty Dozen is astonishing. Normally in mainstream cinema, the heroes survive and save the day. But in The Dirty Dozen, the heroes learn a cruel reality of war: people die.

The Dirty Dozen is based on the novel of the same name by E.M. Nathanson. Neither the book nor the film has any particular historical antecedent, though it was common practice in wars to send criminals into battle with the promise of a full pardon if they survive. Those who are sticklers for detail will find a lot to nitpick about The Dirty Dozen - its depiction of the military and of military procedures is slipshod, the wargames sequence is at times absurd, and its set-up of the climax (with guards in short supply) is contrived. The biggest flaw, however, is that the Nazis are written as too conveniently stupid. Had they been that dumb in real life, the war would have been won in a matter of days. These problems don't interfere too severely with one's overall enjoyment of the film though, which is a testament to Aldrich's directorial skill.

The Dirty Dozen was created during an era before computer-generated special effects became an integral part of the moviemaking process. Therefore a significant portion of the budget for this film went towards constructing an actual mansion for the final battle. The pyrotechnics and practical effects in general are refreshing in an age of CGI-overwhelmed blockbusters. The climax itself is an impressive action sequence brimming with nail-biting intensity. It definitely lacks a certain visceral punch in terms of gunshot wounds (those who are shot just fall to the ground without any palpable injury), but it nevertheless remains an incredibly entertaining sequence...the half an hour just flies by.

While it can be perceived as fairly tame, The Dirty Dozen was edgy for its era and hit a nerve with audiences upon release in 1967. The film isn't weighed down by messages or moral lessons, but it was one of the first motion pictures in history to display the darker side of war - that the best soldiers are often societal outcasts who murder and rape. War is hell, it ain't civilised, and it brings out the savage in everyone.

Aldrich's film provides a cynical view of the army, of authority and of the mission the dozen are asked to execute (after all, why couldn't they just bomb the chateau?). The fact that the mission seems suicidal and unnecessary is deliberate, as Aldrich's primary target was military idiocy. Throughout the course of the film he even takes swipes at the death penalty and race relations. The Dirty Dozen also became the first major mainstream movie to acknowledge that atrocities took place on both sides during World War II. The film's protagonists kill plenty of Germans (some of whom are innocent civilians) in cold blood. Arriving on screens in the middle of the increasingly ostracised Vietnam War, The Dirty Dozen broke a barrier, blurring the line between the "good guys" and the "bad guys".

One of the most distinguished aspects of this ensemble action flick is the cast. Lee Marvin and Charles Bronson are major badasses, and their characters are representative of their own personalities. John Wayne was apparently considered for the part of Major Reisman but he declined in order to make The Green Berets, and Lee Marvin stepped into the role instead. Marvin is excellent; portraying Reisman as an unflinchingly authoritarian. Other standouts in the cast include John Cassavetes, who earned an Oscar nomination for Best Supporting Actor for his work as the most outspoken and toughest of Reisman's convicts.
As for the rest of the cast, there's Ernest Borgnine, Jim Brown, Richard Jaeckel, George Kennedy, Trini López, Ralph Meeker, Robert Ryan, Telly Savalas, Donald Sutherland, Clint Walker, Robert Webber, Tom Busby, Ben Carruthers, Colin Maitland, Stuart Cooper and Al Mancini among others - every one of whom hit their marks.

The Dirty Dozen even influenced numerous films, ranging from made-for-television sequels to movies which employ a similar premise and modify it (Quentin Tarantino's Inglourious Basterds, Sylvester Stallone's The Expendables, and so on).

Sure, The Dirty Dozen is flawed and it's more of a macho male's fantasy than a realistic war film, but it remains an eminently watchable 145-minute cinematic experience. This is just a good old-fashioned manly movie. Not to be missed.

"You don't have to be Dillinger for this one."

Under the direction of Sam Peckinpah (who's also responsible for the amazing Western The Wild Bunch), The Getaway is both an excellent anti-hero action movie and a solid character study. This 1972 film is often considered one of Peckinpah's most commercial projects, but it nevertheless bears the director's distinctive stamp: a terrific opening sequence, proficient editing, and restrained bursts of violence. While it ranks a few notches below Peckinpah's more acclaimed efforts, The Getaway delivers enough action set-pieces, flakey characters and cinematic style to keep viewers thoroughly riveted.

The plot is straightforward: professional thief Doc McCoy (McQueen) and his wife Carol (MacGraw) are fugitives on the run after pulling off a bank robbery sanctioned by corrupt prison officials. However the couple's trip to impunity in Mexico is marred not only by skirmishes with the police department, but also run-ins with the mob as well as emotional tension between the lovers.

Sam Peckinpah is the director who made action cool. When he arrived on the scene in the middle of the 1960s, audiences were stunned - never before had action sequences been executed with such tenacity, violence and gritty realism. Peckinpah was not a show-boater either, and the movies that constitute his legacy remain daring and fresh to this day. Even if you've never seen a Peckinpah movie before, you've more than likely seen his influence present in virtually every action flick released since the director made his mark on Hollywood.

At its most basic level, The Getaway is vehemently an action movie. Despite this, as with all of Peckinpah's best movies, characterisation and story shares equal time with the action. But rest assured that even with plenty of dialogue, the film delivers a bunch of brutal shootouts (the climax is a humdinger) and destructive car chases, not to mention numerous suspenseful set-pieces (most notably the bank robbery and a pursuit on a train of Hitchcockian proportions). None of the characters inhabiting the frame are honourable or endearing (symbolised during one sequence in which, to escape detention, Doc and Carol hide in a garbage receptacle and are consequently dumped in a vast waste area), though strangely enough a viewer can grow to like the pair of protagonists (in a Bonnie and Clyde sense).

The air of realism established in The Getaway is amazing - Peckinpah shot the film more or less in sequence and on authentic Texan locations; the characters and their motivations resonate with ordinary people; and the action is spectacular yet never beyond the realms of reality. From the very first haunting shots that encapsulate the depressive monotony of incarceration, a viewer is thrown head-first into a world far removed from Hollywood fantasy. The heroes in this world are morally questionable, and the marriages in this world aren't anything like fairytales. Quincy Jones' easygoing, jazz-inflected score further contributes to the film's flavour, making The Getaway a standout treat. There are a few flaws, though - some of the plot twists are clichéd, and the film is occasionally contrived.

