Review: Die Hard (dir. by John McTiernan)

Posted on December 24, 2025 by Arleigh

“Welcome to the party, pal!” — John McClane

Die Hard is the ultimate Christmas film (though not the greatest) disguised as an action thriller, blending holiday cheer with high-stakes mayhem in a way that has sparked endless debates and turned it into a seasonal staple for millions. It stands as a landmark action movie and a sharp, character-driven thriller that continues to set the standard for the genre. The film mixes bombast with genuine heart, balancing tension, wit, and raw emotion so effectively that its imperfections only add to its enduring appeal.

Released in 1988 under John McTiernan’s direction, Die Hard follows New York cop John McClane (Bruce Willis) arriving in Los Angeles during the holidays to reconcile with his estranged wife Holly at her office Christmas party in Nakatomi Plaza. He’s fresh off a transcontinental flight, nursing a cocktail of jet lag and marital tension, hoping a festive gathering might thaw the ice between them after her career move to the West Coast has strained their family life. No sooner has he kicked off his shoes—famously leaving him barefoot for most of the chaos—than a disciplined crew of armed robbers, masquerading as terrorists under the command of Hans Gruber (Alan Rickman), storms the building, holding the revelers captive and forcing McClane to fight back shoeless and outgunned amid the towering offices. This lean setup—one man, one skyscraper, one chaotic evening—drives the story’s relentless pace, with straightforward spatial awareness keeping viewers locked into the rising peril. The Christmas setting isn’t just window dressing; twinkling lights, carols on the soundtrack, and a rooftop Santa sleigh add layers of irony and warmth to the gunfire, making the film a peculiar but perfect yuletide watch.

The movie refreshingly casts its action lead as an everyday underdog, full of sarcasm and frailty rather than invincible machismo. McClane takes real damage—he’s slashed by glass, battered by falls, and wheezing from asthma attacks—freaks out under pressure, second-guesses himself constantly, and limps through the ordeal covered in cuts and shards while grumbling about his lousy luck. These moments of raw vulnerability humanize him in a genre often dominated by perfect physiques and unflappable cool. Bruce Willis brings a rumpled, relatable edge to the role, drawing from his TV background on Moonlighting to infuse McClane with quick-witted banter and hangdog charm, making his pigheaded risks and desperate quips—like his tense radio chats or infamous air vent shuffle—land as the outbursts of an ordinary Joe desperate for survival and a way out. Willis’s casting was a gamble at the time, pivoting from wisecracking detective to gritty hero, but it paid off by redefining what an action star could be: flawed, funny, and fiercely determined.

Hans Gruber remains a standout antagonist, living up to every ounce of his legendary status—and remarkably, this was Alan Rickman’s very first film role, launching him into stardom with a performance that still defines screen villainy. Fresh from stage work, Rickman infuses him with suave detachment and subtle menace, his silky British accent dripping with condescension as he portrays a criminal mastermind who approaches the heist like a hostile merger, his cultured facade slipping just enough to reveal cold ruthlessness. Lines like his mocking “Mr. Mystery Guest” taunts or his gleeful disdain for American excess have become iconic, delivered with a theatrical precision that elevates Gruber above typical thugs. Clever writing highlights his contempt for yuppie excess and delight in red tape, while McTiernan’s direction turns their encounters into personal showdowns brimming with verbal sparring beyond mere firepower, turning cat-and-mouse into a battle of intellects as much as endurance.

A strong ensemble bolsters the narrative without bogging down the momentum. Bonnie Bedelia’s Holly exudes quiet strength, proving herself a sharp professional unafraid of bosses or bandits, which elevates her rapport with McClane above clichéd rescue tropes—she’s calling shots from the hostage room and holding her own in tense negotiations. Reginald VelJohnson’s Sergeant Al Powell elevates a stock radio contact into the story’s heartfelt core, offering McClane solace and shared regrets during their poignant nighttime talks about lost family and second chances, creating an unlikely but touching bromance across police lines. Figures like Hart Bochner’s smarmy Ellis, with his coke-fueled deal-making, or William Atherton’s pushy journalist Richard Thornburg, chasing scoops with ruthless ambition, add biting commentary on greed and sensationalism, sharpening the film’s take on ’80s excess and how corporate snakes and media vultures complicate the crisis. Even smaller roles, like the hapless deputy chief or the bickering SWAT team, paint a vivid picture of institutional incompetence that McClane must navigate alone.

Die Hard excels in choreographing escalating clashes within tight quarters, turning the skyscraper into a multi-level chessboard. McTiernan masterfully exploits Nakatomi’s design—raw construction levels with exposed beams, service elevators for ambushes, fire stairs slick with tension, upper decks for sniper duels, and cubicle warrens for close-quarters chaos—to distinguish every skirmish from rote shootouts, ensuring each fight feels unique and earned. Precise editing weaves between McClane’s scrambles, captive dread, robber schemes, and external responders, layering suspense without devolving into explosive filler; the cross-cutting builds dread as plans intersect disastrously. Standout sequences thrill because of careful buildup around deadlines and official blunders, like ill-timed interventions that raise the stakes sky-high. The practical effects—real stunts, squibs, and pyrotechnics—give the action a tangible weight that CGI-heavy modern films often lack, grounding the spectacle in sweat and physics.

