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Introduction

When Matt Cale came up with the idea to do a guide to 80s on our site, Ruthless Reviews, we whipped up a template covering the key elements of these greatest of all movies: tagline, story, corpse count, one-liners, homeroticism, stupid political content and novelty deaths. We never dreamed that this would be the start of a media empire. And, indeed, it was no such thing. But The Ruthless Guide to 80s Action drew more attention than we anticipated. Whether it be through worn-out VHS tapes or countless hours spent in a drunken stupor, gorging on greasy food while at the mercy of basic cable, millions of us have been permanently branded by the hot poker of 80s Action.

After 10 years documenting the homo-fascist carnage, we‘ve decided to put it all together in a book, along with a lot of new content. So, we recruited some guest contributors from our favorite websites and podcasts covering similar material. Then we tricked them into giving us free content for a broadly offensive book, likely to tarnish the reputations of everyone involved. You‘ll also find new content from our regular group of contributors: The Unemployables. Well, are we gonna sit around the station all day, hiding behind our desks like a bunch of slack-jawed faggots? The answer is yes, but let‘s get to the next part of the book. CONTENTS

80s ACTION TIMELINE

Chapter 1: If it bleeds, we can kill it.

Chapter 2: Yuppies, Penguins and Commies.

Chapter 3: Women's Studies. Also, cyborgs.

Chapter 4: Ooooooh! Navy Seals!

Chapter 5: 80s Action Crossover

Chapter 6: Could Beat Up A Bear With His Beard Or Whatever.

Chapter 7: I Never Said I Was Running For Pope 80s ACTION TIMELINE 1969

You can trace the origins of almost anything back to antiquity, but we‘ll start in 1969. This is when introduces the world to cinema so violent, you need a pen and paper to count the corpses. Director offers a hyper-machismo that would later morph into outright homoeroticism during the 1980s. The opening of the suggests that the viewers are like cruel children for enjoying the carnage. So be it.

1971

Dirty Harry gives us a clearer idea of what will come in the following decade. One-liners, a huge gun and a renegade cop who gets results, in spite of the liberal justice system and a plague of badge-taking Stupid Chiefs. Pauline Kael trashes Don Siegel‘s masterpiece as fascist. Screenwriter John Milius, who gave us ―You‘ve got to ask yourself one question: Do I feel lucky?‖ calls himself a ―zen fascist.‖ 1974

The late lamented stars in Wish, which helps to further establish the ’80s Action template with a violent revenge fantasy conveying the flaws of political liberalism. The film‘s sequels, in which Bronson lands a bigger revolver than ‘s—not to mention the occasional rocket launcher—will be among the finest examples of pure ’80s Action.

1976

Sylvester Stallone writes and acts his way into our hearts with a film people will be aware of—and probably still watching—100 years after its debut. The first Rocky is very much a ‘70s film. A personal story about an outsider stuck in a malaise. Made for $1 million, the franchise goes onto generate... well, I don‘t think anybody even knows. Certainly well over $1 billion, all told. By the next decade, both the Rocky series and Sly in general would be in full-on, commie-crushing, ’80s Action mode. Fun fact: In the original script, Mickey was a vitriolic racist. 1977

Pumping Iron is released and Arnold becomes a blip on the zeitgeist he will one day blitz and dominate. Before long, his redoubtable presence will roll from to the hinterlands, yet we still won‘t be able to get enough. There will be a point in time where we seriously discuss changing the Constitution to allow him to become President of the United States.

1979

Israeli producers and purchase Cannon , through which they would make the sequels, Invasion U.S.A., seven movies with Ninja in the title, and much more of the ’80s Action canon. The pair would later be ruthlessly parodied in Bukowski‘s Hollywood. Though accused of all kinds of dishonesty and cheating, they leave an enduring legacy to humanity. 1980

―I am Emperor Ronald Reagan / born again with fascist cravings,‖ warn the Dead Kennedys. They are pretty much right, as unions are crushed, corporations take permanent control of government, progressive taxation is launched into history‘s dustbin and the military industrial complex is locked into high gear, forever. But we also have perhaps the most memorable decade of popular entertainment ever. Must be a coincidence.

1982

Conan the Barbarian and are released. An important psychological discovery opens the door to more than a decade of cinematic glory: possessing an intense desire to watch hulking muscle men fondle enormous, penetrative weapons proves how heterosexual you are. 1984

Missing in Action is released, establishing Chuck Norris as a reliable ’80s Action star. Americans begin to convince themselves that we could have won in Vietnam and eliminated the threat posed to the United States by lightly armed peasants thousands of miles away. The only thing that stopped us was some college kids holding signs back home. and Stallone begin scripting : First Blood Part II, adding to the body of films in which ―we‖ go back to ‗Nam and finally stand up to Vietnamese aggression, making the world safe for democracy.

1985

After finishing at the top of his class, earning an M.A. in chemical engineering, a then-unknown is living with supermodel Grace Jones in her apartment. Apparently tired of partying with Andy Warhol‘s clique, he is hanging around the set of A View to a Kill with Jones, who suggests he try out for a part in the movie. And with that, Dolph becomes a movie star simply by choosing to do so on the spur of the moment. Yes, that‘s all true. How‘s your life going? 1985-’87

Reagan‘s second term brought a golden shower of ’80s Action hits. Films released during these years include Rambo: First Blood Part II, Raw Deal, Sonja, Invasion U.S.A., , Robocop, Over the Top, Commando, Cobra and . Of these, only Robocop exhibits any trace of reflection or humanitarianism. Faster America, Kill Kill.

1988

Steven Seagal squeaks into the ‘80s, debuting in Above the Law. Seagal contributes two important additions with his approach to action movies: 1) He uses a more personal and brutal style of violence. Rather than limiting himself to shooting or blowing up henchman, he audibly snaps their bones, punches their kidneys and gouges their eyes. When he gets to the head villains, he often treats the audience to prolonged scenes of torture and mutilation. 2) He brings his own brand of social awareness. Yes, he goes after drug dealers. But he also goes after corporate polluters, crooked CIA agents and dirty cops. Many fans suspect Seagal of enlightenment, but years later we learn that he exists in a dense fog of self-aggrandizing delusion. 1988-’89

The great surge of ’80s Action begins to lose its momentum, bogged down by increasing numbers of non- Americans and an influx of unwanted intellect. Jean Claude Van Damme debuts in Bloodsport. releases as a reaction to eight years of Reaganism. George Bush Senior, the wimpy WWII combat pilot, replaces our courageous B-movie actor. Earnest ‘80s Action films begin to decline. See Red Heat.

1990-’93

Gulf I breaks out. The spectacular violence is conveyed to an increasingly squeamish public only through sanitized, video game-like imagery. You can hardly tell that hundreds of thousands of people are killed for the glorious cause of... well, whatever it is, it doesn‘t sound as good as fighting Communism. ’80s Action sequels become derivative of earlier, crappy derivative sequels Rocky V, V, The Last Action and Abs of Steel represent the death throes of a once dominant . A rube named ―Bubba‖ who openly enjoys sex with women is elected President of the United States. 1994

Pulp Fiction hits theaters. It is grunge to ’80s Action‘s hair metal. Tarantino offers up enough noise, violence, homoeroticism, suspense and quick dialogue to satisfy any action fan. But he does so from a posture of detachment and conspicuous intelligence. It will be hard to ever go back to spitting popcorn as you yell at the screen for more terrorists to be killed, but we will try.

1996

Will Smith, who brought us rap music free of violence and misogyny, now brings us an free of jingoistic hatred and inadequacy-driven . Lucas started it, but perhaps Independence Day is the point of no return. From now on, the most popular action films will be family-friendly, computer-generated semi-cartoons in which the bad guys are often not even human. What is the point of violence when it isn‘t even used against your fellow man? 1998

Out of the hundreds of directors to mindlessly ape Tarantino, Guy Ritchie is the most successful. For this transgression, he suffers a fate that draws the sympathy of even his staunchest detractors when he is married to Madonna. The silver lining of the whole tragedy is that he introduces the world to in Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels. It remains the case that the top-grossing action movies feature mincing dandies in cartoon robot suits, and it will likely be so forever. But Statham develops a loyal following on the premise that action stars should shoot, run, punch and kick; and that you should at least be able to imagine them winning a fight against your 11th grade English teacher.

2000

Charlie’s Angels is released. The film succeeds where earlier efforts, such as Red Sonja, failed: advancing the absurd proposition that we would prefer hot women to chiseled hunks of beefcake in action movies. This leads to Tomb Raider and, eventually, a few creepy movies starring 12-year-old girls. Granted, Charlie’s Angels has one sequel, while its cohort, The Fast and the Furious (with Paul Walker and ) has 19, but the Fast movies are about cars instead of guns, which is stupid. 2001

Terrorists attack New York, D.C. and Pennsylvania, killing nearly 3,000 innocent victims. Schwarzenegger, Stallone and Chuck Norris fail to prevent the attack, spawning many conspiracy theories about how, as with Vietnam, we chose to lose. The Patriot Act is signed into law and mass becomes the norm. Renegade cops who play by their own rules are now playing it by the book. From now on, stupid chiefs will only be able to demand the badge and gun of officers who tell the public what the authorities are really up to.

2003

Arnold is the second cast member of Predator to become a governor. During the campaign, he delivers what could be his last, great Pre-Mortem One-Liner to his rival, Arianna Huffington: ―I have a perfect part for you in 4.‖ It is the only thing Arnold says during the entire campaign other than ―I will say ‗hasta la vista, baby‘… to high taxes!‖ Or ―Remember when I said I‘d kill high taxes last? I lied.‖ And ―I will terminate high taxes!‖ It‘s all moot, though, for governors solve problems with pens, not bulging biceps and automatic weapons. Another version of ―California Über Alles‖ is inspired. The ’80s Action Revival: 2006-???

Judge , Robocop and Roadhouse are either remade or in production. They even do a Red Dawn remake, despite the fact that there are no longer any Reds. It‘s uncertain how the film dealt with this problem, because nobody has seen it. The remakes don‘t do much at the box office, but Hollywood keeps making them because Disney has snuck through legislation making original stories and characters illegal. The only good (non-Sly) ’80s Action franchise revival is Punisher: War Zone, which is awesome, but also unprofitable.

Stallone offers ’80s Action: not hope of rebirth so much as happy golden years. Final installments of Rocky and Rambo are good and make money. He assembles the whole gang for one last romp in his Expendables series. It‘s tough to get them all together. "I talked to Van Damme. I talked to Seagal. I even talked to Chuck Norris." Stallone says, of the first film. "But there are certain considerations, like insanity." Still, by , Stallone is delivering as much as he can in an effort to give the world a farewell gift from ’80s Action. Chapter 1: If it bleeds, we can kill it.

PREDATOR By John Gautreaux

Tagline: If it bleeds, we can kill it

Entire Story In Fewer Words Than Are In This Sentence: Misfit mercs battle Vladimir Putin's spirit animal

Homoeroticism: The meter tops out when (a badass mercenary) and Carl Weathers (a spook, not in the racist way but in the CIA way) celebrate their reunion by having a stand-up arm wrestling match while gazing into each other‘s eyes. The only thing that could have made this scene gayer is if they were both dressed like eight-year-olds going to church. Oh wait, they were.

Another great scene is when Billy finds a meaty phallic vine and starts sucking some juice out of it. He gets distracted (probably by an even longer, thicker vine), so it falls out of his mouth and creamy liquid drips all over his army costume.

Bill Duke and Jesse Ventura also have a special man-bond. Their souls are fashioned together by some sort of sweat/semen mortar mix. Duke spends a lot of time talking to Jesse's corpse. It's uncomfortable.

For a movie about professional soldiers, nobody really ever aims. Almost all guns were fired from the hip/crotch area, making them a true extension of the penis. A half dozen roided up men in makeup blasting their dick-guns into the jungle, what's better than that?!

Corpse Count: About four score and one

How Bad Is It Really? It's one of the greatest action movies of all time. The plot, setting, pacing, and dialogue are all top notch. The action scenes are very realistic and the suspense is right up there with any horror movie. It's one of my favorite films of all time, so if there is anything wrong with it, I don't see it. I guess it could have used a shot of some big floppy titties. The consolation prize is that we do get some side- boob from the rustic jungle babe who decides to run around without a bra.

Best One-Liners: This movie has been a goldmine of quotable quotes that I use in everyday situations. For instance:

―I ain‘t got time to bleed!‖ - For anything from a paper-cut to an open wound.

―Get to the chopper!‖ - Is what I yell after a priest asks if anyone objects to this marriage.

―Time to take old Painless out the bag.‖ - When unzipping in a public restroom

―So you cooked up a story and dropped the six of us in the meat grinder!‖ - After some sales rep gives me a bullshit reason for raising my cable/phone/insurance rates.