Steve McQueen perfectly fits the bill as a tough ex-con and a man who struggles with showing emotion. McQueen establishes the ideal balance between machismo and vulnerability for his role of Doc McCoy. An audience can sympathise with him (and this is very important, due to the fact he's a criminal) because he's an anti-hero with flaws, and it's clear that despite being a villain he can't bring himself to kill a man in cold blood. It's simply a tour de force of a performance.
Al Lettieri is excellent; presenting a terrific study in evil as the ruthless villain who refuses to die. Unfortunately, Ali MacGraw is a waste of time - she has no genuine acting ability and doesn't have good chemistry with McQueen (which is surprising since the two stars eventually got married). Rounding out the cast is Sally Struthers who's fantastic as the tramp obsessed with Lettieri's character, and Ben Johnson who's deliciously evil as Jack Beynon (the corrupt official who sets the main bank robbery in motion).

Compared to contemporary action flicks, The Getaway does lack explosive action, but it makes up for this with realistic portrayals of people who are struggling to overcome realistic obstacles. Viewers weaned on frantically-paced action flicks may find The Getaway incredibly slow, but the more relaxed pacing works to the movie's benefit if you have the required attention span.

"You should've chosen my sister. You're already dead."

District B13 is unadulterated action porn. It's a series of kinetic action sequences tied together by an incidental plot and a forgettable script. Directed by Pierre Morel and produced by French super-producer Luc Besson, this is an adrenaline-pumping blast from start to finish that's loaded with style, wit and jaw-dropping acts of physical prowess - and although it's light on plot, it never slows down to let viewers notice. For those unaware, Luc Besson has produced an array of satisfying action films, ranging from the Transporter series to Jet Li vehicles (Kiss of the Dragon and Unleashed, for instance). If you're familiar with the aforementioned movies, you should know precisely what to expect from District B13 (originally titled Banlieue 13). For genre fans seeking solid entertainment, Besson has served up another spry, sleek winner.

The future of Paris envisioned in District B13 sees the worst districts surrounded by isolation walls, effectively cutting off all inhabitants of these areas from the rest of society and keeping the crime rates under control. The denizens of these slums are forced to live without education, proper utilities and police protection. The main story takes place in the 13th district during 2010, and a stolen neutron bomb is in the possession of the district's most powerful drug lord: Taha (Naceri). An undercover police officer named Damien (Raffaelli) is tasked with the assignment of finding the stolen nuclear weapon which will detonate in 24 hours. To be his guide inside the most volatile section of Paris, Damien recruits a man named Leito (Belle) who has his own score to settle with Taha.

District B13 is merely a torrent of action sequences tightly packed into an 85-minute runtime. It doesn't take long for the film to kick into high gear, and once the action begins it only occasionally lets up for brief scenes of exposition. There's not a boring moment at any point during the film as it throttles forward at breakneck pace from one high-flying action scene to the next. Better yet, the death-defying stunts were done primarily without the aid of wires or CGI. And unlike their Hollywood counterparts, French filmmakers know how to shoot and edit these sequences. They don't rely on close-ups or shaky cam, nor are these scenes over-edited to the point of indecipherability.

For the film's opening sequence, David Belle employs his own philosophy of Parkour - i.e. the art of navigating urban spaces quickly and gracefully by overcoming physical obstacles in the quickest and most direct manner possible. The man races across rooftops, slides down railings and crashes through a miniscule window above a door - just to name a few of the eye-popping stunts - as he evades a group of gun-wielding enemies (and it was mainly done for real). But his co-star Cyril Raffaelli is not to be outdone - the former circus acrobat and martial arts champion has plenty of his own moments to shine. Raffaelli's stunts are all about the fighting as he punches and kicks; disarming enemies in the most efficient way possible. Belle and Raffaelli (both of whom had a hand in creating the stunts and action scenes) make an excellent duo. It's during the film's second half that these two stars team up to crack some skulls, and that's when District B13 truly kicks into overdrive.

But the slender screenplay (written by Besson with colleague Bibi Naceri, who also plays Taha) is plagued with contrivances barely acceptable for an action film like this (the reception for Damien's mobile phone when he needs to diffuse the bomb, for instance). The characters are pretty one-dimensional as well.

For those concerned with having to constantly read subtitles (the film is in French), have no fear - District B13 is far from dialogue-driven, and it's simple to follow. Do yourself a favour and check out this incredibly visceral action film in which the on-screen action is dripping with the blood and sweat of real stunt work. The plot can be forgiven as the action is energetic, the athleticism is astonishing and the soundtrack is pulsating. A terrific way to spend 85 minutes!

"Pain don't hurt."

Road House is the very definition of a guilty pleasure - it's packed with rousing action, a ludicrous story, a great soundtrack, gratuitous nudity, huge bare breasts, monster trucks, sex in strange places, roundhouse kicks and a great lead performance from Patrick Swayze in his prime. There isn't much weight to Road House, nor does it have any lofty ambitions, but it's a very enjoyable, breezy romp, and a perfect late night "guy flick".

Inimitable '80s leading man Patrick Swayze stars as a legendary über-bouncer (or "cooler") named Dalton who has a philosophy degree and a black belt to boot. Dalton is recruited by club owner Frank Tilghman (Tighe) to clean up a rowdy bar. He accepts the job offer, thinking he'll be able to just swoop in for some easy money. But when the town kingpin Brad Wesley (Gazzara) takes an interest in seeing Dalton fail, he faces an adversary far tougher than any bar souse. Dalton initially tries to avoid conflicts, always maintaining his business philosophy of "be nice", but when Wesley threatens those closest to him, the reluctant pugilist realises he'll have to take action (and perhaps even be mean) in order to preserve the peace.

It isn't long before Road House degenerates into a nonstop string of fistfights. There's also a wispy subplot involving a flat romantic interest for Dalton (played by Kelly Lynch) who turns up with thick glasses and her hair in a bun. The plotline is incidental and silly, and it's virtually impossible to make good sense out of it, but this film knows how to entertain. Thus one should just sit back and enjoy the primal savagery of good vs. evil carnage. With emphasis on action, cheesy one-liners and histrionic characterisations, Road House is a celebration of '80s Hollywood excess and the art of visceral entertainment for entertainment's sake.

Road House is such a manly movie that the film stock practically has whiskers growing out of it. The whole thing is so rowdy that the director is a man named...Rowdy! Happily, director Rowdy Herrington knows how to shoot a brutal fight scene. He eschews anything resembling subtlety in favour of larger-than-life action set-pieces and characters that are either ridiculously ethical or flat-out evil. A massive kudos is also due to the screenwriters (David Lee Henry and Hilary Henkin) as well as director Herrington for inserting not one but two huge explosions into a movie about bar fights.