Blending laughs with savagery proves the film’s toughest feat, yet it mostly triumphs. McClane’s biting comebacks, taped to dead bodies or barked into walkie-talkies, and the dark comedy amid cop-thug banter sustain levity amid dire threats and mounting casualties, preventing the film from tipping into grim slog. Gags like the executive’s C4 “gift” or Powell’s Twinkie diet poke fun at excess without diffusing danger. Certain gags and era-specific jabs feel dated—like mockery of inept brass or overzealous feds—but this institutional skepticism fuels the plot, portraying red tape and hubris as lethal as automatic weapons, a theme that resonates in any age of bloated bureaucracies.

The film’s action overload, ironically its signature strength, occasionally trips it up. Later stretches bombard with relentless blasts and ballets, prompting some to decry the carnage’s intensity or plot holes from initial reviews, where critics noted the escalating body count’s numbing effect. Elements like tactical decisions by authorities or vault breach logistics falter on nitpicks, relying now and then on lucky breaks to align the chaos, such as perfectly timed discoveries or overlooked details in the heist plan. Fans of taut caper tales might see the wilder antics as indulgence over invention, prioritizing popcorn thrills over airtight logic. Yet these are minor quibbles in a runtime that clocks in under two hours, keeping energy high without exhaustion.

Yet a solid emotional arc lends depth beyond mere spectacle. Fundamentally, it’s about a bullheaded officer confronting his marital neglect, enduring brutal comeuppance while seeking redemption amid the tinsel and terror. His raw confessions to Powell inject humanity that heightens the personal stakes, turning isolated survival into a quest for reconnection. The script, adapted from Roderick Thorp’s novel Nothing Lasts Forever, weaves family drama into the frenzy without halting the pace, making quieter moments—like shared vulnerabilities over radio—punch harder than any explosion.

Technically, Die Hard brims with assured flair bordering on swagger. Cinematographer Jan de Bont’s lenses capture glassy surfaces, mirrors for disorienting reflections, and soaring perspectives to render the tower both glamorous and hostile, a glassy trap turned warzone that mirrors the characters’ fractured relationships. Crisp cuts allow pauses for character amid the rush, preserving brisk tempo without shortchanging development; McTiernan’s post-Predator confidence shines in rhythmic pacing that breathes. Michael Kamen’s soundtrack fuses orchestral surges with jingly carols like “Let It Snow,” amplifying the bizarre fusion of festivity and fusillades that forever fuels “Christmas movie” arguments—ho-ho-hos interrupted by hails of bullets.

Die Hard‘s influence reshaped action cinema, birthing the “Die Hard in a [location]” trope for enclosed thrillers, from buses to battleships, spawning endless imitators chasing its formula. Sequels amplified scale at the cost of grounded heroism, proving surface mimics—snark, stunts, scheming foes—miss the original’s vulnerable punch, as later entries piled on global threats and gadgets. Detractors note it paved paths for bloated pyrotechnics in successors, but that’s on copycats, not this taut gem; its box-office success—over $140 million worldwide—proved audiences craved smart spectacle.

All told, Die Hard delivers razor-sharp, hilarious, masterfully built blockbuster entertainment that ages like fine whiskey. Pairing a rugged everyman lead, suave nemesis, and geography-smart sequences, it raises a benchmark few match. Flaws like overkill blasts or shaky rationale aside, its tension, depth, and gritty laughs cement its throne in action lore, a holiday gift that keeps on giving.

Review: Lethal Weapon (dir. by Richard Donner)

Posted on December 15, 2025 by Arleigh

“I’m too old for this shit.” — Roger Murtaugh

Lethal Weapon is one of those action movies that looks like pure genre formula on paper but somehow plays like lightning in a bottle on screen. From the opening moments, it feels like a film that knows exactly what kind of ride it wants to deliver and leans into that mission with confidence, attitude, and just enough heart to make the bullets and explosions actually matter.

The premise itself is as straightforward as they come, and that simplicity is part of the charm. Martin Riggs is the textbook “cop on the edge,” a former special forces sniper whose life has completely fallen apart after the death of his wife. He’s volatile, depressed, and teetering on the edge of suicidal, which gives everything he does an extra layer of danger. On the other side of the pairing is Roger Murtaugh, a seasoned detective staring down his 50th birthday, trying to balance a long career in homicide with the quiet, constant pull of his family at home. When these two are thrown together and assigned to a case involving drugs, dead bodies, and shady ex-military criminals, the story plays out across familiar beats: suspicious deaths, escalating confrontations, close calls, and a trail that leads them deeper into a dangerous operation. The crime plot is pulpy and direct rather than twisty, but the film uses it as a sturdy framework rather than the main point of interest, keeping the investigation moving while the characters come into focus. Much of that sharp setup and snappy progression comes from Shane Black’s script, which crackles with knowing genre savvy, pitch-perfect banter, and a keen eye for how personal pain fuels action-hero antics.