―There's something out there waiting for us, and it ain‘t no man.‖ - Is what I tell any woman when she wakes me up because she heard a noise.

Post-Mortem One-Liner: Arnold throws a knife through some rebel's chest and politely tells him to ―stick around.‖ Right after that, he says ―Knock knock!‖ after kicking down a door and shooting a grenade into some fool's breadbasket. The Predator himself could have had some great ones too if his English was a little better. After he shot a ball of blue fire through Jesse Ventura's MTV shirt, he could have said, ―VH1 for life!‖

Stupid Political Content: There was something about Russian military advisers, who advise the Russian military I guess. Also they mention cabinet ministers, who probably just minister to cabinets because cabinets need a good sermon every once in a while. I honestly have no idea. I don't think they even say what country they were in. I just know the natives spoke Spanish, so it was probably somewhere that we had no business being in. With an elite commando unit that has two future governors in it, you'd think at least one of them would have had the sense to know better.

Novelty Death: Carl Weathers getting his arm shot off was probably the coolest thing. The arm falls to the ground with the finger still wrapped around the trigger of his gun as it continues shooting. Then, he's impaled upon Predator's knife hand and lifted off the ground while he extends his one last arm to the heavens like some grotesque Statue of Liberty. Give me your sweaty, your bloody, your huddled-homoerotic mercenaries on the run from an intergalactic sociopath.

What You Learned: Predator lives by a pretty rugged code. If he were anything like today's human hunters, he would have staged a fake wet t-shirt contest and hid in a bush with a six pack and plasma cannon after spraying himself with frat boy piss. That's not how the Predator rolls: He finds the biggest, baddest most dangerous men and kills them off one by one until the last one left becomes a cowering, disjointed lunatic who embraces death. That's pretty much what happens in every movie, except that time a Predator teamed up with some babe in Antarctica to destroy a giant mama alien. Those were extenuating circumstances.

Predator is kind of a bizarro Goonies. A group of friends are stuck in a savage environment trying to find their way out. Both movies have tons of booby traps. Both have a cool novelty corpse (Chester Copperpot and Jim Hopper). Each movie features a big, lovable retard (Sloth and Jesse Ventura). And I can't help but note that at the end of Goonies, a Latin maid finds wealth in a little sack. It's no coincidence that Arnold's Latin maid also finds wealth in his little sack decades later. There are just too many similarities. What You Didn't Learn: What the hell is Predator anyway? I mean, his name isn't even Predator. It could be Pete or something. What if Predator Pete went back to his home planet and made a movie about a human and named it Wus, and then all the Predators just called every human they saw Wus. We wouldn't like that too much would we?

Plus, I'm pretty sure every Predator isn't a super badass. Plasma guns and space travel aren't cheap. There has to be a Predatorstein who spends all day crunching numbers and balancing books for the company that makes the spaceships. You can't tell me the same blood-thirsty psycho who is down here on Earth collecting skulls and impaling Carl Weathers built his own fucking rocket. I doubt it, not that suicidal, tree-swinging redneck monster. The race of Predators is probably just as diverse and complicated as our own. I mean, there are probably pro-life Predators, fat Predators, assistant manager Predators, hoarder Predators, 9/11 Truther-Predators. The list goes on and on. Let's not sum up the entire species because of the few insecure, macho aliens who come down to earth to get their rocks off tormenting our action stars.

There are also a few other glaring questions that pop out after first watching Predator. Such as:

Is Predator supposed to be black or something? Nope! At least not in the way Warf from was an analogy for being African American in the White Man's World. Now the guy who dresses up as Predator is a black dude named Kevin Peter Hall, so technically the Predator is black, but it's not like he struggles with catching a cab or anything. Most people want to characterize the Predator as black because he has dreads, is athletic, and scares white people, but he also hunts for sport and takes third world vacations. Plus, Predator doesn't give a fuck about color. He literally can't see skin color. It's safe to say that Predator isn't supposed to represent any particular race.

What Does The Predator Do On His Downtime? I have no idea. He probably spends half his life just sitting around in a tree waiting for some hapless moron to pick up a gun. Maybe he plays Candy Crush on his phone or trolls Ted Nugent on Twitter.

What Does Predator's Dick Look Like? It's probably a smokey green color with two heads. I'm guessing it's on the small side too, which explains why he needs to kill us inferior humans to feel like a big man. Wait, can Predators read? I changed my mind. In case any Predators are reading this, I bet they have big ol alien dicks, the biggest in the universe. EXPENDABLE ASSETS: RANKING THE PREDATOR B-SQUAD By Sarah Rhodes

I spend a lot of time thinking about the movie Predator. Probably an unhealthy amount of time. You see, Predator is one of my all-time favorite movies. No, it isn‘t cerebral. Or funny. Or beloved by critics. But damn it, I love it.

How much, you ask? Well, I‘ve often told people that if I could, I‘d write a graduate-level thesis about it. What, that doesn‘t sound crazy enough for you? Here: enjoy a sample of text messages that I sent (to just one person) while in the midst of a Predator-driven panic:

You see what I mean? We‘re talking about a movie that came out 26 years ago, that I‘ve seen well over 100 times, and I sound like a lunatic.

A few nights ago, I stayed up very late and for some reason and I started thinking about the secondary characters in Predator. You know, the entire team of elite special forces whose members die, one by one, leaving Dutch to hog the alien-killing glory for himself. Did these guys even need to be there? I mean, Dutch mortally wounded Predator with a tree. A tree that he himself hoisted into the air, with only his giant muscles to help him. Thanks for nothing, B-Squad!

Still, while they were alive and not helping to kill Predator, the members of the elite special forces b- squad had to have contributed something to the mission. And this is when I convinced myself that I had to rank the Predator Also-Rans, in order from Worthless Garbage to Unsung Hero. Let‘s do this.

Note: I found the link to the original 1986 script for Predator (then called Hunter) and it is actually a hilarious read, if you have the time. Thank you, writers Jim Thomas and John Thomas, for offering such…interesting character descriptions, which I will be using below. OFFICIAL RANKINGS:

6. RICK HAWKINS (Shane Black) Character description from the script: "The radioman and medic, Irish, street-tough, reading a rolled-up magazine, as if he were a rush hour commuter."

Ok. I don‘t know if you took a good look at the picture of Hawkins reading his rolled-up ―Sgt. Rock‖ magazine/comic book, but nothing - and I mean nothing - about him looks street tough. And he was a medic??!? I seriously didn‘t know that until I read the script. Good job doing your medic duties, Dork Who Never Helped Anyone Because He Died So Early.

PROS: 1. Despite being built like a piece of saltwater taffy, Hawkins did a pretty good job of lugging around a 60-pound radio. 2. Glasses so big he could see through time. 3. His early death allowed him to get busy writing . Really! CONS: 1. Obviously, he was the King of the Doofs. 2. Having glasses that big only means one thing: weak peripheral vision. He never saw Predator coming. 3. Absolutely the worst comedian ever. Predator should have killed him twice, once for each terrible joke. Check out the original joke in the script - it was about squirrels, and Billy liked it. And speaking of Billy…

5. BILLY SOLE (Sonny Landham) Character description from the script: "The Kit Carson Scout, an American Indian, proud, stoic, a man of quiet strength and simplicity."

PROS: 1. A great laugher. Really tremendous. In fact, his laugh was so great, that Predator stole it for his act. 2. I realize Billy is an American Indian and scout, but let‘s get real here. Billy is exactly like every mystical Dead Head I‘ve ever been friends with. He‘s a hippie. A hippie with a great laugh. 3. Because of Billy‘s mystical scouting abilities, he‘s able to sense invisible danger, like when a dog growls at a ghost in the corner of your living room. CONS: 1. Much like the aforementioned Ghost-Barking Dog, Billy gets spooked at everything. A leaf could float by on the breeze and Old Billy would have to change his shorts. 2. Billy carries a worthless pouch of hippie dust and pebbles that would only be effective if he were trying to make Predator sneeze or lose a contact lens. And even then - he‘d have to get super close and have excellent aim. But none of that happened because… 3. Billy is a quitter. Spare me your noble, ―I‘m not running anymore‖ bullshit, homey. You quit on Dutch and then you didn‘t even have the decency to die on camera. Punk.

4. BLAIN COOPER (Jesse The Body/Former Governor of Minnesota Ventura) Character description from the script: "Weapons and ordnance specialist, a frightening bull of a man, a 240-pound killer."

PROS: 1. He carries an enormous gun. 2. He doesn‘t have time to bleed. 3. He‘s always ready with a folksy saying like, ―Dug in like an Alabama tick,‖ or, ―This stuff will make you a goddamn sexual tyrannosaurus.‖ Oh, Blain. You hyper-masculine, corn-fed hillbilly. CONS: 1. He‘s a hyper-masculine, corn-fed hillbilly. 2. Chewing tobacco, while it might make you a goddamn sexual tyrannosaurus, is gross. 3. Good thing you did all that weight-lifting, Blain. Your enormous barrel chest is worthless against space lasers.

3. GEORGE DILLON (Carl Weathers) Character description from the script: "Mid-thirties, black….Although as rugged looking as the others, his bearing and grooming indicate he‘s been away from the business of soldiering for some time. His quick intelligent eyes reveal his current profession."

Oh, I‘m sorry, Messrs. Thomas - I didn‘t know that simply by gazing into someone‘s ―quick, intelligent eyes,‖ I could immediately know their profession. When I think ―quick, intelligent eyes,‖ I think owl, not CIA operative.

PROS: 1. Dillon is great at keeping secrets. He keeps them in his mustache. 2. Did you see his mustache? 3. Pushing pencils in the CIA gave him absolutely enormous biceps.

CONS: 1. Giant biceps are useless against alien weaponry, as we learned when Dillon‘s arm got blown off from about a half-mile away. 2. Secrets, secrets are no fun. Secrets, secrets hurt someone. And in this case, that someone was the elite special forces unit who would have lived, had it not been for Dillon‘s impressive secret-keeping skills. 3. They gave him two guns, and he failed twice as hard.

2. SGT. MAC ELIOT (Bill Duke) Character description from the script: "A huge bear of a man, black.‖ I shit you not. That is the description that Thomas & Thomas gave to Mac, one of the most badass characters in this movie. Thank god for Bill Duke.

PROS: 1. He‘s Bill Duke, goddamn it. If that means nothing to you, then get out of my life. 2. He‘s one hell of a singer, even under duress. 3. He deserves an award for special achievement in whispering.

CONS: 1. He‘s terrible at shaving. Good lord, Mac! That beautiful face deserves to be treated with respect. Take your anger out on something else like, oh I don‘t know, a pig or something. 2. He murders an innocent pig. There you go, buddy! Doesn‘t that feel better than breaking razors on your face? Of course, that pig did nothing to deserve getting hacked to death, but it happens. War is hell, man. 3. Like everyone in this movie, Mac can‘t hit the broad side of a barn with his gun, your gun, or Blain‘s mini-gun.

1. JORGE “PONCHO” RAMIREZ (Richard Chaves) Character description from the script: "A slight, angular man, an East L.A. streetwise Chicano.‖ That‘s right, bitches. Poncho is the most valuable member of the Elite Special Forces Unit that accomplishes nothing, but whose deaths enable Dutch to plan his attack on Predator. Perhaps you disagree with my assessment of lovable, wonderful Poncho, but hear me out.

PROS: 1. He‘s small, but mighty. 2. He‘s bilingual, which is helpful considering that they were dropped in a Spanish-speaking country. 3. Unlike these other pussies, Poncho‘s head didn‘t explode when it was zapped by Predator‘s space laser. 4. Despite being crushed by a swinging tree, which shattered his ribs and liquefied his organs, Poncho tried like hell to get to da choppah, and was even carrying a gun up until the very end.

CONS: 1. About that tree. You know, the one that Poncho saw his buddies hang in the air mere hours before it pulverized him? How, exactly, do you forget that? Come on, Poncho. A man‘s gotta learn how to duck:

SEE? SEE HOW SIMPLE IT IS, PONCHO?

HONORABLE MENTION: ANNA (Elpidia Carrillo)

Character description from the script: "Dark, late twenties. Despite her blood and dirt-smeared face, she is beautiful." That‘s right, ladies. Thomas and Thomas aren‘t afraid of a little blood and dirt on your pretty face. Oooooooh yeeeaaaah.

PROS: 1. She is a wannabe badass. The script says she‘s a guerilla, though, so I guess that makes her an actual badass. 2. She is a sassy, no-nonsense kind of gal. She will hit you in the face with a branch, attempt to pick up a machine gun, and still be fabulous. 3. She is literally the only smart person in the group. Yes, I know Dutch defeats Predator on his own, using some advanced Boy Scout techniques, but let‘s give Anna some credit for telling the elite special forces about the ―Demon who makes trophies of men.‖ Oh, and she was the one who noticed that Predator did, in fact, bleed. And you know what that means.