Patrick Swayze was just coming off the high of Dirty Dancing when he starred in this actioner. Swayze carries the film perfectly, emanating loads of charisma, machismo and intelligence. He truly had the chops to be a big '80s action star, and should've further exploited this potential. His character of Dalton is a masterfully-rendered protagonist, cut from the same cloth of anti-heroes like Clint Eastwood's laconic Man With No Name, but polished with the sheen of an erstwhile '80s superstar.
Swayze is also surrounded by a terrific supporting cast. Ben Gazzara as Brad Wesley hits all the right notes - he's an incredibly nasty, over-the-top villain. It's easy to hate Gazzara's scumbag of a character. The always capable Sam Elliot is perfect as Dalton's best friend and mentor Wade Garrett. Elliot (one of the industry's best character actors) is given the opportunity to be a complete badass, and capitalises on this opportunity at every turn. Meanwhile there's Kelly Lynch who's given a thankless "guy flick" role - in no way is she supposed to be complex or nuanced...she just needs to look good naked, which she does. The rest of the cast all seem very comfortable with their respective roles.

A tremendously enjoyable slice of romanticised fisticuffs, Road House is just a Western without the Stetsons and six guns. The film attempts little else than to provide its mostly male target audience with a thrill a minute. There is no pretence in Road House - it's just a bad film that you love to watch repeatedly in spite of your better judgement. What separates this balls-to-the-wall '80s actioner from more modern action duds (xXx, The Marine, The Fast and the Furious, and so on) is simply respect for the genre. A true action movie should be excessively violent if the subject warrants it...not neutered in order to attract a pre-teen audience for greater box office earnings. This is a prime example of how much fun an action film can be when filmmakers aren't trying to cater to the widest demographic possible. It's the type of action film best enjoyed with beer, pizza and friends.

"I used to fuck guys like you in prison."

"Ol' Jack always says... what the hell?"

An outlandish, uncategorisable blend of John Ford (and, by extension, John Wayne) and cornball Chinese mysticism, John Carpenter's Big Trouble in Little China is a hokey martial arts adventure flick with limitless appeal. The characters are both endearing and witty, with the actors hamming it up to extremes. Meanwhile Carpenter provides directorial genius, suspenseful set-ups, edge-of-your-seat action and a signature musical score. Big Trouble in Little China is simply a delightfully absurd action movie that never takes itself too seriously, although it isn't for all tastes.

In his fourth collaboration with director Carpenter (after Elvis, Escape From New York and The Thing), Kurt Russell plays an imitable, good-natured truck driver named Jack Burton. During one of his trips to San Francisco, Jack's truck is hijacked and he's unwittingly swept up in a universe-bounding plot to kidnap the fiancée of his friend Wang (Dun). The whole situation concerns warring gangs that dwell in the Chinatown underground, and an ancient supernatural spirit named Lo Pan (Hong). But Jack couldn't care less about any of this...he just wants his truck back.

This is not your ordinary kung fu flick, to say the least. The slender plot is virtually indecipherable; merely providing a reason to showcase lots of things happening in colorful settings for no reason other than to have lots of things happening in colorful settings.

Alas, character development is slim and an audience isn't given much of a chance to become acquainted with the characters before they're sent into action. However the dialogue never fails to sparkle and the endearing characters will win you over anyway. Big Trouble in Little China mainly works so well due to Carpenter's stylised direction and the breathless pacing. We're taken from one chase to another; Carpenter continually removing his characters from the frying pan and throwing them into the fire. This ever-escalating chain of events always keeps things moving forward, and never allows the movie to bog down (even the few expository scenes necessary to fully outline Lo Pan's dastardly scheme are brilliantly terse). Carpenter's willingness to let ridiculous, unexplained things fly in out of left field is another masterstroke. The character of Margo (Burton) at one stage likens this peculiar adventure to Alice in Wonderland.

The subterranean lairs which accommodate most of the action are great - hokey enough to emphasise the film's camp appeal, but not so hokey that they look like sets. Big Trouble in Little China features plenty of special effects too - and the somewhat dated effects add to the enchanting flavour. Carpenter always respects his influences. He maintains the B-Grade spirit of Hong Kong cinema while also fusing it with his own style and satirising it with a unique campness. From the score's synthesis of Eastern music and Carpenter's trademark synth to the arcade-style battle between two characters and the villain being defeated with a simple bowie knife to the head instead of a grand duel, Carpenter nails the tongue-in-cheek kung fu comedy genre. One definitely needs to be in the right mindset for this movie.

Kurt Russell as Jack Burton is priceless - he's a witty, tough-talking everyman hero in the mould of John Wayne. Unlike John Wayne, however, Jack is not immune from screwing up. Jack has a knack for getting into extreme situations, he believes he has everything figured out, he constantly messes up, and he makes a lot of grand pronouncements and wisecracks (he even talks about himself in the third person a lot). Russell's Jack Burton will definitely win you over with his cheesy bravado. Interestingly, he ain't the real driver of the plot - he's Wan's sidekick and he's just there to find his truck. Jack is, however, the true star of the show

Just like John Carpenter's The Thing, Big Trouble in Little China performed poorly at the box office upon its initial release but has grown vindicated in the years to follow; earning a legion of fans who understand what Carpenter was trying to do. Ancient Chinese mysticism and kung fu is expertly blended with good old-fashioned American gunplay to produce this high-energy mélange of action sequences. You know what ol' Jack Burton would say at a time like this? Jack Burton would say "see this movie!"

When the system of justice doesn't work...Bronson does!

The Evil That Men Do is just a Charles Bronson actioner made strictly for the star's unfinicky fan-base. As to be expected from such a label, this film is a violent action-fest with minimal supporting story. And the fact that this particular Bronson vehicle nominally concerns itself with the violation of human rights merely makes the violence juicier. Bronson featured in some of the seminal action movies of the 1960s (The Dirty Dozen and The Great Escape, to name a few), but by the late '70s and early '80s his résumé became blotted with sloppy actioners that basically reworked his Death Wish persona over and over again. Cheap and slapdash, The Evil That Men Do can only muster meagre thrills, with Bronson on autopilot and J. Lee Thompson's direction strictly by the numbers. It's enjoyably violent, but there's precious little else of interest and it's nothing you haven't seen before.

Bronson plays hardboiled former hitman Holland who's enjoying retirement in the Cayman Islands. However, he ends his self-imposed retirement when he learns that an old friend of his has died at the hand of notorious sadist Clement Molloch (Maher). Molloch is known as The Docter, and he's renowned for utilising his skills to torture rather than heal. Accompanied by the family of his deceased friend and a barrage of Bronson-esque weapons, Holland sets out to execute his one final mark.