What really makes Lethal Weapon feel alive is how much time it spends letting Riggs and Murtaugh exist as people before they fully morph into the “classic duo” that pop culture remembers. The film doesn’t rush past the small stuff. Riggs is introduced living in a rundown trailer on the beach with his scruffy dog for company, drinking and stumbling through life with the casual recklessness of someone who genuinely doesn’t care if he sees tomorrow. Those early moments of him alone, flirting with self-destruction, give his later heroics a sense of tragic context: he’s not just fearless, he’s half-convinced he has nothing left to lose. Murtaugh’s introduction is a complete contrast: a crowded home, kids, a loving wife, and the kind of loud, chaotic domestic life that’s full of relatable irritation and warmth. Seeing him grumble through birthday milestones or awkwardly handle family situations does more for his character than any speech about his years on the force could. These slices of everyday life build a strong emotional foundation so that when the bullets start flying, there’s something at stake beyond catching bad guys. Black’s writing shines here, weaving those intimate details into the thriller beats without ever feeling forced or preachy.

The chemistry between Mel Gibson and Danny Glover is the film’s true secret weapon. Gibson plays Riggs as an unpredictable live wire, able to flip from goofy physical comedy to chilling seriousness in an instant. He sells the idea that this is a man barely keeping it together, yet still razor-sharp when it comes to the job. There’s a constant sense that his jokes and antics are a flimsy barrier over something very raw. Glover, by contrast, keeps Murtaugh grounded and human; his performance is packed with little sighs, muttered reactions, and weary facial expressions that speak volumes. He comes across as a guy who has seen too much, loves his family, and genuinely wants to do the right thing, but is exhausted by how hard that is in practice. Their initial friction hits the expected “mismatched partners” beats: Murtaugh thinks Riggs is unstable and dangerous, while Riggs treats Murtaugh like a fussy old man who doesn’t get it. Yet as they move through stakeouts, interrogations, and gunfights, their banter evolves from pure irritation into an easy rhythm filled with barbs, mutual respect, and eventually real affection. Shane Black’s dialogue is the glue for all of it—witty, profane, and laced with just enough vulnerability to make the laughs land harder and the tension feel real.

Richard Donner’s direction is a huge part of why all of this clicks as well as it does. He has a knack for blending big, commercial genre instincts with an eye for character detail, and Lethal Weapon is a textbook example of that balance. He stages action scenes with clear geography and rhythm, so even when things get loud and chaotic, you always know where you are and what everyone is trying to do. At the same time, he’s just as interested in the quiet beats: a pause on Riggs’ face after a joke lands flat, Murtaugh’s body language when he walks into his noisy home after a brutal day, the way a conversation in a car can shift from banter to confession in a couple of lines. Donner keeps the film moving at a brisk pace, but he knows when to let a shot linger or a silence hang long enough to tell you what the characters can’t quite say out loud. His tonal control—jumping from dark to funny to tense without completely losing the thread—is a big reason the movie doesn’t collapse under its own genre juggling, and it pairs beautifully with Black’s script that sets up those shifts so precisely.

Tonally, Lethal Weapon walks a tricky line, and that’s a big part of its identity. On one hand, this is a story with genuinely dark undercurrents. Riggs’ suicidal impulses are not a throwaway character quirk; the film gives time to scenes where he nearly acts on them and struggles in a very raw way with his grief and loneliness. The case they’re working breaks open into territory involving drugs, exploitation, and violence that’s sometimes nasty rather than cleanly heroic. On the other hand, the film is full of humor, ranging from quick one-liners to broad physical bits. The Murtaugh household provides a lot of that levity: awkward conversations with his kids, Riggs stumbling through family dynamics, and the contrast between domestic calm and the chaos of the streets. The movie often jumps from heavy emotional beats to comedic ones and back again, and while the transitions can be abrupt, that mixture is part of what keeps it from feeling like just another grim cop story. The laughter doesn’t erase the darker material, but it does give the movie a sense of momentum and charm that keeps it entertaining instead of oppressive. Black’s screenplay nails this push-pull, using humor as both release valve and revelation.

As an action film, Lethal Weapon delivers a steady run of sequences that are energetic, clear, and tactile. The action is built around physical stunts, dangerous-looking falls, and gunfights that feel chaotic without becoming incoherent. One memorable sequence has Riggs dealing with a jumper on a rooftop in a way that instantly tells you everything about his mentality and willingness to risk himself. Another set piece in a more open, exposed environment lets the film escalate tension step by step before violence finally erupts. Through it all, Donner keeps a strong sense of spatial clarity; you can track where the characters are, what they’re trying to do, and how each decision raises the stakes. The fights feel scrappy and painful rather than overly slick, and that slightly rough quality actually works in the movie’s favor, making each impact land harder. Riggs, especially, moves like a human weapon, hurling himself into situations with a recklessness that ties directly into his psychological state, all fueled by Black’s clever plotting that makes those risks feel personal.

Underneath the gunfire and explosions, there’s a surprisingly sturdy emotional core tying everything together. Riggs’ grief isn’t just window dressing; it’s the lens through which his every decision makes sense. The movie doesn’t lecture you about what he’s feeling, but it shows it—through quiet moments alone, through the anger that erupts at all the wrong times, and through the way he throws his body into danger almost as if daring the world to take him out. Murtaugh’s arc is more subtle but still strongly drawn. He’s at an age where he has to confront the reality that he can’t keep pace with younger, more reckless colleagues forever, and yet his sense of duty keeps pulling him into situations where his family might lose him. Throughout their investigation, Murtaugh’s protective instincts—toward his loved ones, toward Riggs, and toward innocent people caught in the crossfire—become as important as his skills as a detective.