CONAN THE BARBARIAN By Mike McGowan

Tagline: Thief Warrior Gladiator King

Entire Story In Fewer Words Than Are In This Sentence: Frank Couzo gives up karate, coaches murderous cult instead For the love of god, don‘t behead Conan‘s mom!

Homoeroticism: Pronounced at times but we can rest assured that Conan is mostly straight. I say mostly because on his travels he beds a smoking hot sorceress and seems very distracted and reluctant while fucking her. As she approaches orgasm Conan hurls her into the fireplace where she explodes. To be fair, she was pretty chatty. Early in the film, Conan is forced onto the pit fighting circuit where men in codpieces stare at each other for long periods of time before wrestling to death in a frenzy of blood and lube.

The overt gayness mainly revolves around Thulsa Doom‘s (James-Earl Jones) cannibalistic Snake Cult, enforced by Lemmy Kilmister and a yoked up Bruce Dickinson. Let‘s be serious here, this cult is big time into leather and bangs. Everyone‘s got bangs. Hell, even James-Earl Jones has bangs! They raid Conan‘s village and curiously no women are raped; the marauders only appear to be interested in confiscating swords and little boys. Though later in the film we see members of the cult engage in a coed orgy so there‘s clearly some confusion. Additionally there‘s plenty of female nudity thrown in to keep the viewer flaccid, or at least wondering. Worth noting is a scene where the high priest, rather than screwing her, sacrifices a perfectly good half-naked virgin to a gigantic snake. That‘s kinda gay. Corpse Count? Tough to keep track of but bloody satisfying! A majority of the bodies accumulate in four major sequences and all but a few folks meet their end by virtue of the blade. I watched this with a female (infuriating) and she notched off 66 killings while I wound up with 74. It‘s possible her little lady brain thoughts may have muddled my experience but I‘m sticking by my count. She also kept referring to everyone‘s gauntlets as bracelets! Ugh!

How Bad Is It Really? How bad is it really?How dare you?? This movie rules. It‘s proper 80s action wrapped tightly in a loin cloth. Conan The Barbarian delivers the goods that matter most—our hero slays dozens of people with help from a male sidekick (oddly in the form of a Mongolian archer who is, in fact, a Mexican), beefcake stretches for miles across the countryside, and the female love interest is murdered. The sets are authentic and Arnold sputters through so few lines that one hardly notices how bad the acting is amid all the carnage. Moreover, Basil Poledouris‘ enduring score detracts from the revenge plot predictability.

On that note the story isn‘t too excruciating. Sure, Conan‘s parents are killed by Thulsa Doom and he grows up to butcher just about everyone and everything in his way, vultures and snakes included, for redemption. What more do you need? At one point Conan is crucified on the ―Tree of Woe‖ and made to contemplate the riddle of steel, which turns out to be a bunch of poppycock. He dies and is brought back to life by a Chinaman.

One Liner:

Conan says ―CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHM‖ to basically everything he doesn‘t understand. Really the best one-liner arrives when Conan and Subotai are stumbling drunk through a village. Subotai decides to grope some streetwalkers and Conan, uninterested, yells ―They‘re all SLAHTS!‖ right before punching a camel in the face. Camel-punching aside, did the word slut even exist in this time period? Surely floozy or strumpet would have been more appropriate. I mean Conan may as well have called them all hoodrats. ―OODRAAHTS!‖ Stupid Political Content: Self proclaimed anarchist and right wing blowhard John Milius keeps things relatively apolitical. Fun fact, Milius is so fucking crazy that he intended to score the film with pop music. Can you imagine the montage of Valeria and Conan partying and having sex accompanied by Michael Jackson‘s ―Don‘t Stop ‗til You Get Enough‖? Holy hell thankfully Poldouris was on the set to squash that lunacy. Now that I think about it, maybe it would‘ve been awesome. I‘m picturing the orgy massacre with Blondie‘s ―Dreaming‖ echoing through the caverns.

Anyhow most of the politics are intertwined with the cult and its religious war against the state. King Osric‘s rule is being threatened by Thulsa and his followers, the children of doom, an array of hippies, homos, cannibal warriors, and the mentally infirm. Down from their mountain of power, the cult has spread through the kingdom and enslaved Osric‘s daughter. Enter Conan, the great agitator, loyal to neither church nor state, but oiled up and hell bent on taking Thulsa to the cleaners.

Novelty Death There are loads of outstanding novelty deaths but Thorgrim‘s impalement is highlight reel material because it doesn‘t kill him right away and it squirts a nice blood spatter on the camera lens.

Was There An Atomic Blast At The End? No but Conan discus throws a massive firepot at the snake cult‘s main office setting the entire structure ablaze thereby displacing thousands of hippies.

What You Learned: It‘s somehow not at all challenging to keep up cult numbers when cannibalism and suicide are strongly encouraged. Bitches be crazy so put your trust in the sword. Oh, and John Milius served as the ‗spiritual advisor‘ on Lone Wolf McQuade. What?

HARD TO KILL By Erich Schulte

Tagline He‘s LA detective, Mason . Three hired assassins left him for dead. And he‘s waited seven years to even the score.

Entire Story In Fewer Words Than Are In This Sentence: Seagal wakes from a coma to avenge his family.

Homoeroticism: The rise of Seagal represents a flaccid period for 80s Action. There are still vestiges of the Old Way. For example, when Seagal‘s wife attempts to befoul him, gunmen mow down the fetid temptress. These strands of gayness are more than offset by the fact that Seagal kisses two different women in the film and grabs both of their asses. That‘s two more women than Arnold has kissed in his entire career, and the ass grabbing is an unprecedented shame in 80s Action. Finally, in a seminal scene symbolizing the emergence of the American male from a decade of crypto-gayness, Seagal wakes from a seven-year coma immediately after the hot female nurse compliments him on the size of his penis. cries tears from heaven whenever this scene airs.

Corpse Count: By a strict measure, only 17. But remember, Seagal is more inclined to administer horrible beatings than pull a trigger, so the survival of his victims is often an open question. If a 6‘4‖ world class expert hits you as hard as he can on the top of the head with the butt of a pool cue, are you dead? Probably, but that‘s not good enough for the Corpse Count because maybe you just ended up in a bed parked in your parents‘ living room, sucking their retirement away through your feeding tube. Just rest assured that this is an adequately violent film. Seagal offers several of his trademark limb snaps, which I find far more satisfying than some run-of-the-mill shooting.

Novelty Death: It‘s tough to pick only one, but I will. When Seagal gets his hands on the second highest bad guy he breaks the guy‘s arm in half at the elbow and then grabs his throat. Rather than simply strangling the man, Seagal crushes his trachea with the fury of my uncle Lou crushing a Pringles can when a black quarterback throws a touchdown against The Bears.

Pre-Mortem One-Liner: An absolute howler. Seagal realizes that a corrupt politician is the architect of his wife‘s murder after recognizing the Senator‘s catchphrase on a TV commercial: ―You can take that to the bank.‖

Seagal says, ―I‘m going to take you to the bank, Senator Trent. The blood bank.‖ This was the moment many of us first knew true love.

Stupid Political Content: This is another area in which the rise of Seagal equals the decline of the 80s Action archetype. Once again, he seems more concerned with stamping out quasi-fascist elements in society, such as power mongering right-wing politicians and crooked cops, than with promoting fascism himself. Ann Coulter would call him a traitor. Then he would put her in an arm lock and snap her radius and ulna like Twix.

How Bad Is It Really? Fairly bad by regular movie standards, but historically great when viewed in the proper context. Cheese abounds, as when Kelly LeBrock walks up to Seagal‘s character, Mason Storm, who is training for revenge. He punches a board really hard and there‘s a cut away to her standing in the wind. She softly says, ―Mason Storm,‖ shaking her head in awe. Very funny. Equally funny is a scene in which a hospitalized Seagal is wheeling his gurney away from a bad guy. Seagal makes it into an elevator and, instead of shooting as the doors close, the bad guy just waves his gun and says, ―I‘ll get you Storm!!‖ because a force field goes up once you enter a movie elevator.

What You Learned Kelly LeBrock is way hotter than I remembered her being. Bullets cannot hit you if you are either lying down or in a convertible. Security at The L.A. Coma Center is terrible.

FIVE LIFE LESSONS FROM THE 80’S ACTION HEROES

We call the men of 80‘s Action movies heroes. And it is true: these are the greatest men of the 20th century. But are they great just because they kill a lot of punks? I would argue that they provide templates of masculine virtue. We look at them and wish we could be more like them and not just in terms of muscles and ass kicking. These guys are stoic, independent and ruthlessly effective when they decide to take action. Surely they must have something to teach us.

Don’t admire your work. When an 80‘s action star sets off a big explosion, what does he do? Stand there in awe of his accomplishment? Nope, he calmly walks away, not even looking at the glorious blast behind him. He is already thinking about his next move. This is the best approach to all of your endeavors. To get good at Bejeweled, you start looking for your next move the second you complete one. Great football coaches get their teams to forget last week and focus on the next game. Successful politicians are planning to steal the next election as soon as they‘ve nabbed the last one. Your accomplishments and failures are of the past. Focus your thoughts and efforts on the next challenge.

Avoid conflict. Mike Ditka said, ―success is measured by your discipline and inner peace.‖ The 80s is content to chop wood and live in his log cabin or to be a humble navy chef. For him, greatness does not come through dominating others, but by realizing his own potential. He never seeks out conflict or violence to measure himself. He is, however, ready for it because he has invested his time and energy in discipline and becoming the best version of himself possible.

If conflict is foisted upon you, win. Sometimes people are going to kidnap your daughter, murder your partner or hijack an office building full of innocent people. That‘s just a part of life. Once they force the fight, take off the gloves. Or better yet, load them. Save your compassion and sense of fair play for POWs and hostages. If some guy has decided he wants to terrorize civilians, don‘t have any qualms about throwing him off a building, burning him alive or stuffing a grenade in his mouth, pulling the pin out and walking away. Likewise, if someone is just determined to hit you with a bogus lawsuit, screw you at work or let his dog crap on your front lawn, go after him without restraint. He started it, you finish it.

Keep adequate resources at your disposal. The 80s Action hero cares not for material things and generally leads a humble existence in that regard. But he usually has access to a good amount of cash if he needs it. And he maintains an $800,000 arsenal of military hardware. If the United States is ever invaded by Cuba, what good will your expensive watch and fancy shag carpeting be? Meanwhile a real hero has a spare room with rocket launchers, grenades and two dozen assault rifles, just in case. This is a metaphor for having a year‘s living expenses in the bank and not using credit cards too much.

Think a step ahead. The bad guy is not usually hard to figure out. Whether he is a drug lord or a terrible boss, he will be motivated by greed, hatred, lust for power or something along those lines and that motivation will govern his every decision. He‘ll be short sighted and predictable. That‘s why he sprays bullets through your house at eye level, never thinking you might hide in the rafters. So anticipate his next move and be ready to nullify it. Plan your countermove. Think about long term objectives while others react in the heat of the moment.

Just like chess or poker, but with an M-60. Chapter 2: Yuppies, Penguins and Commies.

SUDDEN DEATH by Michael Behrens

Tagline:

Terror Goes Into Overtime.

Entire Story In Fewer Words Than Are In This Sentence: at the Stanley Cup Finals.

Homoeroticism: Minimal. Jean-Claude is divorced, but it appears that the divorce was due to depression following his inability to save a young girl from a building fire. He got busted down from fireman to stadium fire marshal in the aftermath. He is on good terms with his wife's new husband and his kids, even if his son thinks he's a loser. It's the story of our lives, really. What I'm trying to say is that Jean-Claude does not show his bare ass at any point in this movie. I was as disappointed as all of you reading this are right now.

Powers Boothe plays the bargain basement Hans Gruber ripoff, and he smokes cigarettes and sips wine with an effete air. However, his sexuality is never really questioned or even brought up in this movie, as it is buried underneath the pure masculine virility of Powers Boothe. As we all know, it's not gay if Powers Boothe sodomizes you; if anything, it's an honor. He dons a 70's era gay mustache and wig during the finale, but it just makes him more straight, even as you fantasize about him taking you from behind. I think I'll stop talking now.

Corpse Count:

29 confirmed kills, with a couple possible ones not counted. A helicopter is blown up with a bazooka at one point, but it was impossible for me to get a count of the men inside. My inability to provide you with this information is not the fault of poor direction; no, I take full responsibility for this. It shall haunt me to the end of my days.

How Bad Is It Really? Some may question the validity of reviewing a film released during Clinton's first term in the 80's Action Guide, but Sudden Death, along with 2: Dark Territory, is really one of the last 80's Action films. Van Damme and Seagal arrived late to the 80's Action party, and thus their final entries in the genre stretched all the way to the Oklahoma City Bombing. I'm not blaming Sudden Death for that national tragedy or anything, but I'm not sure it helped matters.