While The Evil That Men Do has a terrific concept and tackles some fascinating issues, the film is just an excuse for Bronson to violently wipe out foreign-based scum - it's an exploitative actioner which hangs its coat on genuine issues. There are a number of ways the filmmakers could've made this story more interesting. For instance, the film could've highlighted the similarities between Holland and Molloch (Holland is, after all, a contract killer who executes targets for money, much like Molloch who's paid by governments to conceive torture techniques). Holland's revenge machinations could've also been as elaborate as possible. Alas, the film never exploits this potential as it's instead determined to be stripped-down and narratively simplistic.

Obnoxiously poor writing is another critical fault of The Evil That Men Do. Holland initially refuses the assignment to kill Molloch, but inexplicably changes his mind and works for no charge. The character of Rhiana (Saldana) calls on Holland to take action and kill Molloch, but chastises him as a cold-blooded killer when he begins to eliminate his targets. Meanwhile the script's utter stupidity is downright insulting. For example Rhiana's daughter is brought into such a dangerous situation for no real purpose other than to be taken hostage. And (apart from cheap theatrics), there was absolutely no reason for Holland to hang Molloch's chauffeur off a window ledge (why not handle it more discretely and avoid attention?). There's also the matter of the dialogue. Lines such as "He was wearing a bulletproof vest" are idiotic and contrived. More intelligent filmmakers would've found a way to show this rather than resorting to inane remarks like this.

Considering it's fervently a no-holds-barred action film, The Evil That Men Do is pretty deficient in the action department. It's as if the filmmakers attempted to transcend the routine action movie clichés by focusing more on story and character development. But the problem is that neither of these elements truly work. The story suffers from inconsistencies (as previously outlined), and even the simplest opportunities to inject life into these characters are bypassed. The characters instead remain cardboard creations we never get to know or understand. Holland never talks about his inner feelings, nor does he explain what motivated him to become a killer for hire. Rhiana is openly disgusted by Holland time and time again, but later begins feeling affection towards him mysteriously.

J. Lee Thompson collaborated with Bronson for numerous films (most notably Death Wish 4), and his direction here is standard in every sense of the word. The awful music and tawdry production values further undermine his efforts (a very obvious dummy is used in one sequence, for example). Bronson manages to look cool while on the prowl, but his line delivery is flat and he's just playing another thinly-veiled version of himself. Furthermore, there's nothing intense or intimidating about Holland. Joseph Maher as Molloch is forgettable and not sinister enough, while Theresa Saldana is pretty terrible in the thankless role of Rhiana.

Like many Bronson vehicles of the 1980s, The Evil That Men Do is just a turkey shoot with car chases and shootouts executed in a perfunctory manner. At least we're left with a handful of fun, campy moments, including a sequence during which Bronson lures one villain into a trap by suggesting a threesome, and a scene where Bronson hides under a bed while Molloch's sister has sex with her lesbian lover. If you're a Bronson fan who craves more movies of the Death Wish ilk, you'll probably be entertained by this film. If you dislike Bronson, this flick won't change your mind.

"The woods are lovely, dark, and deep, but I have promises to keep. And miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep. Remember. Miles to go before I sleep."

Telefon is an entertaining Charles Bronson vehicle - nothing more, nothing less. It lacks brains, it's a tad slapdash and it's an extremely predictable affair, but it's quotable and thoroughly enjoyable as well. With renowned action director Don Siegel at the helm (best known for the first Dirty Harry), Telefon is packed with nail-biting suspense and exciting eruptions of action, all the while threading together an engaging plotline (though it's nothing too deep). With the focus primarily on narrative velocity rather than compelling drama, this is a very serviceable spy thriller supported by an intriguing premise.

The story involves a communist zealot known as Dalchimsky (Pleasance) who plots to sabotage détente by activating deep-cover agents in the United States. Said agents were planted by the Soviet Union at the height of the Cold War but were never utilised, and are primed to execute suicidal missions to blow up key military sites on telephonic phone cue. Military intelligence officer Major Grigori Borzov (Bronson) is recruited by the Soviets to eliminate Dalchimsky before his actions trigger World War III. Oh, and Grigori is accompanied by an American agent named Barbara (Remick).
With the continuing political conflict and military tension between America and Russia in the late '70s and throughout the 1980s, it's kinda heart-warming to witness a movie released in 1977 which features a Russian agent and an American agent working side-by-side.

At its most basic level, Telefon is pleasant escapism. The script was penned by the screenwriting duo of Sterling Silliphant and Peter Hyams, based on the novel by Walter Wager. Though the story is considered by some to be beyond the realms of reality, the driving force behind the plot (i.e. activating agents using drug-induced hypnosis) isn't as far-fetched as some of the actual schemes concocted by the overzealous CIA and KGB during the Cold War. The script's only weak spots are in the characters and the construction of events. Initially, Grigori and Barbara are hostile towards one another. An audience would expect these two to somehow end up together, and we get that pay-off, but it seems merely perfunctory rather than natural. Granted, it's probably unreasonable to expect a beautifully-written relationship in a film like this. But if said relationship is unmotivated and naff, then there's a big problem.

Here's the major problem with Telefon: it's entirely without a satisfying final act. At about a hundred minutes in length, the film is fairly long considering the '70s action-thriller pedigree. And during these hundred minutes, there's a lot of building up with very little pay-off. Walter Wages' novel contained an excellent climax which could've become an effective action set-piece in this screen adaptation, but alas the film fizzles out with a whimper. The demise of the main villain is underwhelming, and the story is wrapped up irritatingly quickly. In all likelihood, budget constraints prevented a big climax from being lensed. It's disappointing, to say the least.

Director Don Siegel handles the action competently, but this is not among his best efforts (a few terrific set-pieces notwithstanding, there's some pretty dull filmmaking on display here). Lalo Schifrin also provides a fantastic score which suitably amplifies tension during key scenes. As for the acting...not unlike the sleeper agents of the picture, the stoic Charles Bronson gives a strong impression of deep hypnosis throughout. During his career, Bronson rarely acted - he simply inhabited a film with his particular presence, which frequently played off his infamous Death Wish persona. Donald Pleasence fares a lot better as the main villain of the film. He oozes menace, and is especially sinister while uttering a few lines from the particular Robert Frost poem which triggers a sleeper agent. Lee Remick's performance is impassive, and she's an absurd love interest for Bronson. Also in the cast is Tyne Daly who's embarrassing as the overexcitable CIA computer expert (hilariously, the computers she uses literally have a brain of their own) and whose role feels at once redundant and underdone.