The relationship that develops between Riggs and Murtaugh is the heart of the film and the main reason it sticks in the memory. At first, Murtaugh just wants to survive partnering with a man he genuinely believes might be unhinged, while Riggs seems to treat their pairing as just another chaotic twist in a life already off the rails. As they trade confessions, back each other up in tight spots, and slowly understand what the other is carrying, their bond shifts into something like brotherhood. Murtaugh becomes a kind of anchor for Riggs, offering not just backup in a fight but also a place at the table, both literally and figuratively. Riggs, in turn, forces Murtaugh out of his comfort zone, reminding him that he still has plenty of courage and fire left in him. The film doesn’t turn their connection into a sentimental soapbox, but it lets small moments—a shared laugh after a narrow escape, a quiet conversation after the chaos—do the emotional lifting, with Black’s words giving those scenes their understated power.

If there’s a clear weak spot, it’s that the villains are fairly thinly drawn, operating more as looming threats than fully realized characters. They are dangerous and organized, capable of serious brutality and clearly involved in serious criminal operations, but the movie doesn’t spend much time exploring their motivations or inner lives. They’re the kind of antagonists designed to be obstacles: formidable enough to make the heroes’ victories feel earned, but not so complex that they distract from the central duo. For a character-driven action film, that trade-off mostly works. When Lethal Weapon is firing on all cylinders, the tension doesn’t come from wondering what the bad guys will do next so much as from seeing how Riggs and Murtaugh will handle whatever gets thrown at them and what that reveals about who they are.

Structurally, the film keeps a tight pace, always nudging the story forward even when it pauses for character beats. Expository scenes rarely feel like dry info dumps; they’re often laced with jokes, personal jabs, or subtle shifts in how the two leads relate to each other. The downtime moments—a quiet drink, a shared meal, a conversation in a car between partners who would rather pretend they’re fine—are as important as the louder ones. By the time the case ramps up to its most intense passages, there’s been enough time with these characters to care less about the mechanics of the plot and more about whether these two damaged, stubborn men can come out the other side with something to hold onto.

What ultimately makes Lethal Weapon work so well is that it doesn’t settle for being just a checklist of genre requirements. Yes, it has gunfights, dark humor, car chases, and tough-guy posturing. But wrapped around all of that is a story about grief, aging, loyalty, and how unlikely partnerships can change the trajectory of a person’s life. Donner’s steady hand behind the camera, Shane Black’s razor-sharp script, and the powerhouse performances turn what could have been a forgettable cop thriller into something much more memorable. For anyone who enjoys action movies that care as much about the people pulling the triggers as the bullets they fire, Lethal Weapon stands out as a defining entry in the buddy-cop mold, powered by the messy, heartfelt dynamic at its center and the sure-footed craftsmanship that brings it all together.

Late Night Retro Television Review: 1st & Ten 1.3 “All Roads Lead To Dayton”

Posted on July 30, 2025 by Lisa Marie Bowman

Welcome to Late Night Retro Television Reviews, a feature where we review some of our favorite and least favorite shows of the past! On Wednesdays, I will be reviewing 1st and Ten, which aired in syndication from 1984 to 1991. The entire series is streaming on Tubi.

This week, the Bulls are on the road!

Episode 1.3 “All Roads Lead to Dayton”

(Dir by Bruce Seth Green, originally aired on December 9th, 1984)

The Bulls are playing their second game in Dayton! It’s a road game and Coach Denardo tells all of the players that they are expected to conduct themselves like gentlemen on the road.

“Booooo!” the team replies.

Denardo replies, “I know but the owner’s a broad now….”

Speaking of Dana Barrow, she has a lot to deal with. The Arcola Brothers are still trying to muscle their way into the team’s business. Meanwhile, her ex-husband, Paul (now played by Ben Cooper), is determined to get his team back. At the hotel in Dayton, he and his sleazy lawyer arrange for Dana’s drink to be drugged so that the hotel’s assistant manager can rape Dana while being filmed by a camera hidden behind a two-way mirror. They plan to leak the tape to the press and claim that Dana is a nymphomaniac who shouldn’t be allowed to own an NFL team. Fortunately, quarterback Bob Dorsey stops by Dana’s hotel room to discuss an offer he’s gotten to become a sports commentator and he proceeds to beat the hell out of the assistant manager, shatter the mirror, and give the camera the finger. And he wins the game!

Take that, Dayton!

He even scores an extra touchdown, just so the Mafia won’t make any money on their bets.

Take that, Arcola Brothers!

The episodes of 1st & Ten that are on Tubi are apparently a combination of episodes that were edited for syndication and the original HBO episodes. The version that I saw of All Roads to Dayton was clearly the HBO original, as there was significant amount of cursing and quite a bit of nudity. I get the feeling that those were the two main reasons that 1st and Ten found success when it first aired. It certainly wasn’t for the acting or the storylines, neither of which were especially noteworthy. That said, I’m from Dallas and I’ve heard all the stories about the Cowboys and Jerry Jones so I imagine that this episode’s depiction of a football team on a road trip was probably fairly tame when compared to the real thing.

As for this episode, Dana was a bit too naive to be believed. Delta Burke actually gives a good performance as Dana but the scripts continually let her down. We’re only three episodes in and Roger, the team’s general manager, has planted drugs in her house, caused Bob to get seriously injured during practice, and drugged her so that she could be raped in her hotel room. I would seriously be looking for a new general manager at this point. On the plus side, I do like Geoffrey Scott’s performance as Bob Dorsey. He’s charming without being smarmy about it.