Now, while this might not be the best Die Hard ripoff, it is definitely one of the funniest. The fight between Van Damme and a henchwoman wearing a penguin mascot outfit must be seen to be believed. It's scenes like this that make me glad to be alive. The entire fight takes place in a kitchen, and there's a great moment where Jean-Claude takes a jar of red peppercorns and shoves it in the penguin's mouth, showering the henchwomen's face with spice. Really, though, just seeing Jean- Claude jump kick a sports mascot in the face is life-affirming. Why can't every movie feature scenes like this? Why did Braveheart win the Oscar for this year again?

There's also some great stuff at the end, where Powers Boothe attempts to escape in a helicopter. Jean-Claude fires a machine gun at it and kills everyone inside except for Boothe. In the aftermath, the helicopter tilts backwards and begins a vertical descent while pointing upwards. It falls straight down through an opening in the roof of the stadium, maybe ten feet from Jean-Claude, and takes about 25 seconds to fall from the roof to the ice. Powers Boothe screams for the whole 25 seconds, by the way. The helicopter explodes, and we're at the closing credits within 40 seconds. They never tell us who won the hockey game, though. My life is just one disappointment after another. So I'd say this movie is pretty awesome, but there was a part towards the end where the bomb squad guy from Die Hard With a Vengeance is playing Doom and the shotgun sound effects are incorrect. Foul, incorrect video game sound effects, go sit in the time out corner. Or the penalty box. Or whatever it's called. Did I mention that it took me almost half the movie to remember that "Sudden Death" is a hockey term? At least I figured it out before it became a plot point. This is what all those years in college have given me.

Post-Mortem One-Liner: This is the last gasp of 80's Action, and it goes out not with a bang, but with a whimper. Jean-Claude just looks bored and tired as he murders his fellow human beings. I kept thinking of that classic moment in where Butterman asks Angel if he said "Cool off" after knocking a bad guy into a freezer. Shame, indeed.

Stupid Political Content: Seeing as this movie was released in the Clinton era, it's fairly tame on this front. Powers Boothe's character makes vague references to CIA agents being cast out following the end of the Cold War, but this is pretty minor stuff. The plot involves a hostage situation at the Stanley Cup Finals, wherein the Vice President is held at gunpoint until the U.S. Government disperses $1.7 billion from various frozen accounts. Apparently, Boothe's character wants the money because he doesn't make enough at the CIA, or wherever he hails from. At one point, he fires off a line about the dire state of the economy, even though this movie was released in the mid-90's. I guess Clinton wasn't slashing welfare fast enough for him. Then again, maybe he voted for Perot and NAFTA's giant sucking sound just would not stop echoing in his mind. Oh, the plight of the white man in the politically correct 90's.

Oh yeah, there's a part where Jean-Claude poses as the goalie to evade detection by gun-toting bad guys. He even makes a pivotal save, in Game 7 of the Finals no less! Immigrants really are taking our jobs. I'm moving to Belgium and getting a job as an action star. It's going to be awesome.

Novelty Death:

I was going to cite the hilarious moment where Van Damme uses a lighter and a miniature Super Soaker filled with some type of flammable liquid to light a man on fire, but the gentleman returns shortly afterward and must be beaten down one final time. I guess it's not a novelty death if the guy doesn't die from it, no matter how much it made me laugh.

So I guess the winner is either the guy who gets stabbed in the neck with a broken-off chicken bone, or the henchwoman in the penguin mascot outfit who is strangled by the strap on her penguin head as she is pulled through some type of commercial kitchen machine. I report, you decide.

Was There An Atomic Blast At The End? No, but a helicopter explodes, along with Van Damme's career. It's just a depressing film all around.

What You Learned Fire marshals change light bulbs and embarrass their children.

Zambonis are so easy to drive that they can be operated by a corpse.

You have to stand up and put your hand over your heart during the national anthem. If you look annoyed by this in any way, you're a terrorist.

If a hockey game is tied at the end of the third period, it goes into SUDDEN DEATH.

The laws of Newtonian physics don't apply when Jean-Claude Van Damme is involved.

Powers Boothe rules.

ROCKY 3 By Matt Cale

Tagline: ―A Fighter. A Lover. A Legend. The Greatest Challenge.‖

Entire Story In Fewer Words Than Are In This Sentence: Rocky claims America back from sassy, more articulate Negro.

Homoeroticism: Let‘s face it, folks — Rocky and Apollo want to fuck. They always have. Here, in the third installment, they come as close as they ever would to breaking out the Astroglide. Their training montage is the action movie equivalent of a soft-core porno, complete with tight shorts, oiled chests, huffing and puffing, and macho taunts that would only pass muster in a San Francisco gym. The loving pair even embrace by the water. Men never spend this much time together unless fluids are being exchanged at a healthy rate. And how about that final freeze frame? We think we see fists, but clearly those are cocks flying, waiting to land with force in that sweet, sweet spot. And Christ Almighty, have you seen the DVD cover? Stallone is begging you to come inside his house of pleasure. And please, no ladies!

Corpse Count: Alas, only the beloved Mick takes a dive. How Bad Is It Really?

In many ways, this is the best of the series, if only because of Mr. T‘s undeniable charisma. When he taunts Mrs. Balboa about not being sexually satisfied, it‘s impossible not to smile. His remarks also serve the cause of homoeroticism, as it stands to reason that Rocky is unable to pleasure a female. It‘s a bit hard to take Apollo and Rocky as a team, but the film has the good sense to kill off the increasingly annoying old salt Burgess Meredith. For no apparent reason, though, Uncle Pauly survives all five films. And yes, the fight scenes are as unrealistic as ever, as these heavyweight champions have apparently risen to the top without learning the basic skill of defense.

Best One-Liner: Clubber Lang‘s ―No, I don‘t hate Balboa….I pity the fool,‖ of course. But I‘m tempted to honor the equally impressive Clubber retort, ―My prediction? Pain.‖

Post-Mortem One-Liner: ―Miiiiiiiiiicccckkkkkkk! Whysyssisuioaso! Sxfhsdfysdisdkjsdaui! Nooooooooooo!‖ — Rocky, immediately following Mickey‘s death at the hands of Clubber.

Stupid Political Content: When a ―champ‖ (read: white America) gets soft and complacent, he will get his ass kicked by a black man. As Rocky is the saga of the typical American underdog and his belief in hard work, it makes sense that when he lets his guard down, he will suffer pain, humiliation, and death. And is there anything more vile than a muscular, hyper-sexualized black man taunting an innocent white woman? Not in Reagan‘s America, motherfucker. And have you listened to Pauly‘s racist diatribes lately? He refers to the training tunes as ―jungle music‖ and African Americans as ―colored‖, and he shakes like a cracker in the cookie jar upon entering an all-black L.A. gym. As such, he‘s clearly meant to be the conscience of America, warning the once racially pure Rocky to stay away from the dark meat.

Novelty Death: With only one death, nothing too outrageous was allowed to occur, though if I‘m not mistaken, Mick was buried with his hearing aid. What You Learned:

A film with both Hulk Hogan and Mr. T can be pretty damn good. Or at least watchable.

THE RUNNING MAN

Tagline: A game nobody survives. But Schwarzenegger has yet to play.

Entire Story In Fewer Words Than Are In This Sentence: Muscleman battles evil cartoon characters on game show of death.

Corpse Count:

24, most of which come in the battles at the beginning and end of the film. The total is held down by the fact that the in game deaths are so elaborate and dramatic, which is a good thing. Novelty Death:

The Stalkers are the stars of the show, hunting down and killing the ―contestants.‖ One Stalker called Buzzsaw tries to chainsaw Arnold, who gains control of the weapon and runs it through his foe, starting with his nutsack, prompting Buzzsaw to sing a falsetto high note. Remember that whole period, the 80s and 90s I suppose, when movies and TV pretended that taking a shot to balls made your voice go up, usually in the form of song? This must have been an unwitting allusion to the castrati, pop stars of the 1720s and 30s. The twists and turns of popular culture can be pretty strange. Imagine how surprised you'd be if you woke up in 2254 and they were making One Direction jokes.

―What happened to Buzzsaw?‖ someone later asks Arnold. ―He had to split.‖

Stupid Political Content: A fascistic regime run by psychopaths presides over a population of a few self-absorbed ―haves‖ and a lot of hopeless ―have nots.‖ They pacify the populace with mind numbing entertainment that normalizes cruelty, narcissism, and alienation. The news is just propaganda. When someone within the government stands up to protect citizens, the media and government demonize him and subject him to cruel and unusual punishment. Can you imagine if any of this were true? That would stink.

Post-Mortem One-Liner: Arnold kills the ice hockey themed Asian stalker, Subzero, by strangling him with barbed wire and slicing open his neck. He then proclaims to the camera, ―Here is Subzero! Now, PLAIN zero!‖ In a less histrionic moment, Arnold says of his opponent, ―he was a real pain in the neck.‖ Homoeroticism:

There‘s an old rule of thumb in 80s Action: ―the farther to the right, the more pillows it bites.‖ Since The Running Man is more of a subversive film, there are no bathhouses, Freudian slips, or drag queen ―misunderstandings.‖ Instead, it‘s polluted with shots of Maria Conchita Alonso tied up while in negligee and running around in a tight fitting body suit. On the bright side, Arnold wears the same body suit and Jesse Ventura appears in pastel spandex.

How bad was it really? The Running Man touches on some meaningful themes, like how easily we allow ourselves to be sold on comic book stories of heroes and villains when doing so allows us to indulge our worst impulses. The enthralled masses receive catharsis from watching as the instruments of power build up a villain, then ritualistically strip him down, and then overpower and kill him. This quenches the masses‘ thirst for justice and allows real world oppression to continue. ―You want ratings? You want people in front of TV sets instead of in picket lines? Well you ain‘t gonna get that with reruns of Gilligan‘s Island,‖ Running Man host and creator Damon Killian explains to Justice Department officials. Luckily, all of the evil characters get their comeuppance so we can all return to our normal lives with our thirst for justice quenched.

The film feels flat at times, occasionally poorly thought out and lazy. But The Running Man is livened up by a great cast, including Jesse Ventura, Yafet Koto, Jim Brown, Maria Conchita Alonso, and Family Feud host Richard Dawson, who steals the show in one of the elite supporting roles in 80s Action, playing the soulless ring master. The fight scenes are ludicrous but great. When the studio audience was chanting catch phrases, I couldn‘t understand what they were saying.

What did you learn? Paula Abdul is credited with the choreography of the Running Man dance troupe. The guy who plays Subzero went by the moniker Professor Toru Tanaka. Like, that‘s his actual name on IMDB. As much as I enjoyed him in Match Game, Richard Dawson should have been in more movies.

Die Hard By Jeremy Derifield

Tagline: Twelve terrorists. One cop. The odds are against John McClane... That's just the way he likes it.

Entire Story in Fewer Words Than Are in This Sentence: Cop bummed he has to fight twelve terrorists alone.

Homoeroticism: Very little of note but some trusty ol' homophobia might have saved our hero significant distress later in the film. You see, on the incoming flight to L.A., John McClane‘s degenerate seat mate tries to push his foot fetish agenda on other passengers and later, after McClane has a fight with his wife, he gets curious and experiments. This results in McClane fighting the bad guys shoeless throughout the rest of the movie including a cringe inducing scene where he must run barefoot through glass to survive another explosion. He should have just punched that guy on the plane and rebuffed his man-on-cricket advances. Corpse Count:

I counted 14, that‘s if the cops in the SWAT vehicle didn‘t die though I don‘t know how they wouldn‘t have. Each death seems a little more significant since we get to know these bad guys a little bit, as opposed to the faceless Charlie in Rambo for instance. Overall, I‘d say the number of kills was just right - like a good bowl of porridge.

How Bad Is It Really? It‘s not bad at all, it‘s brilliant and that‘s not some bullshit there stuffed with irony peanuts either. In fact, I almost scrapped the lazy writing device we use and simply free balled on how wonderful this movie is.

Die Hard was a game changer. I liken its impact to Nirvana obliterating the excesses and ridiculousness monopolizing the world during the same era. Thirty minutes into the film and you know John McClane is not going to hurl a steam pipe through the head villain‘s chest through brute forearm strength alone and you find yourself surprisingly HAPPY about that. ‘s anti- hero was beefy and sweaty but he was realistic and relatable and most guys in the audience were putting themselves in his shoes. Or pants as it were. As were the laaadies.

Nobody looked ‗roided out or laden with different creams - either of the steroidal or gay sex variety. The fight scenes were the way they are in real life - a couple haymakers and then fall-down eye-gouge wrestling. In fact, I‘d say this movie found the cinematic sweet spot fight authenticity somewhere between the I-punch-you-and-now-I-await-as-you-punch-me style that preceded it and the countless Matrix ripoffs where every man, woman, and child on the planet knows elite martial arts. Sure, some of the deaths may have been implausible but they weren‘t full blown supernatural.