Bronson enthusiasts will almost certainly find a lot to enjoy about Telefon - it's a fun spy thriller with Bronson in Russian Death Wish mode. The film was later parodied in The Naked Gun, and Tarantino used the "trigger" phrase ("The woods are lovely, dark and deep...") in his 2007 movie Death Proof.

"Murder is only killing without a license."

The Mechanic can best be described as an investigative character study of a "mechanic" (or hitman, as they're more commonly called). This second creative collaboration of Charles Bronson and director Michael Winner is a tense 1970s action-thriller that excites with tenacious stunt-work and engrosses with a restrained screenplay. It's also a fairly smart motion picture which delves into the sacrifice, methodology and motivation of being a hitman, in addition to exploring the mindset required for the procedural execution of a target and the dangers inherent in the work.

The movie begins with a glorious fifteen-minute sequence that's completely dialogue-free and establishes a cinematic tension that's adhered to throughout. For this opening sequence, the camera observes hitman Arthur Bishop (Bronson) as he strategically carries out the elimination of a mark. Once Bishop's (flamingly successful) mission is complete, the film explores the day-to-day workings of the protagonist. Bishop is a very meticulous contract killer; he approaches each new assignment with detailed precision to ensure the cleanest outcome. Into his guarded, isolated life enters young Steve McKenna (Vincent); the son of his latest target. The mechanic reluctantly accepts McKenna as his protégé, but the mob that Bishop works for is not happy about an outsider being recruited without their consent.

The Mechanic is a steadily paced action-thriller that leisurely develops its characters (mainly through showing, not telling) while offering chest-thumping sequences of confrontation and chase. Director Winner (who later collaborated with Bronson for 1974's Death Wish) was often criticised for his savage staging and vulgar sensibilities. All these decades later, however, these aforementioned elements generate a brilliantly authentic, visceral edge. Winner handles the material with tremendous zeal, staging slick action set-pieces that range from high-speed pursuits to explosive shootouts before the movie eventually culminates in a terrific double-twist ending. In addition to this, the pair of cinematographers (Richard H. Kline and Robert Paynter) pull off outstanding work. The exquisitely-photographed opening sequence is a triumph, and there are several memorable images throughout the film as well. However the movie isn't deep enough to be an effective character study. It delves into the hitman professional adequately, but we remain less enlightened about the man pulling the trigger - Bishop's motivations and desires are too vague. Crucially, there isn't enough action for the movie to be considered a pure actioner. Ultimately the fusion of action and character study is somewhat ham-fisted.

At the centre of the film is Charles Bronson, and he submits one of the best and most nuanced performances of his career. Bronson brings a tough guy physicality and stoic silence to his role, making us believe he can kill targets with ease. Alongside Bronson is Jan Michael Vincent. His delivery may be rather stiff, but he possesses an excellent natural arrogance. One should also keep an eye open for Jill Ireland (Bronson's wife) playing a hooker who gives Bishop an artificial bond which lets him believe he's tenderly loved.

All in all, The Mechanic is a satisfying offering of action and thrills. It's an economic blend of cool characters, great outbursts of action and an intriguing plotline. It falls short of greatness due to the characters being fairly underdeveloped, but it remains entertaining enough. The film was remade in 2010.

"If anyone's going to bring in Albert Johnson, it's going to be me - not some bounty hunter or some flyboy buckin' for promotion."

Loosely based on a true story of a manhunt that took place in Depression-era Canada, Death Hunt denotes the ambitious re-teaming of two of cinema's most manly actors - Charles Bronson and Lee Marvin (they previously appeared together in The Dirty Dozen). Fans of these respective actors as well as action enthusiasts in general will discover plenty to like about this nail-biting action-adventure, which is essentially a Western transplanted into an icy Canadian backdrop with the undertones of a morality play.

The story takes place in the remote snowy wilderness of Yukon Territory (Canada) in 1931. A grizzled loner named Albert Johnson (Bronson) is attacked by a group of hillbillies, and in self-defence Johnson manages to kill one of them. Infuriated, these hillbillies accuse Johnson of murder. Sergeant Edgar Millen (Marvin) of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police suspects that Johnson's actions were out of self-defence, but is compelled to pursue the accused murderer regardless. While Sergeant Millen has his experience and the resources of the RCMP on his side, Johnson has the skills, endurance and experience of mountain living to elude his pursuers. To make things more complicated, the local hillbillies place a sizeable bounty on Johnson's head.

Johnson and Millen are worthy adversaries who clearly possess no animosity towards one another - Millen is carrying out his duties in accordance with his job, and Johnson just wants to stay alive and be left alone. In real-life, it wasn't clear whether Johnson was actually guilty. In this motion picture adaptation, however, he was unmistakably the victim of false charges. Perhaps it'd make for more riveting viewing if the film's standpoint on Johnson was ambiguous instead.

Usually in '80s action films of this ilk, set-ups are shortened in order to dive into the nitty gritty as quickly as possible. Death Hunt is different - the premise is established at a relaxed pace, which allows for a decent amount of character development before things kick into high gear.

Rest assured that once the premise is instituted, the chase that ensues is thrilling and the body count is substantial. As the film progresses, Johnson constantly manages to outmanoeuvre Millen's men as they attempt to catch him, albeit just barely in some instances. He also makes mincemeat out of the hicks who are hunting him (who are interested in collecting the bounty on the man's head). Ironically, Johnson's pursuers perceive their hunt for him as the titular "death hunt", but at the end of the day it is their own deaths that make it a death hunt.

As a retelling of the story of the real Albert Johnson, Death Hunt fails since the screenwriters took a number of liberties with the facts in order to create a more romanticised tale. But as a gritty '80s action-adventure, Death Hunt works - it's an excellent slice of manly entertainment. The photography of the forbidding icy landscape is breathtaking and atmospheric. And with Peter Hunt at the helm (a veteran of the early James Bond movies as both an editor and a director), there are a bunch of well-handled action sequences to behold, although the film does suffer from being choppy and disjointed from time to time.

On some levels Death Hunt does falter. It feels a tad underdone, and needed more depth since a lot of the characters are hollow stereotypes. A bunch of typical '80s conventions are occasionally used as well. For instance during a few of the shootouts Johnson stands still and is out in the open, but his opponents never manage to hit him (whereas Johnson manages to fire a number of well-aimed shots). Taking these credibility issues further, Millen's men use a cluster of dynamite to blow up Johnson's cabin. An enormous explosion is the result, but Johnson (who is inside his cabin at the time) emerges totally unscathed.