Next week …. more football stuff, I guess.

Demolition Man (1993, directed by Marco Brambilla)

Posted on July 6, 2025 by Jedadiah Leland

File written by Adobe Photoshop¨ 4.0

In the near future, law-breakers and other destructive types are not put in prison but are instead cryogenically frozen and left in suspended animation until they’ve served out their sentences. The most fearsome criminal in the world, Simon Phoenix (Wesley Snipes) has been frozen but so has his nemesis, Detective John Spartan (Sylvester Stallone).

In the far future, Los Angeles is a part of a megalopolis named San Angeles. Envisioned and watched over by a seemingly benign dictator named Cocteau (Nigel Hawthorne), San Angeles is a wannabe utopia where cursing leads to an automatic fine and all of the restaurants are Taco Bell. When he’s thawed out for a parole hearing, the suddenly super-powered Phoenix makes his escape. The police, no longer knowing how to deal with violence, make the reluctant decision to thaw out John Spartan. Assigned to work with the enthusiastic Lenina Huxley (Sandra Bullock), Spartan must navigate this strange future to defeat Phoenix.

For some reason, Demolition Man never seems to get the respect that it deserves. Made at a time when both the Rambo and the Rocky franchises appeared to be over, Demolition Man features one of Stallone’s most appealing performances as he deals with a society where just saying a bad word can cause a scandal. Just as Spartan proves that his brand of destructive police work still has its place in the future, Stallone proved that he could still carry an action movie in 1993. There’s a lot of knowing humor to Stallone’s performance. After a series of failed comedies in the 80s, Demolition Man was the movie that proved that Stallone could be intentionally funny. Stallone is also surrounded by one of his strongest supporting casts. Wesley Snipes attacks his villainous role with gusto while Denis Leary breaks out his stand-up routine as Edgar Friendly, the leader of San Angeles’s rebels. This is also the film that led to Sandra Bullock getting cast in Speed and she’s so incredibly adorable here that even Stallone breaks out into a smile while acting opposite her

(In 1993, you couldn’t turn on television without seeing Sandra Bullock saying, “All restaurants are Taco Bell.”)

Demolition Man is an action film and it lives up to its name, with all the demolition that a viewer could want. Even more so, It’s also a satire, of both Stallone’s previous films and what was then known as “political correctness.” Demolition Man’s portrayal of a sterile society where everyone had been programmed to be docile and inoffensive wasn’t that far off from what a lot of politicians were then promoting for America at large. Luckily, John Spartan was around to put an end to that. The end result is one of Sylvester Stallone’s most memorable films.

Street Fighter (1994, directed by Stephen E. de Souza)

Posted on May 10, 2025 by Jedadiah Leland

What does the M. stand for in M. Bison?

Originally, it was supposed to stand for Mike but my theory is that it stands for Marvelous because how else can you describe Raul Julia’s performance as the villain of Street Fighter? Julia was dying of stomach cancer when he played Bison, a condition reflected by his gaunt appearance. But Julia still obviously threw himself into every scene, delivering every melodramatic line as if it was the most important piece of dialogue that he had ever been trusted with delivering. As a film, Street Fighter is an overedited mess that features one of Jean-Claude Van Damme’s worst performances. Raul Julia saves it, though. He gets some of the worst lines and transforms them into the best lines through sheer determination. That man could have read the phone book and made it interesting.

Jean-Claude Van Damme is Col. Guile in this early video game adaptation. This isn’t one of Van Damme’s better performances. He doesn’t really play the Guile from the game. Instead, he’s just Van Damme with a blue beret and an American flag on his bicep. Far better are Damian Chapa as Ken and Bryon Mann as Ryu, even though neither gets to do as much as a fan of the game would want them to. Ming-Na Wen is a promising Chun Li but, instead of focusing on her fighting skill, the movie gets bogged down in trying to set her up for a sequel that would never come. Are you a fan of Cammy? Don’t get excited because all Kylie Minogue does is ask Guile if he’s okay. I did like Wes Studi as Sagat and Gregg Rainwater and Peter Tuiasosopo as T. Hawk and Honda but it still feels like only Raul Julia gives a performance that can compete with the video game version of his character.

There were four editors credited for Street Fighter and maybe that explains why the fights are a mess and the plot is impossible to follow. It’s a video game adaptation and I don’t demand much but I would like to know who is winning each fight. The film’s visual scheme, meant to duplicate the look of the game, showed some promise but the editing gave the movie a frantic feel that made it difficult to really appreciate the production design.

There’s never really been a good Street Fighter film but I still think it could happen with the right cast and crew. If Mortal Kombat could (eventually) be turned into a decent movie, why not Street Fighter? I still don’t think anyone will ever top Raul Julia as M. Bison, though. Raul Julia made you believe in Pax Bisonica!

“And peace will reign and all humanity will bow to me in humble gratitude.” — M. Bison

#SundayShorts with WEDLOCK (1991)!

Posted on January 26, 2025 by Bradley Crain

Since Sunday is a day of rest for a lot of people, I present #SundayShorts, a weekly mini review of a movie I’ve recently watched.