The villains were a refreshing change of pace too. German ―terrorists‖ whose real objective was to steal $600 million in bearer bonds, whatever those are. They‘d talk smart stuffthings like ―...and we‘ll be sitting on a beach, earning 20%‖ rather than say, ―slitting a little girl‘s throat is like cutting warm butter.‖

Their motives were obviously more dignified than your average 80‘s action scumbag and they started, for better or worse, that whole trend where a team of sleek, well-dressed professionals quickly occupy a geographical target and administer their methodically rehearsed takeover. But neck and neck with the slambang action sequences is the performance by Willis as the anti- authority, courageous everyman cop with the same self-doubts and struggles as any of us would have - to one degree or another. In one fell swoop, Willis, working from a crackling script, makes Marion Cobretti look like the utter fucking clown he is.

His John McClane climbs around in elevators and air ducts, with no instinctual understanding necessarily of the mechanics of a skyscraper and is forced to improvise with what‘s at hand (which is very little in the beginning) to make progress on getting himself and the hostages out alive.

One-Liner:

―Yippee-kiay Motherfucker‖ is the big one. Everybody knows about it and the only interesting aspect of its lore at this point is how the profanity is changed to ―Melon Farmer‖ now during network airings.

There are several other witty remarks uttered by John during the course of the film, oftentimes as gallow‘s humor reminding me of how Han Solo kept his shit during impending doom.

Is there a Stupid Chief? Is there ever! It‘s like the head writer compiled all the stupidest qualities from all the stupidest chiefs throughout the history of action films, ate them, and then shit out one Dwayne T. Robinson. He is the worst. The worst, Jerry!

Matter fact, Chief Robinson is supposedly played by notable character actor, Paul Gleason but I‘m thinking Paul Gleason doesn‘t even exist and rather Principal Vernon from The Breakfast Club got fired for assaulting student John Bender and wandered around from job to job for three years, changed his name, and then was hired right into the rank of Stupid Chief of the Police Department days before McClane went up into that building. He is such an irascible douche and his ego continually gets in the way of the progress the regular badges were making on the ground and McClane in the tower. At one point, he dismisses a dead flying terrorist body crashing through a high rise window as just another depressed Christmas stockbroker.

Stupid Political Content: Look, I‘m not gonna carp on this because the terrorists in this flick are so wildly entertaining and fun, I didn‘t care that they all look like a cross between Klaus Meine and Detlef Schrempf. We know who the real terrorists on this planet are (Gentiles) and so once that‘s out of the way, we can just sit back and enjoy the stark hues of the cast. Novelty Death: I wouldn‘t say novelty, like the aforementioned steel pipe through the chest but certainly there were some B.A. ones. Neck breakage, 400 foot falls, etc. but my favorite actually happens to be when one of the hostages, a no-good sleazeball named Ellis recklessly puts himself in harm‘s way because he‘s coked out of his mind. You know how in the upper decks of a cocaine high you‘re making all kinds of delusional promises you can‘t, or won‘t, keep - ―yea, I‘m gonna sign up for school in August and finally go back and finish!‖ ―I‘m going to get out of this town!‖ Well, generally speaking, that kind of overconfidence doesn‘t typically result in a smoking hole in your forehead. When wheeling and dealing with ruthless killers however, like Hans ‗Booby‘, ehhh...maybe not such a sharp idea.

What Did You Learn? I learned that Helsinki Syndrome is not a thing and that nothing of note has ever come out of Finland. The Die Hard Drinking Game

By Jared Latore and Clint Worthington of Alcohollywood

The Bloody Merry Christmas

Ingredients: Fig and walnut-infused vodka, 1 can Fire-roasted tomatoes, 2-3 Sweet chili peppers (assorted), Dark chocolate syrup, Stalk of celery (garnish)

Puree tomatoes and chili peppers; strain to retrieve juice. Mix equal parts infused vodka and tomato juice. Drizzle with dark chocolate syrup to taste, and shake well. Pour into pilsner glass. Garnish with stalk of celery and peppers.

RULE: 1) Drink whenever someone begins talking through a telephone, walkie-talkie or other telecommunications device.

FINISH YOUR DRINK WHEN: John McClane says ―Yippie-ki-yay, motherfucker!‖

For more cinebriation, and some entertaining and insightful podcasts, visit Clint and Jared at alcohollywood.com, @alcohollywood and facebook.com/alcohollywoodpodcast Chapter 3: Women's Studies. Also, cyborgs.

CYBORG By Matt Cale

Tagline: ―He‘s the First Hero of the 21st Century… And He‘s Our Only Hope.‖

Entire Story In Fewer Words Than Are In This Sentence: Come the , oil up and meet your maker. Homoeroticism:

A fucking explosion, dear readers, which is but one reason why this film kicks finely-toned ass. When we first meet our hero Gibson Rickenbacker (Jean-Claude Van Damme), he‘s dirty, sweaty, and staring at something in the distance. As the film grinds on, even more sweat accumulates and he‘s covered with the usual assortment of oils, powders, and phony scars. Joining Van Damme in the gay parade are gang members who wear mink stoles, sleeveless vests, and more glaze than J.C. himself.

The leader of the pack (named ―Pirates‖ as if there might be any doubt) is a buff black dude who wears a simply fabulous shirt that‘s a combination of aluminum foil and chain mail. And the scenes pile up quickly — the ―industrial area‖ where the camera pans along men without shirts using hot pokers for who knows what; a ship sequence where the camera once again pans along a group of men, paying particularly close attention to their biceps, pecs, and abs; and the skinny-dipping scene where a perfectly attractive female walks naked into the water while Van Damme remains behind! He doesn‘t even disrobe! And when this same chick takes out her tit while the two share a moment by the fire, he reaches over and covers it up!

But the best is indeed saved for last, where the final battle between Van Damme and the head Pirate is arguably the best fight scene ever filmed. There might be gayer 80s Action films as a whole, but these ten minutes may never be topped. First of all, it‘s raining and our warriors are shirtless. Second, they scream and groan with a force not heard in nature. The two sound like they‘re in a Frisco bathhouse, not some post-apocalyptic wasteland. They punch, kick, stab, smack, and bludgeon over and over and over again; I‘ve never witnessed such madness before. And when J.C. finally moves in for the kill, he plunges his knife deeply into the Pirate, clutching him tightly while remaining a soft and gentle lover. The villain even comes back to life for a few moments; just long enough for Van Damme to slam him —ASS FIRST — on a grappling hook. And I didn‘t even mention the five-minute flashback sequence where Van Damme — bloodied and shirtless — is literally crucified and left for dead! J.C. indeed. Corpse Count: A respectable 25 are killed, and most meet their end via the blade! I knew the film would be a treat when by the four-minute mark, I‘d already seen some dude‘s throat slit and the blood wiped on the sleeve of the guy standing next to the killer.

Post-Mortem One-Liner: Words are hard to come by in a film like this, but one exchange had me in stitches: Pirate: Aaaarrrggghh! Hmfstoradoggaaaa! Fucker!!! Ahhhhhh! Van Damme: Ugh! Ooooohgagaga! Come on!!!

The only other line I understood took place as J.C. and the naked chick left the beach:

He: I didn‘t make this world. She: Yeah, you only live in it.

I know, I don‘t get it either.

Stupid Political Content: Fuck man, this is a Golan-Globus production! Cannon Films! Given that knowledge, the film could certainly be seen as a parable: a great plague (AIDS) wipes out the earth and its sinners (liberals) and all that‘s left are muscled individuals and loners (entrepreneurs), who must put the world back together again (Reaganism). The strongest evidence for the anti-gay (yet homoerotic) agenda lies in a shot that lingered for at least 30 seconds. As the Pirates torture and kill a family, the camera moves to a wedding cake that is on fire. And the bride and groom atop the cake are melting! Yes, yes! An attack on the traditional family by perverts and godless homosexuals! It‘s all so clear to me now. And why on earth is Atlanta the only so-called ―civilized‖ city left on earth? Even as the world ends, the South runs the show.

Novelty Death: First, a woman‘s head is twisted off by the head Pirate. Then, due to his superior martial arts skills, Van Damme slices a man‘s throat with a shoe blade! Finally, some guy catches fire and explodes for no reason whatsoever.

What You Learned: Civilization has truly collapsed when Manowar sets fashion trends. And it‘s possible to have one‘s head slammed repeatedly in a car door and not bleed. There’s Something About Mary The Cyborg By Mike McGowan

Not worthy of a last name, but certainly worthy of recognition among the elite 80s action one-hit wonderfuls is Mary (Terrie Batson), pictured here cradling her treacherous little sister in the 1989 Van Damme classic, Cyborg. We see her gardening. We see her sleeping. We see her fumble through what few lines she utters and then we see her die. Though overshadowed by Debbie Richter through most of the film, it‘s our wide-eyed Mary who remains the driving force behind Van Damme‘s blank stares, his murderous intent, and above all, his absolutely blazing, wildfire gayness. To put Mary‘s importance in perspective we must recall what is arguably the most homoerotic scene in 80s action history. During an intimate moment by the campfire, Richter reaches into her shirt and presents JC with one of her tits— a lopsided, leathery thing assuredly, but a tit nonetheless. Without blinking, as if he were offended by the gesture, JC reaches over and covers up the cleavage with more conviction than anything he displays in his fight scenes. After denying Richter (and the viewer) the pleasure of his taut Belgian ass, he quickly flashes back to none other than Mary, the woman who persuaded him to give up the life, put away the knives, and forever put away his cock.

Mary hires JC to escort her and her siblings out of the plague-riddled wasteland, chock full of bandits, lowlifes, mercenaries, and some of the meanest mullets this side of the Double Deuce. After finding a quaint cottage in the countryside, she asks JC in the sweetest of voices to ―stay awhile,‖ and so he does. Time passes, they get to know each other, settle down, and presumably have sex, though we don‘t actually see any sex as this is a Cannon enterprise. Awkward sex is definitely implied though. So of course JC retires his weapons, trims the roadkill on his head and relaxes his guard. Things appear tranquil for a time; days, possibly even weeks pass until the ―flesh pirates‖ show up and reduce JC to a bloody mound of whimpering pulp. Shortly thereafter they tie him to Mary and one of the children before hurling the trio to their muddy deaths at the bottom of an abandoned well. JC survives the fall through sheer cast iron will, emerging from the squalid pit with retribution on his mind, the kind of retribution that demands swiftness, savagery, and many ounces of baby oil.

Mary‘s death, while tragic and gruesome, is necessary to bring our hero full circle and preserve his rippled abs. As a dutiful woman of the 80s action age she must die or be maimed, because to settle with a female is to toil in emasculation. Mary pays with her life for her seductive transgression, thus giving JC the option, the only option, to reinvent himself in the combative arms of another sweaty, grunting man. Be it her petite frame, her quiet desperation, or her ability to somehow slip in and out of a southern accent, Mary must be given credit because, after all, it is her memory that allows JC to kick through a boat mast and survive his crucifixion. Mary indeed. From what I gather Terrie Batson has, sadly, appeared in only three other movies outside of Cyborg as an ―infected woman,‖ a ―photo double,‖ and the all important ―street person.‖ It is also possible she may have been a background dancer in Teenage Ninja Turtles II. Likely saddled now with a throng of ungrateful children, a demeaning job, and a flabby husband, she can always return to her brief moment as our beloved Mary in a time of true purpose and sacrifice—a time before the darkened, bottomless, and boob-filled well of the 90s and beyond. On Carol Kersey, Bronsons Daughter In Death Wish II By Matt Cale

After her devastatingly one-note performance as Carol Kersey, Paul‘s put upon daughter, in Death Wish II, Robin Sherwood never acted again. Not even on deep, deep background in some forgettable 80‘s sitcom. She staggered around glassy-eyed, uttered not a peep, drooled over a glass figurine, pawed her ice cream cone, remained insanely stoic throughout a vicious, nauseating gang rape, jumped to her death, and simply closed the book. Though there‘s nothing to support my hypothesis, I can only suspect that the role was so thoroughly exhausting that she couldn‘t survive another shoot. Who but the heartiest, most seasoned thespian could endure take after take of suffocating sweat while trapped beneath ‘s dead-weight thrusting? No doubt the nightmares kept her away from future cattle calls; being thrown into a van, beaten about the head, face, and neck, and believing that crashing through a glass window to fence spikes below is preferable to welcoming another care package into her ravaged vagina. Did she dream of ratty beards, dirty fingernails, and the foul breath of the unwashed? Were her nights consumed with blurry visions of surly Mexican housekeepers being stripped to the bone, smashed with bats, and pounded like morning-sun cornmeal? I‘ll leave that to the therapists.

