Only now does it occur to me... that DOUBLE IMPACT takes us but one step closer to the ultimate dream: a movie inhabited only by Jean-Claude Van Dammes.
Sadly, this step is not enough. Honestly, this is one of the weaker JCVD films from his Golden Era, even though the set up is half BATMAN, half-STAR WARS. When their parents are killed (on the way to the opera?) by Hong Kong triads
including, Bolo Yeung, he of the crazy-face in BLOODSPORT,
the identical twin baby JCVDs are separated and whisked away to safety. One remains in Hong Kong to become a badass, and one is whisked off to the U.S.A. by Geoffrey Lewis (EVERY WHICH WAY BUT LOOSE, BRONCO BILLY, SALEM'S LOT, MAVERICK), who is basically the Obi-Wan Kenobi of this scenario.
This American JCVD becomes an '80s aerobics instructor, and there's a reason why the brief scene in his studio is probably the best in the film. That reason is JCVD saying "I can do the splits, no problem" to a bevy of admiring fitness gals "Noooo problem"
and then humping the floor at full extension
for their gratification and ours, apparently. Oh, and did I say this took place inside "JCVD's aerobics studio?" Obviously, I meant "in the waiting room to an office space the production had access to, maybe even the production company's offices."
Not knowing about his secret twin or murdered parents, he then heads to Hong Kong, wearing the best pink-centric ensembles 1991 could provide:
note the shorts: Who... me?
After some mistaken identity shenanigans and JCVD #2 almost accidentally hooking up with JCVD #1's girlfriend who is a kind of "Cannon Films Jessica Rabbit"/"ersatz Jessica Lange" (Alonna Shaw)
the twin brothers have their shocking first meeting: Well-acted, sir
At first, they hate each other because Hong Kong badass JCVD thinks that aerobics instructor JCVD is a "black silk underwear-wearing" homophobic slur.
Somehow they ended up with the exact same physiques and Belgian accents, despite being raised in Hong Kong and the U.S.A., respectively. Unlike the writers of TWINS, the writers of DOUBLE IMPACT are definitely on the "nature" end of the "nature vs. nuture" debate. The dual JCVDs end up fostering a mutual respect from beating up bad guys and shooting them with dual-wielded handguns, which feels like JCVD auditioning for a John Woo movie. The audition worked, by the way––by '93, he was starring in Woo's HARD TARGET
This whole thing is pretty half-baked and there are four names on the screenplay, including Jean-Claude Van Damme himself (who wrote THE QUEST, if you'll recall) and Sheldon Lettich (RAMBO III, BLOODSPORT). There's a BLOODSPORT-referencing scene whereupon somebody's nuts get punched, but unlike in that masterpiece, or in LIONHEART or in KICKBOXER, here it's JCVD getting smacked instead of doing the smacking.
The smacker is Bolo Yeung himself, undermining JCVD's trademark move. (You'll recall that I am the web's leading authority on "brutal ball-squeezing.")
As the film lurches toward its finale, we have a lot of emoting
and a Bolo/JCVD rematch involving a big-ass oil barrel, which feels like a bit out of the video game FINAL FIGHT.
Another highlight is Corinna Everson (NATURAL BORN KILLERS, HERCULES: THE LEGENDARY JOURNEYS), a bodybuilder and Ms. Olympia who plays a minor villain here
and sort of comes across as "dominatrix Laurie Metcalf," or, at the very least, the "Sensational Sherri" to Alonna Shaw's "Miss Elizabeth," as it were.
Anywho, the two JCVDs ultimately hug it out
and it ends on on a freeze frame that is better than 97% of the movie. Notably this freeze frame:
I'll leave you with a benediction, or maybe an epitaph, spoken aloud by my better half near the conclusion of DOUBLE IMPACT:
"CYBORG is a much better movie than this." –My Wife
Only now does it occur to me.... that Shelley Winters' name––writ in the 'CLEOPATRA JONES font' and projected against a Tatooine-esque Turkish landscape––might have inspired the iconic STAR WARS main title.
This was 1973, a full two years before STAR WARS went into production, and while font designer Suzy Rice has explained her influences, isn't it possible that some subliminal memory of seeing Shelley Winters' name so stylishly depicted could have played a small role in one of the most recognizable movie fonts ever made? I'm gonna go ahead and say yes, because it makes me happy.
A few quick thoughts on CLEOPATRA JONES and why it's worth your time: Tamara Dobson (CHAINED HEAT, NORMAN... IS THAT YOU?) is Cleopatra Jones, a fabulous, kung fu-savvy, dirtbike enthusiast, stunt-driver, crack shot DEA Agent who is introduced to us while overseeing an air strike on poppy fields in Turkey. It's a special breed of film that begins with exploding flowers.