Master diamond thief Frank Warren (Rutger Hauer) pulls off a big job with the help of his fiancé Noelle (Joan Chen) and his best friend Sam (James Remar). Unfortunately, after the job is finished, Noelle unceremoniously ends her courtship with Frank when she shoots him multiple times because she’s now hooked up with Sam. The next time we see Frank, who somehow survived the close-range shootings, he’s on a bus to a prison called Camp Holliday, which is run by Warden Holliday (Stephen Tobolowsky). Camp Holliday is a high-tech prison where each inmate is gifted a collar containing an explosive device that also happens to be electronically connected to another inmate. As long as the two prisoners are within 100 yards from each other, it’s all good. If they are separated by more than 100 yards, their collars will explode leaving a bloody nub where their head used to be. And since nobody knows who their “wedlock partner” is, trying to escape is not a strong option. One day fellow prisoner Tracy Riggs (Mimi Rogers) comes to Frank and tells him that she’s his wedlock partner. Through a variety of circumstances, the two are able to escape, but they still must maintain their 100-yard proximity as the authorities try to track them down. Meanwhile, Sam and Noelle, and even Warden Holliday, have all teamed up to try to find where Frank stashed the diamonds prior to heading to prison. And what about Tracy, who’s side is she really on?

I didn’t have the Home Box Office channel when I was growing up, so I wasn’t aware of this film until it premiered on home video as “DEADLOCK.” Of course, being a huge fan of Rutger Hauer, I rented it as soon as possible. The key to lower budget, made-for TV movies working will always be tied to three things: an entertaining premise, a game cast, and a director who can put the movie together. I’m happy to report that WEDLOCK has each of these things. Even though we had seen exploding neck collars in prison before in THE RUNNING MAN (1987), I like the way this film ties one prisoner’s fate to another’s. That extra dimension makes for some exciting moments in the film. Rutger Hauer is especially good in WEDLOCK. If any other actor was in the lead, I honestly doubt I would have enjoyed it as much, but with him it becomes a fun movie. And the fact that he’s tied to the beautiful Mimi Rogers for most of the movie makes it that much more fun. The remainder of the cast goes pretty far over the top, but that’s okay because subtle character portrayals are not part of the equation in these types of movies. James Remar and Joan Chen are fun as the initial betrayers and current pursuers, Basil Wallace is effectively evil as a bully and fellow inmate, and Stephen Tobolowsky is his usual fun self as Warden Holliday. Director Lewis Teague has a pretty nice resume of interesting films leading up to WEDLOCK, including ALLIGATOR (1980), FIGHTING BACK (1982), CUJO (1983), CAT’S EYE (1985), and NAVY SEALS (1990). He does a fine job here, as the movie has many well executed scenes that play out at a nice pace. Overall, I’ve always been a fan of low budget action movies that are done well. This one fits the bill for me.

Five Fast Facts:

Rutger Hauer and Joan Chen worked on 3 films together, including WEDLOCK. I have a soft spot in my heart for their film THE BLOOD OF HEROES (1989) and recommend it. I thought their other movie, PRECIOUS FIND (1996) was pretty bad. I watched it one time in the 90’s and haven’t watched it since.
WEDLOCK received a Primetime Emmy nomination for “Outstanding Individual Achievement in Sound Editing for a Miniseries or a Special.”
Even though WEDLOCK was set “in the future,” early in the film we see a movie theater marquee showing the Steven Seagal movie MARKED FOR DEATH (1990). I found that interesting considering that Basil Wallace is a bad guy in WEDLOCK, and he played twin brother bad guys in MARKED FOR DEATH. Danny Trejo also has small parts in both WEDLOCK and MARKED FOR DEATH.
Mimi Rogers starred in another film in 1991 called THE RAPTURE. It’s a thought-provoking film that some people love, and some people hate. I personally found it intriguing, and it features a really strong performance from Rogers.
In 1995, the film DEADLOCK 2 was released. It’s not a sequel as it doesn’t build on the events of the first film or bring back any of the characters, but it is set in a world of exploding prison collars. The film stars Esai Morales and Nia Peeples.

When I rented the film in the early 90’s, it was called DEADLOCK. I’m sure I owned it on VHS at one point in my life.

Check out the trailer below:

Night Shift (1982, directed by Ron Howard)

Posted on January 3, 2025 by Jedadiah Leland

Chuck Lumley (Henry Winkler) was a Wall Street wizard until the stress of the job started to give him ulcers. He dropped out of the rat race, got a less stressful job as an attendant at a New York City morgue, and eventually met and became engaged to Charlotte (Gina Hecht). When Chuck’s supervisor decides to give Chuck’s day shift to his new guy, Chuck is promoted to the night shift. “He has the same last name as you,” Chuck says when he learns the about the new employee. “Yeah, I think he’s my nephew or something,” his supervisor replies.

Chuck finds himself working nights with “Billy Blaze” Blazejowski (Michael Keaton), a hyperactive “idea man,” who has so many brilliant plans that he has to carry around a tape recorder so he doesn’t forget them. A typical Billy Blaze idea is to battle litter by creating edible paper. Another one is to rent out the hearse as a limo and give rides to teenagers. Chuck may not be happy about his new shift or coworker but he is happy that he shares his new work schedule with his upstairs neighbor, Belinda Keaton (Shelley Long). Belinda is a high-class prostitute who first meets Chuck when she comes by the morgue to identify the body of her pimp. When Chuck discovers that Belinda needs a new pimp, he and Billy take on the job themselves, which brings them into conflict with not only the vice cops but also with Pig (Richard Belzer) and Mustafa (Grand L. Bush).