Still, Ms. Sherwood could not have been a sane woman after her star turn, but let‘s be thankful that we have it at all. While the Jane Wymans and Holly Hunters of the world collect Oscars for their wordless wonders, no one pays any mind to the action movie mutes who scratch and strain to curry our favor. Who weeps for those who, a decade prior, watched their mother forced to chug thug cock, only to survive just long enough to feel the cold splash of spray paint upon the buttocks? From that day on, Carol never spoke again, and though the screenplay lacks details, what of surviving a divorce and being sent to an institution where the only salvation is a bevy of humorless nuns who see rape as the ultimate heavenly cleansing agent? Her martyrdom is beyond dispute, for had she not been led away by that gang of thieves, only to die by her own hand, what would have inspired the mad architect to keep on killing? Had she lived, even though she‘d been raped so many times that ejaculate could double as perfume, it‘s doubtful that Paul would have gone to the Big Apple to visit an old Korean War buddy. In that sense, Carol died so that Part III might live. Rest in peace, sweet Carol. Now, you belong to the ages. Let us also consider Carol‘s symbolic power as an 80‘s-era feminine negation. Because this film came at the onset of the decade‘s eventual slide into cock-filled fascism, her role arguably ushered in the unapologetic misogyny to come. Throughout Reagan‘s administration, women of the silver screen existed solely to be mocked, attacked, sodomized, victimized, brutally dumped in various staged of naked, and, when the gods were generous, used to reignite the masculine juices of our flaccid heroes. At no time were they consulted, debated, engaged, or treated as equals. Yes, they could scream for help, roar in agony, or beg for a second round of uppercuts, but no conversation, please. Simply ask the man to remove his skin-tight jeans, and make yourself scarce. Carol made it even easier: don‘t say a word, shuffle around like a dope, and end your life to spur on the gents. Yes, papa will do. He‘ll kill for you in kind, though we‘ll know he‘s trying like the devil to recapture the erection he lost when Nixon stepped down. The babes of 80‘s Action were our barometer of belittled humanity; as our societal pin cushions and voodoo dolls, they failed to register unless on their backs, topless, and utterly blank. Carol, against the odds, was our pathfinder; the Amelia Earhart of action lady emptiness. : The Unsung Woman of ’80s Action By Jon Cross

The action genre has always been overrun by men, either because of some outdated sexism in society/Hollywood that is sadly still alive and well today, or because of a recognized, deep genetic imperative of men being hunters, gatherers and protectors that is also reflected in our broader shoulders and bigger muscles, etc. (some of us—not me sadly).

In the 1970s, this started to change a little bit. Women had always appeared strong and determined in , but it was stars like and Gloria Hendry who would pick up weapons, kick butt and take names, either by themselves or standing side by side with men. The exploitation genre, too—with the films of Russ Meyer and Roger Corman, where Grier would get her start—often had strong revenge-minded females in the lead. This, of course, has the effect of both empowering the women on screen and in the audience, but also titillating and exciting the men—or at least those men not so insecure that they were bizarrely intimidated by this behavior.

At the same time that audiences were getting used to the sight of a physically powerful action heroine, audiences were slowly becoming aware of the growing amount of eastern martial arts films that would take the action genre in a whole new direction for decades to come.

While actresses like and would, quite rightly, be recognized in the mainstream as having advanced the status of the action female lead, their roles could also be seen as simple extensions of the ―final girl‖ scenario rife in the sci-fi and, especially, horror .

For me, there is only one woman who defines ‘80s action as much as , Arnold Schwarzenegger or Bruce Willis; and while never reaching the heights of their popularity, fame or recognition, her story is no less interesting and important—and, in fact, still, unique. That woman, of course, is Cynthia Rothrock. The five-time World Karate Champion in forms and weapons, and holder of six black belts in various Far Eastern martial arts disciplines, Rothrock is also one of only a handful of western actors who would get their start in exclusively films before transitioning to the American market. And while Chuck Norris may have appeared in two fairly western-audience-friendly Asian films in the ‘70s, Rothrock made 10 proper Hong Kong pictures. When she moved back to the U.S. to continue her career, Golden Harvest studio even financed probably her most well-known straight-to-video classic of the ‘80s, China O’Brien.

For two decades, starting in 1985, Rothrock made an average of 2.25 movies a year. She had no less than six films that would spawn franchises or sequels. And yet, even among the western martial arts world and so-called hardcore action fans, she remains, sadly, unknown—or ironically regarded at best. I recently had the pleasure of interviewing her, and when posting the results online on various movie and martial arts forums, I was surprised by the snarky derision or downright ignorance that the mention of her name received.

Can you imagine the incredible skill you would need, not to mention the cultural, language and gender barriers you‘d have to hurdle (or smash) to make it as a white female westerner in ‘80s Hong Kong films? None of us can, I‘m sure. Plus, Rothrock didn‘t start off in bit parts, being tested by the filmmakers. She is the second lead in her very first film, Yes, Madam, and by all accounts was put to the test every day for months, passing with flying colors and gaining respect from her fellow actors and martial artists.

It‘s also a shame how she‘s regarded by some because, the truth is, her films are mostly good. I watch a ton of straight-to-video action films from the era. Names like Jeff Speakman, Billy Blanks and are old friends. Yes, there are certain limitations you have to acknowledge about the budgets, acting style, and even the very often recycled or generic plotlines; but Cynthia‘s films are consistently watchable and interesting. And, above all, most importantly, they feature awesome action sequences throughout.

There is a generation that regards these films with a sarcastic, ironic eye, preferring to laugh at the over-the-top villains, clothing or line readings. I am not among them. I genuinely love these films and see their shortcomings as challenges overcome, especially when they often feature such jaw-dropping action sequences.

In the lead-up to my interview with the legendary Ms. Rothrock, I watched as many of her movies as I could get my hands on, and was surprised each time at how enjoyable they were. I originally assumed that because she wasn‘t that well-remembered—or because the films went straight to video—that maybe they wouldn‘t be any good. But they were consistently surprising, action-packed gems that I will return to time and time again.

It‘s an absolute head-scratcher that Rothrock isn‘t more recognized for her trailblazing and unique body of work, something that I would sincerely like to change. She should be as respected and honored in America as she clearly still is in the east; and maybe soon she will be. In fact, she was recently the first woman welcomed into the International Sports Hall of Fame, by none other than Schwarzenegger himself.

Some of my recommendations: Obviously, Rothrock‘s most popular and critically renowned films are the Hong Kong movies Yes, Madam and Righting Wrongs (a.k.a. Above the Law), with the latter being a personal favorite and definitely a standout high point in not only her career, but the careers of a lot of the people involved and Hong Kong films in general. It‘s a seriously brilliant piece of chop-socky cinema.

Both installments in the China O’Brien and Martial Law series, while generic, feature some fantastic fight work from Rothrock and her co-stars.

Undefeatable and Sworn to Justice, two of my favorites of her American films, are both weird and wonderful, and again feature some awesomely choreographed and performed fight and work. They also see her develop as an actress and screen presence.

Lastly, although it‘s sadly her only PM Entertainment film, Guardian Angel showcases what PM and a great leading action actor do best together: , explosions and lots of fighting.

Since Rothrock‘s straight-to-video reign as, more or less, the only leading female action star of her time, we‘ve had Lucy Lawless, Sarah Michelle Gellar and Gina Torres on the small screen, and the likes of and on the big screen, but all of them, still a ―fantasy‖ of one type or another. The prevailing sensibility being, I guess, that it‘s more acceptable in those genres (sci-fi, fantasy), and we can get them to dress in leather while they do it. The very occasional or ―reality‖-based action film has come and gone, but the whole genre—and, really, movies in general—are missing female ass-kickers. However, things may finally be changing.

Gina Carano and Ronda Rousey are slowly making the transition from mixed martial arts to film acting. Also the Fast and Furious and Machete franchises have let actresses like flex their action muscles. I, for one, welcome it, and want more of it.

She would never admit it—and those actresses mentioned above may not even know it—but there is a substantial debt owed to Cynthia Rothrock and her determination, great work ethic, good humor, grace, intelligence and ability. While Pam Grier certainly should be recognized for her incredible leaps forward as both an African-American and a woman in the 1970s, ‘80s and ‘90s, there was—and there remains—nobody quite like Rothrock. Do yourself a favor and get to know her work better. Today.

You can listen to Jon on the After Movie Diner podcast and Dr.Action and the Kick Ass Kid Commentaries weekly, and find his film writings, news, interviews and much more ALL over at www.aftermoviediner.com Chapter 4: Ooooooh! Navy Seals!

Born American By Miguel Sancho

Tagline Freedom is just a word... until you lose it.

Entire story in fewer words than are in this sentence: Russians are fucked, and who gives a shit?

Homoeroticism Three American friends – blond, cocky asshole (Mike Norris, son of Chuck), arrogant douchebag and hapless, bespectacled nerd – are in Finland to have a good time, which apparently includes macho stuff like pissing together in a stream but not a single minute of chasing drunken pale tail. A mustachioed, devious KGB interrogator takes great pleasure in torturing one of the kids via electrodes attached to his nipples; note that before attaching them, he applies some Vaseline-looking goo,possibly Vaseline, over said nipples. However, evil KGB guy is next seen taking advantage of female prisoners and doesn't suffer a gruesome S&M death, so the jury's still out on that one. Norris delights us with a topical getting-in-shape montage, steel drum soundtrack included, and though he has a brief fling with one of the caged ladies, he clearly shows more passion while embracing his dying buddies and reminiscing about their warm smiles.

Corpse count Twenty-seven, but only two of them had souls.

Novelty death The nerd shoots an arrow at a burly Orthodox priest and, while the guy struggles for his life some misfired buckshot puts him down for good. This happens in a church, in front of the all the townsfolk, just as the priest was about to slaughter the other two Americans for the mysterious rape and murder of a young girl. A crime of which he was the culprit, as an extremely inept and unnecessary flashback informs us.

Novelty survival Norris gets his head pushed into the... gray fluids lying in a Russian prison's toilet bowl, and somehow emerges alive.

How bad is it really? Awesomely idiotic on every level, and impossible to resist on a beer-fueled Friday night at home, especially when some Spanish TV station precedes it with American ninja 2. They know what they're doing, god bless'em... The USA-Finland coproduction Born American was Renny Harlin's first and his calling card to break into the US market, a task he accomplished by openly stealing from The deer hunter and Midnight express while staging a bizarro Red dawn in which the Wolverines wake up in the URSS and unwittingly start an invasion on their own. Our trio of dipshits are curious about whether Coca Cola is sold behind the Iron Curtain, you know, and when their dumb prank of crossing the snowy border escalates into full-blown mayhem and lands their sorry asses in jail, we're expected to hope for an eventual escape rather than a well deserved burial in the dankest slammer known to mankind. On the positive side, the level of detail brought to the grimy and dusty jail sets was commendable, and the sick and hopeless Russian prisoners were played by extras who totally looked the part... probably dissolute Finns suffering the ravages of Estonian hooch.

Stupid political content Excluding a couple of women, not a single solitary fuck is given about any Russian victim of communist rule: neither about the jail inmates who've completely lost their minds, nor about the poor soldiers who have to put up with the whims of a trio of weekend warriors, and least of all about the malnourished peasants whose entire town gets sort-of-accidentally burned down with the efficiency of one Einsatzgruppen division. There might be a freedom-loving American inside the heart of every red Slav, but they are not BORN AMERICAN, so I guess that's what this movie's about. Our Yankee heroes never show empathy towards any suffering except their own, and lest you'd think it is some kind of ironic European take on the genre, Harlin plays it absolutely straight. Was he the most brilliant troll prior to Von Trier, or just a cynical craftsman who trusted his intended audience to eat it up wholesomely? A brief look at the career that followed is enough to answer that question. But let's not forget ―The Admiral‖, a character so ridiculous he could have been written by . He is a mysterious black mercenary who enjoys a luxurious stay in prison because he knows a lot of CIA secrets and the Russkies want to go easy on him to spill the beans. Wouldn't you know it, meanwhile he's been writing a dossier full of sensitive KGB shit, and has been waiting all along for a real human being and a real hero to escape with and give the dossier to, ensuring that if anything happens to him the world shall know the truth. He imparts us the shocking wisdom that the CIA and the KGB are really two sinister sides of the same coin, and the film ends with the kind of title card reserved for true stories, telling us that the US government filed a complaint, the Soviet Union never replied, and Norris reached Finland with his newly-found Russian bride, Nadya. Nadya... Nadya? Now fuck you, Renny...

Post-mortem one-liner Norris screams ―NOOOOOOOO!‖ at least twice. One review stated that there was a third time, but there's no way I'm watching this again for confirmation.

Was there an atomic blast at the end? No, but the Admiral blew up an entire soldiers' barracks with a single RPG shot. Weren't those used in Benghazi? Everything makes sense now.