At its core, Death Hunt is an acting duel between Charles Bronson and Lee Marvin (although they only engage in one dialogue scene together). Both of these actors were clearly aging by the early '80s, but they bring incredible conviction to their respective roles. Bronson employs his distinctive quiet fortitude while Marvin offers a rugged disposition. This is a fine vehicle for these two badass leads.
Angie Dickinson briefly appears as the love interest for Marvin's Sergeant Millen. The brief scenes between these two performers begin to effectively flesh out the character of Millen, showing a sad adherence to duty that he's unable to drop. Death Hunt marked the final cinematic pairing of Dickinson and Marvin (the two other films being The Killers and Point Blank).

With a manly cast (boasting such names as Bronson, Marvin, Carl Weathers and Ed Lauter), an engaging narrative and picturesque locations, Death Hunt is an essential '80s actioner. A few faults aside, this tense flick is solid entertainment from start to finish.

"We've been hunting a man who knows how to live off the land and use it to reign."

"What if the cops can't handle this, Jack?"

1974's Death Wish (which initially went by the apt working title of The Sidewalk Vigilante) was released at the pinnacle of Hollywood's obsession with anti-hero movies. This screen adaptation of Brian Garfield's 1972 novel is functionally simplistic, lowering itself to the cerebral level required for straight-up exploitation (though it contains a slight trace of a social commentary). The formerly timely message of this gritty actioner, along with the solid production values and Herbie Hancock's remarkable score, render it able to hold up rather confidently all these decades later. Upon release in 1974 the film was a commercial hit - it earned about $22 million at the box office (from a mere $3 million budget).

Set in New York City, Death Wish introduces Charles Bronson's signature character: a respected architect named Paul Kersey. One afternoon Paul's idyllic life is shattered when a group of street thugs (among which is a young Jeff Goldblum, in his film debut) break into his apartment, leaving his wife dead and his daughter in a catatonic state. The family is shaken to its very core after this attack. Once Paul steps onto a shooting range during a business trip intended to keep his mind off things, his vengeful instincts are awoken. The police are unable to find the hooligans that attacked his family, so Paul takes to vigilantism. He begins prowling the mean streets of New York City at night, killing all the street criminals he encounters.

Charles Bronson certainly isn't noted for his acting skills (or lack thereof), and Death Wish has no real emotional punch as a result. While the man is fairly watchable, he's so emotionless and stale, and eventually we're left wondering what really makes Paul tick. Also, the attack on Paul's wife and daughter would've been more effective if a viewer had been given the chance to know them intimately as characters. Alas, they're merely thinly-sketched narrative tools used to send Paul into vigilante mode. Other parts of the movie, however, are thoroughly effective. Director Winner stages each of Paul's confrontations like a showdown between jaded civility and total depravity. The final half of the flick mostly consists of Paul shooting criminals, but each confrontation is staged with visceral effectiveness that'll get your blood pumping (even if the silliness of the whole affair is sometimes hard to overlook).

In adapting Garfield's novel for the screen, screenwriter Wendell Mayes (who also scripted The Poseidon Adventure) altered the narrative's ultimate trajectory. Moreover, vigilantism is seen in a negative light in the Death Wish novel whereas the film unmistakably romanticises Paul's choice to take the law into his own hands. The fact that those Paul kills are portrayed as soulless criminals only adds to the attractiveness of his vendetta. This allure is further compounded by the fact that the police develop a hesitative admiration for the media-dubbed "Vigilante", and the mayor notices that Paul's activities cause the mugging rate to decrease by about 50%.

At its most basic level, Death Wish is a simple-minded vigilante fantasy and no room is left for any intellectual defence of its ideological standpoint. However the film's stance is more or less identical to that which is taken by most Westerns. Charles Bronson dispensing justice on the streets of New York is hardly unlike John Wayne or Clint Eastwood carrying out the same task in frontier outposts of the Old West. Most Western heroes are sheriffs, but they rarely operate totally within the realm of proscribed law. One could contend that times have changed, but this doesn't deflate the mythological undercurrents of "righteous justice" that transcend the slow bureaucratic processes and give both Westerns and vigilante movies their undeniable kick. The central message of all these narratives is that desperate times call for desperate measures, and sometimes a lone outsider is the only one who can get the job done. The Western likeness of Death Wish is further reinforced when Paul at one stage witnesses a mock gunfight at a reconstructed Western frontier town that's often used as a movie set (in Tucson, Arizona).

Ideology aside, Death Wish is nothing but a specific product of its time. The late '60s was a period in which street crime reached near epidemic proportions, and Hollywood retorted with reactionary films like Death Wish, Dirty Harry, and The French Connection. Characters such as Paul Kersey fill an entrenched fantasy that most people are wise enough not to try to fulfil themselves. Paul and similar characters are the epitome of cathartic excess in cinema; a means by which viewers could fleetingly revel in the delight of seeing a badass punish the wicked with righteous intensity. Director Michael Winner's tale of an epic skewing of the moral compass laid the groundwork for the dozens of films following it that had revenge as a crucial plot point. Death Wish is an excellent capsule of 1970s filmmaking - it's thrilling and thought-provoking, and it sends us off with a wink at the end.

Followed by four sequels, beginning with Death Wish II in 1982.

"You believe in Jesus? Well, you're gonna meet him."

Death Wish II arrived eight years after 1974's Death Wish (a smash-hit which apparently reduced the crime rate in New York City during its theatrical run!), and this sequel was clearly green-lit for the sole purpose of cashing in on the success of its predecessor. This is fundamentally a shameless rehash of the original Death Wish that's packed with gratuitous violence and rape. Where the first film presented Charles Bronson's character of Paul Kersey as a victim of violence pushed to breaking point, this follow-up finds Paul in John Rambo territory - he has become an apathetic iconoclast bent on revenge. The underlying moral debate of the first film has vanished, and has been replaced with unhealthy blood-lust. The product is a serviceable actioner that most audiences will find unbearably repugnant.

This follow-up is a complete break from the Brian Garfield novel series on which the original film is based. Garfield's second novel (entitled Death Sentence) was unused in the creation of this sequel, but was eventually adapted for the screen in 2007 (directed by Saw creator James Wan).