Raunchy but good-hearted, Night Shift has always been one of my favorite comedies. Along with being Ron Howard’s first movie for grown-ups, it also featured Michael Keaton in his first lead role. Keaton is both funny and surprisingly poignant as Billy. He’s hyperactive and impulsive and doesn’t think things through but his friendship with Chuck is real and later on in the movie, he reveals himself to have more depth than he lets on. Also giving good performances are Henry Winkler and Shelley Long, two performers better-known for their television work than their film roles. With his role here, Winkler proved that he was capable of playing more than just the Fonz. Shelley Long has probably never been better (or sexier) than she was in this film. The scene where she makes breakfast for Chuck is unforgettable. Even though she’s playing a stock character, the prostitute with a heart of gold, Shelley Long brings her own unique charm to the role and makes Belinda seem like a real person.

Night Shift starts out strong but falters slightly during its second hour, when Chuck and Billy seem to magically go from being nerdy morgue attendants to successful pimps overnight. Some of the violence feels out-of-place in what is essentially a buddy comedy with a dash of romance. It’s still a funny movie that is full of memorable one liners and good performances. As you might expect from Ron Howard, Night Shift is a surprisingly good-hearted look at the business of sex. Ron Howard has directed a lot of films since but few of them are as much fun as Night Shift.

Late Night Retro Television Review: CHiPs 2.7 “High Flyer”

Posted on June 24, 2024 by Lisa Marie Bowman

Welcome to Late Night Retro Television Reviews, a feature where we review some of our favorite and least favorite shows of the past! On Mondays, I will be reviewing CHiPs, which ran on NBC from 1977 to 1983. The entire show is currently streaming on Freevee!

This week, it’s helicopter time!

Episode 2.7 “High Flyer”

(Dir by Gordon Hessler, originally aired on November 4th, 1978)

Ponch in the air?

Not if Ponch has anything to say about it! All of the members of the Highway Patrol are apparently required to spend one day on helicopter patrol but Ponch is scared of heights. First, he pretends to have a cold. Then, he pretends to have an earache, just to discover that the helicopter has been grounded due to bad weather. Finally, the day comes when Ponch has no more excuses and the weather is clear. Ponch goes up in the air but, fortunately, being in the helicopter allows Ponch to spot the van that’s being driven by a bunch of car thieves that he and Baker have spent the entire episode chasing. To give credit where credit is due, the scene where the helicopter chases a thief in a stolen car is genuinely well-shot and exciting to watch. Fortunately, the thief managed to drive some place where no one else was around so the helicopter could then fly way too close to the ground and do a whole bunch of ludicrously dangerous stunts. I’m kind of surprised no one died to be honest.

While Ponch dealt with his fear of flying, Baker dealt with Kim (Cynthia Bain), the teenage daughter of his neighbor, Carol (Mary Louise Weller). After having a fight with her mother, Kim decided to just move into Baker’s apartment. Realizing that Kim had a bit of a crush, Ponch and Baker recruited Sindy Cahill — the only female member of the Highway Patrol who has spent the entire season demanding to be taken seriously — to pretend to be Baker’s girlfriend. Heart-broken, Kim returned home. That was a really terrible ending for what, until that point, had actually been a well-acted look at teen angst and first crushes. Weller, Bain, and Larry Wilcox were all giving sensitive performances so it’s a bit unfortunate that it was all just a set-up for another “Let’s-Demean-Cahill” moment.

So, this episode was not so great when it came to the human drama but it was redeemed by the helicopter action. When in doubt, toss in a helicopter.

Maniac Cop III: Badge of Silence (1992, directed by William Lustig)

Posted on October 29, 2023 by Jedadiah Leland

Despite finally getting his burial with honors at the end of Maniac Cop 2, Matt Cordell (Robert Z’Dar) returns for one last outing. Raised from the dead by a voodoo houngan (Julius Harris), Cordell invades a hospital to seek vengeance for a comatose policewoman named Katie Sullivan (Gretchen Baker). In a coma due to the wounds she received while thwarting a convenience store robbery, Katie is being framed by unscrupulous reporters and attorneys who claim that Katie was a bad cop who killed a clerk in cold blood. Cordell sees Katie as being a fellow victim of anti-cop bias and he is not going to let anyone treat her with disrespect, which is something that two doctors (Robert Forster and Doug Savant) are unfortunate enough to discover. Sean McKinney (Robert Davi) and Dr. Susan Lowery (Caitlin Dulany) try to figure out how to bring peace to the souls of both Cordell and Katie.

As opposed to the first two films, Maniac Cop III had a troubled production. Lustig and screenwriter Larry Cohen wanted to set the film in a Harlem hospital and bring in an African-American detective to investigate Cordell’s activities. The film’s Japanese producers insisted that Robert Davi return as the lead, even though the script’s lead character had little in common with the way Sean McKinney was portrayed in Maniac Cop 2. Larry Cohen then refused to do any rewrites on the script unless he was paid more. William Lustig filmed what he could and ended up with a 51-minute movie. Extra scenes were directed by one of the film’s producers and the film was also padded out with outtakes from Maniac Cop 2.