What did you learn? Drinking Pepsi is the root of all evil.

NAVY SEALS By Erich Schulte

Tagline: They‘re America‘s secret weapon against terrorism.

Entire Story In Fewer Words Than Are In This Sentence: Terrorists are shot by Navy SEALS.

Homoeroticism: I know what you‘re thinking. How could there possibly be any homoeroticism in a rightist action movie about the navy starring two hunky men with rhyming names (Charlie Sheen and Michael Biehn)? Shockingly enough, gayness abounds. In typical 80s Action fashion all heterosexual contact is broken up by the chaperon of violence. A SEAL‘s wedding is interrupted when he is called to duty. One SEAL takes a woman to a private area on the base and embraces her only so his buddies can barge in with machine guns and scare her. Also, on the way to that wedding, Charlie Sheen jumps out of a moving car and over a bridge in act of nonviolent protest of the heterosexual union.

The gayest scene by far, however, is the golf scene, in which the boys take time off from high stress SEALing to horse around on the golf course. One SEAL leaves his shirt at home. Another wears a small pair of purple and green shorts. Another opts for a tank top. A fourth goes with an even smaller pair of shorts. Pink ones. All of this is set to ―The Boys Are Back in Town.‖ The Bon Jovi version, of course. It reminds me of an SNL skit: the commercial for ―Schlitt‘s Gay‖ brand beer. Especially the part where one of Sheen‘s buddies pokes his pooper with the head of a golf club, which is something that really happens in this movie.

At one point a commander asks Charlie Sheen how close he is to an enemy. Sheen replies, ―If I was any closer, I‘d be inside him.‖ I bet you would be, Chuck.

Corpse Count: I came up with a respectable 34.

Pre and Post Mortem Dialogue: A terrorist says something in Arabic. Charlie Sheen asks another SEAL for a translation. ―Something about your mother.‖ Sheen shoots the terrorist and says, ―Never talk about mom.‖

How Bad Is It Really? Renting this film turned me into a living joke. I felt like the stupid customer in Clerks who picks up a video box and gleefully exclaims, ―Ooooohhhh, Navy SEALs.‖ I‘m sure the real life clerks at the store thought the same thing when I checked out the movie. Unlike some 80s Action, this one is made with professionalism. That‘s about all that can be said for it. Much of the movie takes place on the home front and, apart from the gay golf scene, is just plain boring. The subplot is about a journalist who knows everything about the terrorists because she is half Lebanese. The U.S. government doesn‘t know anything about the terrorists because they aren‘t half Lebanese. So the SEALs have to convince the reporter to… see how boring this is?

Stupid Political Content: For an 80s Action film about terrorism, there isn‘t much stupid political content. The terrorists are all Arabs, which could be construed as racist if the film were set in Ireland. The portrayal of political realities is too minimal to be ideological. The terrorists are pissed about the shelling of Lebanon so they want to shoot down planes.

What You Learned: I learned about guns and shit because the SEALs helpfully describe what they are doing. They would say, ―Switching from starlight scope to thermal,‖ and I‘d learn the difference between the two, which is practically the same thing as completing SEAL training myself. We got a badass over here. The Five Most Awesome Weapons in ’80s Action.

5) Bronson’s hand cannon in Death Wish 3

Faced with the specter of Dirty Harry‘s .44 Magnum, this film‘s producers did a bit of research and found out that there is a bigger handgun, the .475 Wildey Magnum. It was intended for big-game hunting, and the shells were as big as Herve Villechaize‘s penis, but that only made it more appropriate. It was designed to be used against animals, and that‘s exactly what Bronson did with it.

4) Rambo’s knife

The knife that defined sexual inadequacy for a generation was created by Jimmy Lile, who was president of the Knifemakers‘ Guild. He was instructed to make a functional, multipurpose knife rather than just a prop. The blade looks so nasty because it‘s able to chop wood. The hollow handle stores extra tools and allows the knife to be turned into a spear. In case you need to spear something. In the ‘80s, a lot of us kids were given similar knives as toys. Because of this, we grew up to be real men. Nowadays ―the system‖ has made it illegal for boys to have even toy weapons, unless they are fuchsia-colored vag-cannons that shoot heart-shaped pieces of foam. The future is bleak. 3) The Delta Force motorcycle

As fierce as the competition might be, this is easily the most homoerotic weapon in the ‘80s Action arsenal. It has two 18-inch rockets, perfectly aligned with the rider‘s penis. And if the driver passes you by, don‘t be too relieved. He still might peek back at you over his shoulder, clinch the appointed lever and hit you with his tailpipe, which also functions as a rocket launcher.

2) The Cobra Assault Cannon in Robocop

These are military weapons made by OCP to attack armored vehicles. As prescient as Robocop is, the Cobra naturally finds its way into the hands of both criminals and cops. It‘s basically a cross between a sniper rifle and a bazooka, and using it against Robo is the only time Boddicker and his gang do any real damage to him with conventional weapons. 1) Jesse Ventura’s minigun in Predator

Yeah, if you didn‘t know, a handheld Gatling gun is known as a ―minigun‖ for some reason. Though its only victim in the film is some foliage, this weapon is still more memorable than the entirety of many Best Picture winners. Like that one about how racism is bad. What was it called again? And I‘m thinking about the minigun from Predator again.

DEATH WISH 2 By Matt Cale

Tagline: Bronson's Loose Again In Death Wish II

Entire Story In Fewer Words Than Are In This Sentence: Bronson loses daughter, begins killing again.

Homoeroticism: It is rare indeed when a Bronson film contains overt homoerotic leanings, but his character in this film does seem much more concerned with firing his big gun than sleeping with Jill Ireland. Every time they are supposed to have dinner or go out on a date, Bronson is too busy filling scum with lead. Still, there are several scenes where Bronson is walking the streets in a fishing cap while leering at other men. True, he is sizing them up in order to kill them, but the glances could be construed as flirtatious, as if he were cruising 42nd Street.

Corpse Count: Perhaps a dozen, including Bronson‘s psychotic daughter, who jumps to her death after being raped by Laurence Fishburne. Bronson kills people on subways, in parks, in alleys, and in dark basements. The deaths aren‘t as artful or plentiful as the third installment, but enough people die to satisfy any hardcore Bronson fan.

How Bad Is It Really? Arguably the worst of the series, but worth a few laughs. The pacing is deadly, and the acting more wooden than expected. Jill Ireland‘s character (as an anti-death penalty reporter) is unnecessary, although she does leave us guessing as to whether or not she too will die. Given that I don‘t remember Bronson actually having sex with her in the course of the film, it stands to reason that she will live. As for the overall critical response, the only two I remember are Leonard Maltin (BOMB) and (no stars). I can‘t disagree, but I‘d still defend it as a guilty pleasure.

Post-Mortem One-Liner: Sorry, but Bronson simply refuses to comply with this category. He insists on speaking before he commits murder. The best? After glancing at the crucifix of a victim, Bronson states, ―I see you believe in Jesus.‖ The whimpering victim replies, ―Yes I do.‖ Bronson responds, deadpan, ―Well, you‘re gonna meet him.‖

Stupid Political Context: In many ways the least political of the series, although it is clear that the film believes it is justified to take revenge if you lose a loved one to violence. At any rate, Death Wish II gives us a society completely out of control because of drugs, hippies, and liberals. Only right-wing brutes with big guns can bring any control to what is a hopeless situation. Still, Bronson loses his girlfriend in the end (not to violence, but because she discovers that he has been killing creeps), so one could say that joyful murder is not always rewarded. Still, Bronson kills only minorities and bearded screwballs, so it‘s obvious that all was well in Reagan‘s America.

Novelty Death: As I said, Bronson‘s daughter crashes through a window after being gang-raped. The best part is when she falls on a spiked gate, causing blood to pour from her mouth. That was cool and all, but perhaps not as good as Bronson‘s Mexican maid who is raped and beaten to death with a tire iron. And then there is Fishburne‘s death where he stupidly puts a boom box in front of his face to block a bullet. Blood gurgles forth after Bronson guns him down, and a tooth can be seen sliding down his chest. Or what about the previously mentioned ―Jesus‖ guy? He is gunned down with a shot to the chest, but Bronson insists on plugging him yet again when he is down. Shot from a low angle, the dead man does a full sit-up.

What You Learned: If you insist on getting ice cream in the park, you will have your wallet stolen, which will in turn lead to your daughter‘s suicide, your maid‘s murder, and your girlfriend skipping town.

LETHAL WEAPON By Matt Cale

Tagline: ―Two Cops. Glover carries a weapon… Gibson is one. He‘s the only L.A. cop registered as a Lethal Weapon.‖

Entire Story In Fewer Words Than Are In This Sentence: Big guns, big cocks, all 80s Action.

Homoeroticism: More than I ever expected, I must say. Hell, when we first meet , he‘s soaking in the tub! Even better, the first thing we see of is his glistening, bare ass! From the very first meet- cute, Gibson and Glover are like a pair of bickering old hens, which always means that they insult each other to avoid admitting that they want to make out. Typically, for any 80s Action piece, the two partners compare cocks — I — at a shooting range. Surprisingly, Gibson‘s is bigger and far more accurate. There‘s also a shared wink (so flirtatious) and the line where Gibson says, ―What are ya, a fag?‖

But things don‘t get full-tilt homoerotic until Gibson is hung by his hands while shirtless. And yes, he‘s being sprayed by water while this is going on. The electroshocks also add to the fun, as Gibson shudders and convulses like he‘s in the throes of passion, which he no doubt is. And the final battle between Gibson and Gary Busey? A homoerotic masterpiece, my friends. First, they‘re fighting in sprinklers and both soaking wet. Second, Gibson is shirtless. Third, they roll around in the mud while grunting, screaming, and hurling macho insults. As a topper, Busey is eventually subdued with his head between Gibson‘s quivering thighs. Oh behave!

Corpse Count: A pretty respectable 26 are killed, although most are bad guys, which is always less interesting than having innocent civilians run down in the streets or thrown from high places. Thankfully, there‘s a healthy mix — shootings, beatings, suicides, and exploding corpses.

How Bad Is It Really? In many ways, this is a perfectly respectable 80s Action romp, as its clichés set the tone for other, lesser films. Still, it is rather by-the-numbers, including Glover‘s oft-repeated line, ―I‘m getting too old for this shit.‖ Gibson‘s Three Stooges crap gets tiresome quickly (and come on, the ―suicide counselor‖ bit is overrated), and his Michael Landon inspired hairdo is tough to swallow. Still, for fans of crashing glass, disgruntled vets, ex-military drug runners, exploding cars/houses, and wild shootouts on the freeway, you could do worse than Richard Donner‘s efforts here. And as bad as it is, Busey‘s line, ―It‘s goddamn Christmas!‖ as he shoots a television is surely one of a kind.

Post-Mortem One-Liner: Outside of Glover‘s cackle after the main bad guy‘s car explodes, there‘s nothing post-mortem that I could find. Still, I did find a few groaners outside of a death context: ―All dressed up and no one to blow.‖ — Glover to a whore ―You ever meet anybody you didn‘t kill?‖ — Glover to Gibson ―Let‘s get the flock out of here.‖ — Gibson, after setting it up with, ―Let‘s do what one shepherd said to the other shepherd.‖ ―Get that shit off my lawn!‖ — Glover, concerning Busey’s heap

Stupid Political Content: With ‘s involvement, we know that all women will be either naked, dead, or complaining about something. Misogyny reigns in this universe, and it‘s telling that no woman has any important dialogue that doesn‘t involve prostitution or drug use. And because it‘s the Reagan era, drug kingpins are the number one baddies. Per Lord Ronnie‘s instructions, violent death is made to order — funny, exciting, and always delivered with extreme prejudice.

Novelty Death: Clearly, the opening scene where the half-naked chick jumps to her death was not topped for sheer inventiveness. Still, it was great to watch a shirtless Gibson snap some dude‘s neck with his legs.

What You Learned: During Reagan‘s action-packed eight years, cops did little but pursue drug lords with righteous tenacity. The Cannon Cannon By Thomas Bryce of Shit Movie Fest

If you were a Die Hard action movie fan growing up in the 80s there's no doubt that you went to the theaters to see or rented a film from The Cannon Group.

In the decade of excess, Cannon cornered the market for B-movies featuring over the top violence, rapid drug use, uninhibited sex, and teens trying to stop the demolition of the Community Recreation Center through dance.

Canon was the studio that made films now seen as classics, targeted at the urban market. They introduced audiences to rising stars like Jean-Claude Van Damme, but also gave a legendary actor like Charles Bronson a group of new fans thanks to the continuation of the "Death Wish" series.

