Film Review: UNIVERSAL SOLDIER (1992, Roland Emmerich)

Stars: 4 of 5.
Running Time: 102  minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Jean-Claude Van Damme (BLOODSPORT, KICKBOXER), Dolph Lundgren (MASTERS OF THE UNIVERSE, ROCKY IV), Ally Walker (SONS OF ANARCHY, WHILE YOU WERE SLEEPING), Jerry Orbach (LAW AND ORDER, DIRTY DANCING), Leon Rippy (STARGATE, THE PATRIOT), Rance Howard (Ron's dad, FORCED TO KILL, CHINATOWN), Ed O'Ross (LETHAL WEAPON, RED HEAT), Eric Norris (son of Chuck, DELTA FORCE, TOP DOG), Tiny Lister (EXTREME PREJUDICE, JACKIE BROWN), Michael Jai White (SPAWN,  BLACK DYNAMITE).  Music by Christopher Franke (member of Tangerine Dream, MCBAIN, THE TOMMYKNOCKERS).
Tag-line: "The ultimate weapons of the future have just declared war... on each other."
Best one-liner:  "Say goodnight, asshole!"  –"Good night, asshole!"

UNIVERSAL SOLDIER.  Oh yeah.  This is probably the movie that should have been called CYBORG.  For starters, it's actually about cyborgs, unlike CYBORG, which is actually about post-apocalyptic fashion-conscious nomads who happen to be named after popular guitar brands.  But let me get back to UNIVERSAL SOLDIER.  We've got Van Damme as 'Luc Deveraux,' an ambiguously Belgian-American soldier who died in Vietnam while fighting his mortal enemy Dolph Lundgren (as 'Andrew Scott,' an ambiguously Swedish-American soldier.)  Then, their bodies are reanimated and turned into cyborgs by Jerry Orbach, and then they continue to fight each other, all the way to the Grand Canyon.  Toss in an endless bunch of TERMINATOR homages (and rip-off elements), an obligatory truck vs. bus chase, a grocery store shoot out:

 a blown up gas station:

 Technically, it's not an action movie unless they blow up a rustic, Southwestern gas station.

and that's pretty much the movie.  But what a movie it is.  I mean, it came from the minds who made THE HITCHHIKER– what do you expect?  (Note that I said THE HITCHHIKER, not THE HITCHER.)  As I often say, it's the little things that make a movie special, and I'm about to name a few of them.

Where to begin– well, let's see... how about the fact that Dolph Lundgren's sole character motivation seems to be the desire to make human ear-necklaces, and then make groan-inducing puns about them.


In fact, maybe this movie should have been entitled EAR AND LOATHING IN THE GRAND CANYON or THE SWEET EARAFTER or something, because I'm starting to think that UNIVERSAL SOLDIER is too classy a name for this thing.  I mean, it's presumably purloined from a 1960s Canadian folk rock song.  Eh, no matter.

Anyway, Dolph runs rampant across the greater American Southwest, trying to hunt down Van Damme and delivering soliloquies such as "Well, I'm fighting this thing man, it's like kick ass or kiss ass, and I'm busting heads!"

He steals rednecks' belts,

and at one point, a dummy of Dolph flies through the front windshield of a car, prompting the one-liner, "He should have buckled up."

Above all, Dolph realizes what movie he is in, and he's having a hell of a lot of fun with it.  He's given more to do than, say, in ROCKY IV, and he knows that the line "Now where are we gonna shoot her?  In the stomach?  Naaah.  In the chest?  Noooo...  I think... we... should shoot her... IN THE HEAD!" is ridiculous.  I mean, the man was a chemical engineering Fulbright scholar.  So he does his cartoonish best.  I only mention this, because on the opposite side of the coin is a man who's taking this material seriously.  Very seriously.  And that is the subtle majesty of Jean-Claude Van Damme.



Oh, no!

Van Damme is an Actor, with a capital A.  Don't believe me?  I offer proof:


Sometimes Acting requires a long, lingering shot of Van Damme's ass cheeks.

 The immediate aftermath of a long, lingering shot of Van Damme's ass cheeks.

Sometimes Acting requires a plot point that Van Damme must get naked and cover himself in ice every two hours.

 Insert one of Schwarzenegger's Mr. Freeze one-liners here.

And sometimes Acting requires THIS, the context and precise nature of which I shall refuse to explain:

 Make sure nobody gets poked in the eye or anything?

I love how almost every JCVD film feels that, despite whatever other mind-boggling suspensions of disbelief are in play, his accent must be addressed.

Later, he's revealed to have vaguely Cajun heritage.  Also, his dad is Rance Howard.  Which, I think makes him Clint Howard's brother.  But I digress.

There's also a wonderful plot element that means JCVD's cyborg-self is always hungry.  This leads to him eating an entire diner's worth of food, which, when he has no money to pay for the feast, leads to a brawl with the chef and several patrons, and some lunch-related one-liners are thrown in there, too.