In what is essentially Death Wish revisited, we find Paul Kersey (Bronson) who's turned loose on the creeps of Los Angeles. The health of his catatonic daughter Carol (Sherwood) is improving, but tranquillity in the family was not destined to be long-lived. Five street punks (one of which is a young Laurence Fishburne) break into Paul's home and assault everyone in sight, resulting in the death of both his daughter and housekeeper. Paul, shaken up and deeply pissed off about the event, plots revenge and begins to methodically hunt down each of the five thugs.

Where Death Wish persuaded a viewer to support the protagonist's crusade, this support is taken for granted here. Unlike its predecessor, Death Wish II spends no time watching Paul contemplate his actions before turning to vigilantism - he simply goes to work, rendering himself a stoic killing machine. The punks are unimaginative and soulless caricatures, conceived for the purpose of showing how awful the underbelly of society truly is. The portrayal of street crime is so one-dimensional it practically borders on parody. There are literally thugs on every street block, and they're all unmistakable due to how they dress. While admittedly entertaining, Death Wish II is desperately underwritten and underplotted, alternating between violent action, gratuitous rape scenes and banal dialogue passages.

At the tip of the iceberg, the story of Death Wish II has little credibility - the chances are slim to none that Paul Kersey would suffer two such horrendous experiences during the course of a few years. Credibility is further disregarded during the first ten minutes when a visibly aged Charles Bronson is portrayed as an adept hand-to-hand combat fighter even while battling more agile opponents. One sequence even shows Paul winning a fight with a thug who easily fought off a dozen cops just a few scenes earlier. It's just ridiculous. Death Wish II has no intention of pursuing the interesting themes of its forerunner. Michael Winner dedicates this film to an audience hungry for exploitation.

Director Winner does stage a number of exciting shootouts, however, though the film as a whole sorely lacks both artistry and style. The pace for this tight 90-minute flick is incredibly brisk, but that comes at the expense of interesting characterisations. On top of all this, former Led Zeppelin guitarist Jimmy Page (who was Winner's neighbour in the '80s) provides an adequate score.

All things considered, Death Wish II is enjoyable but thoroughly disappointing, and it was made purely for box office returns. It's routine, lazy and silly. A bunch of entertaining action sequences provides the only reason to watch this sequel. Those who seek more weight and/or gravitas with their action films, however, should avoid this empty-headed actioner at all costs.

Followed by Death Wish 3.

"A .475 Wildey magnum is a shorter version of the African big game cartridge, it makes a real mess."

By 1985, the movie-going public had been subjected to a new breed of action filmmaking: the "one man army" genre. Character development and logic are of no concern to such actioners since their prime focus is instead on a lone hero annihilating as many bad guys as possible (think Rambo: First Blood Part II and Commando). Death Wish 3 (the second sequel to 1974's Death Wish) employs this particular template. It discards the gritty drama and interesting themes of the original movie (which spoke about the urban condition of its time) in favour of simple, orgasmically satisfying violence. Death Wish 3 is a bona fide guilty pleasure - it isn't a particularly good movie and it recycles every '80s action movie cliché in existence, but it's a highly entertaining product of its time.

As expected, the plot of Death Wish 3 is as thin as they come. Paul Kersey (Bronson) departs from Los Angeles and travels back to New York City to visit a friend. His buddy (who resides in a bad neighbourhood) is killed by local gang members, and Paul is mistakenly arrested for the crime. The local police captain (Lauter) recognises Kersey from his earlier vigilante adventures, and sets him free under the condition that he tidies up the streets. Living in his late friend's apartment and amassing an arsenal of weapons, Paul rages war on the local gang, much to the happiness of the law-abiding citizens of the neighbourhood. The movie of course eventually builds to a crescendo in which the neighbourhood is reduced to a massive war zone.

Death Wish 3 is just a 90-minute turkey shoot - a madhouse of rape, torture, violence, brutality, explosions, and savagery. Attempts to justify the violence and mass-murder are perfunctory for this instalment. The dialogue is frequently awkward and the proceedings are generally silly. The street creeps are cardboard caricatures that in no way resemble genuine criminals of 1985, not to mention the main gang is portrayed as more of a cult - they dress in strange break dance fashion and wear identifying marks on their foreheads.

Throughout most of the movie Paul merely lures out his victims with the promise of an easy steal before hosing them down with hot lead. At no point does he ever seem in genuine peril. On top of everything, there's a romance subplot that's cumbersome and random. To set up an incredibly violent climax, Paul has to endure some form of emotional turmoil, and that's where this romantic subplot comes into play (though after his girl is killed, he doesn't give her a second glance before he returns to whatever he was doing). When all's said and done, Death Wish 3 exists to showcase gratuitous violence...and it delivers in spades. It's impossible to keep up with the amount of people who are shot, blown up, stabbed, beaten, pushed off rooftops, or just plain maimed during the climax. The whole thing is so violent that it was initially hit with an 'X' rating by the MPAA, though this was successfully appealed. Death Wish II was also a repellent, exploitative actioner, but this third movie surpasses its predecessor because it has more style and a greater entertainment value.

Charles Bronson remains shockingly one-note for all of his screen-time. Even when people close to him are killed, he doesn't seem too fazed. His dialogue is restricted, and his most complicated deliveries come in the form of providing rundowns of the weapons he receives in the mail. Just like the second Death Wish picture, credibility is a key issue - despite looking so old, Bronson's Paul Kersey is able to run down opponents on foot and is a perfect marksman while the young hooligans can't shoot for shit (even when Paul is in the open).

Kersey's .475 Wildey Magnum is probably as much the star of the movie as Bronson. Hilariously (and perhaps alarmingly), the creator of this handgun (Wildey Moore) admitted in an interview that there is a spike in sales of the .475 Magnum every time Death Wish 3 appears on television.

Bronson tore Death Wish 3 to pieces in later interviews and ended his professional partnership with Winner after the film was released. Bronson was reportedly dissatisfied with the script since production commenced, and at the time he was far more concerned about the health of his wife (Jill Ireland) who was diagnosed with cancer. In any case, Bronson still starred in the film. His performance may not contain much heart, but his rugged demeanour is nonetheless compelling. Death Wish 3 (Roman numerals weren't used in the title like the second film because most Americans are unable to decipher them) fails as a serious crime/drama, but it works marvellously as an entertaining, balls-to-the-wall '80s action film.

Followed by Death Wish 4: The Crackdown.

"I'm Death!"

It's risky business getting close to architect-come-vigilante Paul Kersey (Bronson), whose family and friends all seem to have a drastically reduced life expectancy. Death Wish 4: The Crackdown is the third sequel to 1974's Death Wish, and it signals a substantial decline in quality for the series. This isn't quite the same kettle of fish as its predecessors - the concept is tired, Paul has lost his inimitable zing, and a new director is behind the camera. In the end, Death Wish 4 is merely a careless, low-budget money-grab.