Later, we learn she has a ridiculous customized Corvette Stingray (see also: Mark Hamill's in CORVETTE SUMMER) with low-key U.S. Government vanity plates
and a specially-built hydraulic roof that automatically lifts up when she opens her door so that her afro remains unmussed.
Her boyfriend is the sensitive community organizer Bernie Casey (THE RUNNING MAN, THE MAN WHO FELL TO EARTH),
pictured here, as he should be, in an amazing glamour headshot that happens to be decorating Cleo's wicked bachelorette pad/lounge.
Her nemesis is Shelley Winters as the drug kingpin, "Mommy" (to whom the aforementioned Turkish poppy fields belonged), a raging, racist, lesbian who wears a different wig in every scene and delivers a high-hag horror-worthy performance, chewing not merely the scenery, but entire tableaux, co-stars and all.
And yes, on the far right, that is perennial 1970s/Charles Bronson-baddie, Paul Koslo,
whose own, humble, scenery-chewing skills cannot compete with the mistress.
Elsewhere, we have Cleopatra Jones laying down some JCVD-style, high-kicking smack
on Bruce Glover-lookalike and DELIVERANCE rapist Bill McKinney...
...we have one of the finest comebacks in film history from character actor legend Antonio Fargas (FOXY BROWN, SHAFT) who, when asked if he is willing to cross Shelley Winters' "Mommy" responds:
...and finally, I must tip my hat to a film that not only has the balls to make Shelley Winters its lead villain in a performance that might prompt even Divine to advise "maybe you should tone it down a notch," but also is bold enough to end with a show-stopping kung fu battle/fistfight between Shelley and Tamara Dobson.
Stars: 2.5 of 5.
Running Time: 99 minutes.
Tag-line: "ALL NEW! The third dimension is terror. ALL NEW!"
Notable
Cast or Crew: Dennis Quaid (THE RIGHT STUFF, THE BIG EASY, ENEMY MINE), Bess Armstrong (MY SO-CALLED LIFE, HIGH ROAD TO CHINA), Lou Gossett Jr. (AN OFFICER AND A GENTLEMAN, ENEMY MINE, IRON EAGLE), Lea Thompson (BACK TO THE FUTURE, CAROLINE IN THE CITY), John Putch (THE SURE THING, MEN AT WORK), Simon MacCorkindale (THE SWORD AND THE SORCERER, FALCON CREST). Written by Carl Gottlieb (JAWS, THE JERK) and Richard Matheson (many episodes of THE TWILIGHT ZONE, THE INCREDIBLE SHRINKING MAN), Guerdon Trueblood (THE SAVAGE BEES, TARANTULAS: THE DEADLY CARGO), and Michael Kane (SMOKEY AND THE BANDIT II, SOUTHERN COMFORT). Music by Alan Parker (WHAT'S EATING GILBERT GRAPE, AMERICAN GOTHIC) with "Shark Theme" by John Williams.
Best One-liner: "You're talkin' about some damn shark's MOTHER?!"
JAWS 3-D does not bode well from the outset. Our first three-dimensional image, about one minute into the proceedings, is that of a decapitated, rotating, and still-jabbering fish head. So this is how it's going to be, eh?
It was directed by first-and-last-time director Joe Alves, a former Spielberg production designer (JAWS, CLOSE ENCOUNTERS OF THE THIRD KIND) who rather conspicuously never returned to the Spielberg fold post JAWS 3-D.
Loosely inspired by 1955's REVENGE OF THE CREATURE (whereupon the Creature from the Black Lagoon escapes and wreaks havoc on an aquarium), JAWS 3-D sees a baby Great White Shark wander into a Sea World and die in captivity, drawing the ire of its monstrously-sized mother who proceeds to wreak havoc on Sea World. Obviously, Roy Scheider is not involved (he later said, "Mephistopheles... couldn't talk me into JAWS 3"), though Dennis Quaid and John Putch play his grown-up sons, the Brody boys. I sorta think Putch (on the left) should've been Crispin Glover.
Amity (the Massachusetts locale of the first two films) gets a brief shout-out,
and occasionally Alan Parker weaves John Williams' iconic theme into his score,
but for the most part, this is a generic "shark attack" movie with as much to do with the first JAWS as ersatz Italian rip-offs like THE LAST SHARK. Though ostensibly penned in collaboration by JAWS' original screenwriter Carl Gottlieb (who, it must be said, also wrote DOCTOR DETROIT) and Richard Matheson (mastermind novelist and screenwriter who brought us everything from the finest TWILIGHT ZONE episodes to books like I AM LEGEND, SOMEWHERE IN TIME, and WHAT DREAMS MAY COME), the original draft was supposedly butchered by uncredited script doctors and meddling studio execs. Though many an author has made this claim after discovering a stinker on their hands, in this instance I'm inclined to believe them.