After kick-blasting everyone into submission, he gets his hands on a complimentary plastic basket of bar popcorn, and the look on his face may very well be the purest distillation of "childish happiness" ever captured on film, at least since Michael Jackson got to live out his "claymation duets and giant transforming robot saving the world" fantasies in MOONWALKER. I mean, look at him:

How could you not be charmed by that kiddie-level sincerity?  Awwww, allllllright– Give him the popcorn, says the audience.  Give him ALL the popcorn.  He earned it.  (Ask me later about my conspiracy theory that JCVD was paid for his role in this film exclusively in popcorn.)

Anyway, it all leads to a final, ridiculous martial arts duel that ends with one of our two combatants suffering a Lucio Fulci-style impalement and then being SHREDDED TO DEATH BY A HAY BALER.  If that's not worth four stars, I'm not quite sure what is.  

Thanks for everything, UNIVERSAL SOLDIER.  Four stars.

-Sean Gill

Also, many further thanks to the wondrous featurette on the DVD called "A Tale of Two Titans," which features interviews with Dolph and JCVD, ridiculous low-budget re-enactment cutaways of everything they're talking about, JCVD doing a Menahem Golan impersonation, Dolph plugging his new production company "Thor Pictures," and the following archival photos of them as youngsters!

Film Review: OUT FOR JUSTICE (1991, John Flynn)

Stars: 4.2 of 5.
Running Time: 91 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Written by David Lee Henry (ROAD HOUSE, THE EVIL THAT MEN DO). Music by David Michael Frank (THE HERO AND THE TERROR). Starring Steven Seagal, William Forsythe (EXTREME PREJUDICE, PATTY HEARST), Jerry Orbach, Gina Gershon, Julianna Margulies (ER), Raymond Cruz (CLEAR & PRESENT DANGER, THE SUBSTITUTE), bit part by John Leguizamo.
Tag-line: "He's a cop. It's a dirty job... but somebody's got to take out the garbage."
Best one-liner: "Yo, fuck nuts!"


Director John Flynn is a master craftsman. He was the kind of detail-oriented, old Hollywood workman who could've become a Steven Spielberg had his proclivities leaned toward family-friendly fare instead of movies where Steven Seagal bashes some dude's brains in with a hard salami.

The salami-bludgeon is hurtling through space with such speed that it made an adequate screencap nearly impossible.

This is why John Flynn is the man. A man of action. And OUT FOR JUSTICE is all about action. Martial arts action. Mafia action. Cop action. Revenge action. Old school, rip-roaring action. Meat cleaver action. Action action action.

YEOWWWWW


It's a gritty slice of the 70's served up on a 90's plate with an 80's garnish. It's the kind of work that should result in Sam Fuller takin' a long drag from one of his token cigars and delivering an appreciative nod, which is really the only kind of work that's worth talking about.

Seagal plays a "wop motherfuckah" named Gino, an old-New York-style cop with deep-rooted ties to the community––but right now, he's got only one thing on his mind: and it's revenge. In particular, revenge against a totally psychopathic, crack-smoking, innocent-bystander-killing, pasty, portly madman played by the one and only William Forsythe.

Does anyone want to lay down some odds on whether Forsythe is actually smoking that crack?


This one speaks for itself.


WILLIAM FORSYTHE WILL BREATHE IN YOUR FACE, AND YOU WILL HAVE NO CHOICE BUT TO LIKE IT


I still want to see a movie where Forsythe plays Richard Masur's evil twin. 


During the apocalyptic final duel, Seagal accidentally broke Forsythe's nose for real. Forsythe likely responded by laughing maniacally and lapping up his own blood.

Now, whether or not this movie remains faithful to the codes, operations, and minutiae of neighborhood organized crime in Brooklyn is not for me to say. I will say that I was completely convinced- and in the context of this movie, isn't that all that matters? Flynn's matter-of-fact style and David Lee Henry's brawny screenplay lend themselves to this kind of verisimilitude––each anecdote and interaction possesses the plain ring of truth; every character seems perfectly capable of meting out the necessary violence and/or tough talk. It's peppered with old school New Yorkers like Jerry Orbach and Sal Richards, there's a few nods to classic NY crime movies like MEAN STREETS and FRENCH CONNECTION, and the violence has a sort of sordid, bone-crunching, back alley aesthetic to it.

The brothel shootout in the last act even hearkens back to the barbaric finale of Flynn's own ROLLING THUNDER.

The supporting roles are solid and believable, from Julianne Margulies' despondent neighborhood prostitute to Gina Gershon as Forsythe's spitfiery sis:

to Jerry Orbach as a "gettin' too old for this shit" cop.


In other words, Jerry Orbach, do you mean you're... too old... to... dress like THIS:


Our hero has a ponytail, a penchant for wearing berets and vests, and, at one point, uses a pool cue to duel a martial arts expert aptly named "Sticks" ("POKE HIS EYE OUT!").




He even saves puppies. He's a dedicated follower of fashion. He's a well respected man about town, doin' the best things so conservatively. Apparently he is the culmination of human perfection, according to Kinks lyrics.

I wish I had the balls to gallivant about Coney Island with a beret upon my crown and a puppy within my grasp.

In other words- yes, this movie has moxie. I mean, look at how Seagal defuses potentially volatile situations––how many movies end with a minor villain rolling around on the ground groaning "My balls, my balls..." as a puppy takes a piss on his face?



I say: only the best ones. A little over four stars.