Now that Paul Kersey's entire family has been wiped out (with the exception of his stepson who curiously disappeared after the first film), additional loved ones need to be introduced in order to bring out Paul's vigilante instincts - for this outing, he's dating a woman and she has alive family members.

In Death Wish 4, Paul has returned to Los Angeles and is dating attractive reporter Karen Sheldon (Lenz) who has a teenage daughter named Erica (Barron). They all live together happily, but this wouldn't be another Death Wish sequel unless this solace is shattered. One night Erica dies of a drug overdose, and in retaliation Paul begins to punish the city's major drug dealers. But even an unstoppable vigilante like Paul Kersey needs some support, and here it comes from publisher Nathan White (Ryan) who's determined to avenge the drug-related death of his own daughter. White hires Kersey to kill the key players within two rival drug dealing organisations and thus instigate a war between them. Of course, the police get involved with some reluctance...but are utterly useless in the grand scheme of things.

The original Death Wish effectively spoke about the urban crime epidemic of the 1970s, but the sequels substituted this societal commentary with bloodletting and exploitative action. Death Wish 4: The Crackdown continues this tradition with thinner plotting and thicker action. It's filled with laughable contrivances, unclear motivations, one-dimensional characterisations and an almost indecipherable plot. Unlike the preceding sequels, Paul Kersey now targets drug dealers instead of street punks. The film tries to deliver a timely message about the dangers of drug use, but it lacks the gritty realism required to send home a clear message, and it's clearly interested in just one thing: exploiting violence.

Charles Bronson was apparently displeased with Death Wish 3, and terminated his creative partnership with director Michael Winner as a result. J. Lee Thompson instead parachuted into the director's chair (his prior films include Cape Fear and Guns of the Navarone, and such Bronson films as The Evil That Men Do). The series' distributor (Cannon Films) was on the verge of bankruptcy by the time Death Wish 4 came down the pipeline, and the company were accordingly cutting back on budgets. Thompson's work is visibly marred by budgetary restraints - camera movements and set-ups are basic, and there are a bunch of technical goofs (one explosion looks incredibly fake and was obviously superimposed). The action sequences do remain enjoyable, but one has to overlook a number of contrivances while watching them (people with clear shots at Paul always delay their firing, giving the protagonist a chance to notice their position).

The aging Charles Bronson was no spring chicken when Death Wish 4 entered production, and he sleepwalks throughout the film as if someone was always dangling his paycheck just out of camera range. It's gotten to the point where the vigilante just isn't motivated anymore. At least Bronson does deliver some great tough guy dialogue, mind you. As with prior instalments, credibility is frequently an issue - how can an aging Paul continue to fight and win against more spry opponents? Oh well, it's an action film of the '80s...who cares about logic?

As long as you disable your brain before viewing and temper your expectations, Death Wish 4: The Crackdown is a serviceable entry to the stale Death Wish series. In the end it's just too predictable, too naff and too by-the-numbers.

Followed by Death Wish V: The Face of Death.

"No judge, no jury, no appeals, no deals."

With 1994's Death Wish V: The Face of Death, architect/vigilante Paul Kersey (Bronson) further confirms that he is the single most unlucky man on the planet. This fifth and final instalment in the long-running Death Wish film series arrived on the twentieth anniversary of Paul's first attempt to stifle crime on the streets of New York City (or preferably blow it away), and it represents the last screen appearance of the legendary Charles Bronson.

One seriously has to wonder about the mortality rate of Paul Kersey's loved ones. In this sequel Paul once again enters a relationship with a woman about twenty years his junior (the sort of woman that would likely give him a heart attack if they did anything in the bedroom together). His girlfriend this time - a woman in the fashion industry named Olivia (Down) - is involved with the mafia, and dies horribly as a consequence. Kersey is less than pleased about his fiancée's death, bringing about a pertinent question from the police: "You're not thinking about going back to your old ways, are you?"

Of course, asking Paul such a question in a Death Wish movie is akin to asking "Is the sky blue?"

Death Wish V: The Face of Death (reverting back to Roman numerals in the title for reasons unknown) drifts further away from the original Death Wish, dishing up an abundance of action violence (capitalising on Paul's potential to be the next Rambo) rather than providing a societal commentary. Moreover, the Death Wish sequels all unmistakably advocate vigilante justice rather than condoning it, and they continually reiterate the message that the law system doesn't work. It's rubbish. And it's moralistically fucked up.

The problems with Death Wish V mainly stem from the elementary screenplay. The dialogue is flat and the film is packed with clichés (ranging from corrupt cops to a villain who has most of the city on his payroll). The straightforward revenge scenario is stale, and the one-man army formula is preposterous because Paul is so damn old (Bronson was at a ripe old age of seventy-two during filming). The set-up preceding Olivia's death is somewhat extended, as if the screenwriters were trying to establish some form of genuine emotional connection between Paul and Olivia to make her demise more devastating. Yet in the long run, the relationship is too naff and uninteresting. The actors share no chemistry.

The action set-pieces are directed with a certain degree of flair by newcomer Allan A. Goldstein, though everything is fairly pedestrian. Meanwhile (some quotable tough guy dialogue aside) Bronson phones in his performance here, and there's an air of embarrassment accompanying his arthritic manoeuvring during the action sequences. It's unintentionally hilarious watching Bronson leap here and there while the armed villains (who are usually less than three metres away with a clear shot at the man) are unable to hit him. Furthermore, Paul Kersey no longer uses a badass pistol to dish out punishment - now he murders his victims using poison, remote-controlled soccer ball bombs and dry-cleaner's plastic. Bronson is not the face of death in this film...he's the face of old. If another sequel materialised, it probably would've been set in a retirement home.

At its most basic level, Death Wish V: The Face of Death is a watchable action film. If you're seeking violence served up by the shovelful, this movie will scratch that itch (it has a fair amount of action and cool deaths). If you want a further exploration of the fascinating underlying themes of the original Death Wish, however, you shouldn't be watching the sequels. It's difficult to recommend this fifth instalment unless you're a completist. It's depressing that such a low-grade actioner became the final theatrical film of Charles Bronson (who appeared only on television in the years leading up to his death).

Death Wish 6 was apparently considered, but this idea was canned. The quality could have only declined further with a sixth film, so consider it clemency that the planned fifth sequel was never brought to fruition.