I also am somewhat puzzled by Sea World's wholehearted involvement, as they allow their park to host monster mayhem and severed limbs and assorted jaws-chompin'. I suppose the Sea World employees are depicted as heroically selfless, and technically no patrons are eaten, but from my experience, it seems like some corporate lawyer would have tried to shut this down even if management okayed it. There's plenty of shameless, promotional Sea World kitsch to go around, though: We'll always have BLACKFISH, though. (Seriously, you should watch BLACKFISH.)
I went into JAWS 3-D imagining that it would be tawdry, brutal, and nonstop shark-attackery, and on several occasions it lives up to this idea––for instance, when a formation of water skiers are victimized by Jaws, mid-show:
And this. It can't all be this:
and while portions of the film (like the above) are pretty spectacular, much of it is comparatively lifeless, especially when it turns into a low-rent POSEIDON ADVENTURE mid-way through with a handful of patrons trapped in an underwater tunnel. Without Shelly Winters and Gene Hackman, this is pretty pointless. (Or without Rutger Hauer and Steve Guttenberg!)
That about sums it up. But I don't want to leave you on a down note––on to my seven favorite things about JAWS 3-DEEEEEEE!
#7. This man's t-shirt:
It says "LET A GARGOYLE SIT ON YOUR FACE." While this probably refers to Gargoyle™ brand sunglasses (if true, what an ill-considered corporate slogan), I'm going to take it to mean something vaguely and frighteningly sexual, involving the 'ole "satanic sculpture salad-toss."
#6. This glorious and film-concluding freeze frame:
The celebratory dolphins have been clumsily matted in, so as to affect a third dimension. It is plainly ridiculous, and I wholeheartedly approve.
#5. This New Wave barmaid:
She's appears in more than one scene, but only once does she wear this wonderfully 1983 pink headbandin' ensemble. If it weren't for the little things like this, the whole affair would feel very 70s.
#4. Lea Thompson's sexy-crazy-eye.
In this, her feature film debut, she plays a character named "Bukowski" and is intended as a love interest for the younger Brody brother. She appears in your typical 'bikini babe' scenes and she punctuates her performance with pervasive crazy-eye. I applaud this acting choice as it lends a oddly dangerous tension to otherwise banal scenes of romance, though longed for a twist ending where there was in fact no shark at all, but Lea Thompson murdering everyone while wearing a shark costume. This could have been the FRIDAY THE 13TH, PART 5: A NEW BEGINNING of the JAWS series. Alas.
#3. The 3-D. I watched this in 2-D, but it's extremely apparent each time a three-dimensional effect is offered to the viewer. It is not quite as nutty as FRIDAY THE 13TH PART III, with its flying severed eyeballs and yo-yos in da face, but it has the aforementioned fish heads, floating severed arms:
hypodermic needles squirting yellow liquid in our eye: The golden shower you didn't know you needed.
and the coup de grâce of, quite literally, JAWS 3-D: More on this in a moment.
#2. The sad, long journey of Oscar-winner Lou Gossett, Jr.
Poor Lou Gossett, Jr. He just wanted to enjoy a nice beverage and bask in the glory of his Academy Award for AN OFFICER AND A GENTLEMAN. But I can see the future, Lou. I'm looking into my crystal glass. I see that you have an outrageous amount of acting ability, and yet I see... I see four IRON EAGLES. I see a FIREWALKER. I see a straight-to-video LEFT BEHIND sequel. Get out! Escape JAWS 3-D before it's too late!!Aieee!!!
The first time we see Lou, he's looking at a pyramid of water skiers through a pair of binoculars.
He lowers them, and we are privy to the following expression:
He knows. He knows. And it's too late.
In any event, Gossett is permitted to voice his disdain at one point, and using words from the script: Don't talk to Lou Gossett about some damn shark's mother.
You kept your dignity, Lou. Hold your head high! (Also, this film begins what should have been one of the great partnerships––Gossett and Quaid––who would wow us in '85 with the often overlooked sci-fi masterpiece, ENEMY MINE.)
#1. The Sublime and Glorious Death of Jaws 3 (D).
'Nuff said. Two and a half stars. This may be controversial, but I say it's slightly better than JAWS 2, though not quite as delightfully nonsensical and trainwreck-worthy as JAWS 4: THE REVENGE. Obviously, none of these sequels should be uttered within the same breath as their progenitor.