The film is disjointed and there’s too much time devoted to Jackie Earle Haley playing a character who has much in common Leo Rossi’s serial killer from the second film. (Haley’s performance is fine but the character feels superfluous). But the movie’s hospital setting leads to some interesting kill scenes and Z’Dar and Davi both give good performances as two different types of maniac cops. The supporting cast is full of good character actors like Haley, Forster, Savant, Julius Harris, Bobby Di Cicco, and Paul Gleason. Despite the film’s flaws, Maniac Cop III is a solid ending for the trilogy.

Guilty Pleasure No. 62: Backtrack (dir by Dennis Hopper)

Posted on September 4, 2023 by Lisa Marie Bowman

Sometimes, you see a film that is just so weird and incoherent that you can’t help but love it.

Of course, it also helps if the film has a once-in-a-lifetime cast of actors who you would never expect to see acting opposite each other.

For me, that’s certainly the case with 1990’s Backtrack. Directed by Dennis Hopper, Backtrack is a film about an artist (Jodie Foster, channeling Jenny Holzer) who witnesses a mob murder committed by Joe Pesci, Dean Stockwell, Tony Sirico, and John Turturro. An FBI agent played by Fred Ward suggests that the artist should go into the witness protection program but she doesn’t want to give up her life as a New York sophisticate who creates challenging LED displays and who can eat Sno Balls whenever she gets the craving for one. (Yes, this is a plot point.) Turturro and Sirico break into the artist’s apartment and kill her boyfriend, who is played by a wide-eyed Charlie Sheen. The artist puts on a blonde wig and goes on the run, eventually getting a job in advertising.

Realizing that his men can’t get the job done, mob boss Vincent Price decides to hire a legendary hitman played by Dennis Hopper (who also directed this film) to track down the artist. However, the hitman becomes fascinating with the artist’s work, finds pictures of her posing in black lingerie, and immediately falls in love with her. Not only does he wants to save her life but he wants her to wear the same lingerie exclusively for him. (Yes, this is a pretty big plot point.) At first, the artist refuses and views the hitman as being some sort of pathetic perv. But then she discovers that he’s covered her bed with Sno Balls….

Meanwhile, a young Catherine Keener shows up as the girlfriend of a trucker who briefly considers giving the artist a ride to Canada.

And then Bob Dylan shows up, handling a chainsaw.

And there’s Helena Kallianiotes, the outspoken hitch-hiker from Five Easy Pieces, yelling at Joe Pesci!

And there’s Dennis Hopper’s The Last Movie co-star, Julie Adams! And there’s Toni Basil! And there’s director Alex Cox!

Dennis Hopper not only starred in Backtrack but he also directed and it’s obvious that he placed a call into just about everyone he knew. In fact, one could argue that the only thing more shocking than Vincent Price showing up as a mob boss is that Peter Fonda, Karen Black, Elliott Gould, Robert Walker Jr., and Kris Kristofferson are nowhere to be found in the film. Hopper’s first cut of Backtrack was reportedly 3 hours long but the studio cut it down to 90 minutes, renamed it Catchfire, and Hopper insisted on being credited as Alan Smithee. Later, Hopper released a two-hour version with the Backtrack title and his directorial credit restored.

Regardless of which version you see, Backtrack is an odd film. It’s hardly the first film to be made about a hit man falling for his target. What distinguishes this film is just how bizarre a performance Dennis Hopper gives in the role of the hitman. It’s as if Hopper gave into every method instinct that he had and the end result was a mix of Blue Velvet‘s Frank Booth and the crazed photojournalist from Apocalypse Now. Jodie Foster’s cool intelligence makes her the ideal choice for a conceptual artist but it also makes it hard to believe that she would fall for a jittery hitman and, in her romantic scenes with Hopper, Foster often seems to be struggling to resist the temptation to roll her eyes. Somehow, their total lack of romantic chemistry becomes rather fascinating to work. They are two talented performers but each appears to be acting in a different movie. What’s interesting is that I think a movie just about Hopper’s spacey hitman would be interesting (and, if you’ve ever seen The American Friend, it’s hard not to feel that such a movie already exists) but I think a movie about just about Foster’s artist and her life in New York would be just as fascinating. Taken as individuals, the artist and the hitman are both compelling characters. Taken as a couple, they don’t belong anywhere near each other.

But let’s be honest. This is a film that most people will watch for the parade of character actors delivering quirky dialogue. Even if one takes Hopper and Foster out of this mix, this is an amazingly talented cast. One need only consider that John Turturro did Do The Right Thing before appearing in this film while Joe Pesci and Tony Sirico did Goodfellas immediately afterwards. This film features a once-in-a-lifetime cast, made up of actors who were apparently told to do whatever they felt like doing. Turturro plays up the comedy. Sirico plays his role with cool menace. Stockwell barely speaks above a whisper. Fred Ward plays the one sane man in a world of lunatics. Vincent Price delivers his line as if he’s appearing in one of Roger Corman’s Poe films and somehow, it makes sense that, in the world of Backfire, an Italian gangster would have a snarky, mid-Atlantic accent.

It’s an odd little film, an example of 80s filmmaking with a 70s sensibility. While it’s not touched with the lunatic genius that distinguished Hopper’s The Last Movie, Backtrack is still something that should be experienced at least once.