Below is my list of my five favorite films released via Cannon Pictures during the 80s:

5: aka "Choice Kill" (1986)

Directed by famed cult director (see Cyborg, Nemesis, and ), Dangerously Close is a great, under-appreciated film that tells the tale of The Sentinels, an elite group of students that believes that their school needs an enema of sorts to rid itself of any and all undesirables. The Sentinels‘ leader, Randy McDevitt ( of Christine & ) makes it his mission to eliminate those that, in his eyes, don't belong, while also recruiting other students who fit the right profile into his clique. One such student is Danny (played by J. Eddie Peck) a writer for the School Paper. After seeing some of the groups' games in action, Danny turns down the exclusive membership. This doesn't bode well for Danny's future and it's up to him to form a group of his own to take take down the Elites. I became aware of this movie after renting it from my local Mom & Pop Video Store in the late 90s, not knowing anything about it, other than that the VHS box listed a soundtrack full of awesome bands. After my first viewing of Dangerously Close, I fell in love with this film; the idea of The Bad guys doing what was, in their minds, right, the dark atmosphere that Pyun created to tell his story, and,of course, that amazing Soundtrack. It‘s well worth hunting down a copy.

4: Exterminator 2 (1984)

This is the sequel to 1980's "The Exterminator", which is a good movie in its own right but it never reaches the epic cheese that is the sequel. We once again follow the the exploits of "John Eastland," a Veteran of the Vietnam War and now a One Man Army in a different kind of War . . . the one he wages every night in the mean streets of ! Armed with his trusty Flamethrower, John stops crimes all over the city as The Exterminator. Things are going good for John until one of his night time killing sprees snuffs out the brother of a notorious gang leader named X,played by Mario Van Peebles. X puts out a hit on the Exterminator and any known associates. John finds himself not only way over his head, but when his personal war ends up hurting the only two people he cares about he no longer has anything to lose and that makes him more Dangerous than ever.

I ended up seeing the sequel years before I saw the original Exterminator, so that may be why I favor this one more out of the two. But I think the action and stunts are more grand the second time around and the violence in this rivals that of the Rambo or Death Wish series. Check out both Exterminator 1 & 2 if you haven't yet, you won't be disappointed! 3: 10 to Midnight (1983)

Some say that Charles Bronson tarnished what little acting credibility he had left once he started doing movies for Cannon Pictures. I vehemently disagree because the movies he did during this time of his career are some my absolute favorite films, not just of Bronson‘s, but of all time. One such film is 10 to Midnight. In Midnight, Bronson plays Leo Kessler, a homicide detective in Los Angeles who's trying to solve a rash of murders where he knows that the prime suspect is guilty, but the killer somehow always has an airtight alibi. Actor Gene Davis who plays Warren Stacey, the main antagonist of the movie, is one of the most underrated villains in film history. His charisma, and also down right creepiness reminds me a lot of one Patrick Bateman. Also, they both like to chase down their prey while naked. Bronson is at his best here once he starts playing mind games with Warren and cramping his style by following him everywhere he goes. In the last act, when the Warren starts to target Det. Kessler's daughter and her sorority sister, he learns the hard way that you don't make things personal with old man Bronson. Damn I love this movie, it works on so many levels, it plays out like both an 80s Slasher Flick, but also it's a Solid Cop with laughs, some intentional and some unintentional, mixed in for good measure. 2:The Last American Virgin (1982)

Cannon wasn't really known for their comedies but, amidst the sea of countless Porky's clones, they put out The Last American Virgin . . . one of the best teen sex comedies ever made. Virgin is a remake of a popular Israeli film, Eskimo Limon,that came out in the late 70s but is set in the 50s. Cannon was wise to set their movie in 80s to avoid any more comparisons to Porkys and also to fill the soundtrack with some awesome 80s New Wave tunes.

Virgin tells the tale of 3 friends (Gary the Nice Guy, Rick the Stud, and David the Comic Relief) and their never ending quests in trying to score. Gary falls for a new girl to their school named Karen (Diane Franklin of "Better Off Dead" and "TerrorVision") but before he can make his move, his best friend Rick beats him to the punch. This chain of events puts a strain on their relationship and everyone around them. Virgin isn't all drama though, there are some insanely funny moments all throughout the movie . . . like when they get crabs from hooking up with a Hooker or destroy their friend Victor's car by driving it into the Ocean. Be warned, the ending is a real punch to the face, but it's a better movie because of it! 1: Death Wish 3 (1985)

When I think of Cannon Pictures, Death Wish 3 is the first movie that pops into my head. It is the quintessential Cannon Picture for many reasons. For starters, it stars Charles Bronson, it is super low budget, and it's one of the most Violent movies ever made. There is so much violence is Death Wish 3 that it becomes comical watching Bronson as his famous vigilante character Paul Kersey take on a large street gang that's been terrorizing the poor & the elderly and making their neighborhood a war zone.

It's well known that Bronson hated this movie because the drama takes a back seat to the extreme violence, but for fans of trashy action films, it's one of the Best you will ever see.

The gang does a lot of terrible things (including rape, murder, and stealing everything that isn't bolted down), but once Kersey makes himself at home in his dead war buddy's apartment, he becomes public enemy #1 on the list of the reverse mohawked gang leader, Fraker. A Police Chief named Richard Shriker recruits Kersey to cleanup the Hood, by any means necessary.

The battle starts small with Kersey taking out gang members when they are alone or in small groups, but things soon escalate to a full on war. Kersey, the remaining people of the neighborhood, and Shriker use everything and the kitchen sink to reclaim their neighborhood. It's a heartwarming story, especially the part when Fraker takes a rocket launcher to the chest!

So those are just my five favorite films that Cannon has to offer, but take a look at the 80s Action Cannon and you'll see they also did a lot of films starring Action Heavyweights such as Jean-Claude Van Damme, Sylvester Stallone, and Chuck Norris. Horror Movies like "Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2" and "New Years Evil.‖ And a lot of breakdancing films including the infamous "Breakin' 2: Electric Boogaloo." Speaking of "Electric Boogaloo," be on the lookout for the upcoming documentary "Electric Boogaloo: The Wild, Untold Story of Cannon Films.".It's being put together by Mark Hartley who did an amazing job with the docs "Not Quite Hollywood: The Wild, Untold Story of !" and "Machete Maidens Unleashed"!

You can join Thomas’s Shit Movie Fest Facebook community of over 7,000 people at https://www.facebook.com/ShitMovieFest and check out his blog at http://shitmoviefest.blogspot.com/ to get daily doses of schlock, exploitation, nostalgia and humor. Chapter 5: 80s Action Crossover

Class of 1984 By Devon Pack

Tagline: Now he's about to teach the Class of 1984 the most dangerous lesson they deserve.

Entire Story In Fewer Words Than Are In This Sentence: Sometimes teaching kids involves killing off the most delinquent ones in order to create a proper learning environment.

The Hero: This was Perry King's last star billing. Who is Perry King? That mystery is lost to the mists of IMDB, but hey! He was in Mandingo. Here he plays Andy Norris, a music teacher who's stiffer than wood- board and duller than spreadsheets. I suppose he's meant to be Chuck Norris, but he fails to even rise to the mediocrity of that hoary man-turned-meme. At all times in this film, he is feckless. Even his murder rampage feels insincere and half-assed.

The Bad Guys: A gang of five of the most fabulous art punk juvenile delinquents ever. Judging by appearances, they rule Lincoln high by virtue of having been held back for 10 or so years. They're led by Stegman (Timothy van Patten, who you might know as one of main writers for Boardwalk Empire), a blonde sociopath defined mainly by arrogance. In his best scene, Stegman pulls off a Fight Club 'beat yourself up' scheme in the boys bathroom, which succeeds in getting Norris on probation (turn in your chalk, Norris! You're off teaching schedule!).

Also of note is Patsy, the female gang member, mainly because she is the original inspiration for Lady Gaga's sartorial choices. Look at her costumes in this film and it's obvious.

Homoeroticism: Mrs. Diane Norris (Merrie Lynn Ross) is one of the most obvious beards I've ever seen. Andrew Norris really only relates to and confides his fellow teacher Corrigan (Roddy McDowell), a sensitive English type who really cares for the animals of his biology lab. Actually the homo-eroticism swings both ways: when Stegman's crew decides to gang-bang a new girl into the group, Patsy insists on getting to watch, with obvious relish.

Corpse Count: A modest six deaths for this Death Wish meets The Concrete Jungle mashup.

How Bad Is It Really? If you can make it past the opening credits, featuring possibly the worst song in the entire Alice Cooper catalogue, you are in for a fair-to-middling 'bad urban high school' film that just piles on dollops of 80s nostalgia. Wave hi to Michael J. Fox!

Post-Mortem One Liner: ―AAAH! AAAH! FUCK YOU IN HELL!!‖ - Ok, that's not a post mortem one liner, that's a pre-mortem one liner. But I'm surprised that anyone, let alone the junkie hoodlum, would have the presence of mind to say that while they are covered in gasoline and on fire.

Interesting Novelty Deaths: A spontaneous fall through several layers of plate glass, followed by a lynching in front of a packed high school auditorium? That, good folks, is how you complete a performance of Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture.

Stupid Political Content: This movie was made for exploiting the people who would later form the Tea Party. The malevolence of the teen hoodlums is never explained, beyond the fact that they are urban youth. Surprisingly, other than an early interracial knife fight, the film sticks to an all white line-up. "Fortunately, very few schools are like Lincoln high....yet.".

Having grown up in a context of zero-tolerance policies, The Class of 1984 now seems like a libertarian utopia next to the grim reality of today, where youths can do hard time for making mean X- box comments. Everything about schooling in this movie now seems for all purposes as though it could be filmed about another planet and another species.

But the absolute pinnacle of the film's politics is the closing line: "Andy Norris was not prosecuted because the police could not find anyone who actually saw it happen." Wow. Never mind that he was covered in the blood of several dead students, or that his fingerprints were everywhere, or that he had previously threatened the teens in question. This film isn't so much a conservative vision of American decadence as it is a bizarre thesis of a world where eyewitness testimony is supreme and forensic sciences a mere inconclusive backwater.

What You Learned: Nobody likes a snitch, pudgy Michael J. Fox. That's why you got shanked.

Maximum Overdrive By Jeremy Derifield

Tagline: There are five taglines. These are the two best: The day horror went into overdrive. Who Made Who?

These are the three worst: Stephen King's masterpiece of terror directed by the master himself. Imagine your worst nightmare: machines take over the world! Evil's wheels.

Entire Story In Fewer Words Than Are in This Sentence: Comet make big truck go Coo Coo!

Homeroticism: Ok, well, Emilio Estevez is wearing an earring, in the mid 80's but it's been so long since I've had my own ear pierced I forget which side is teh gay.

Estevez also sneaks an overhead peek at a fat bear man taking a dump but it's a sexless attempt to find out about a weapons cache on the premises. In fact, I swear I hear him mutter "no homo" as he peers over the stall.

Thing is, if you've read any of Stephen King's books you know he caters to pederasts but he was never really into homosexuality. I guess Connie, played by the inimitable Yeardley Smith who went on to fame as Lisa Simpson, kind of makes you want to divorce your shrill wife and run into Emilio's sweaty meatpaws.

Corpse Count: Well, this one's tricky. Cause what was the world population in 1986? Presumably, a large percentage of it perished except, poetic justicelly, I suppose in sparse, harsh, underdeveloped regions where butter was churned with a good old fashioned spoon and not a huge, electrified deathbeater or whatever. Onscreen though, I think there were 9 deaths.

How Bad Is It, Really? I saw this movie around the time it came out in VHS form, when I was a heavy-metal loving youngster, and it quickly became a fave. When I learned years later that critics absolutely hated the film, I became very sad. It made me think something was wrong with me.

The basic idea is one scientists ripped off years later when they said handheld devices might be eroding brain cells and forming tumors. Electrically charged and motorized equipment and vehicles start turning on their human captors, cutting their flesh, firing soda cans, running them over.. We're told during the opening credits that Earth had just entered comet Rhea-M's tail, where it would linger for eight horrific days. First off, how much cooler is that than another goddam virus zombie movie? Second, AC/DC scored the whole thing, which alone puts it world's above most dated 80's shit.

There's some comic folly worked into the premise, like when an ATM machine curses at a customer and he tells his wife "honey, this machine just called me an 'asshole'" (the customer was played by Stephen King but I literally find no point in telling you that other than somebody is invariably going to comment "did you know the one customer was played by Stephen King?" if I don't mention it ahead of time and I won't have that shit).

I mean, throughout the course of the film there are naturally dumb behaviors conducted by the characters at times and in one scene, a kid has trouble with his bicycle and two honeymooners seem to maintain and exercise control over a fine running automobile up until it's smashed by a big rig.

Furthermore, the machines' secret ace, an M-16 mounted on a wheeled dolly, is easily foiled by some Statue of Liberty play type misdirection. But the action is a blast and that's probably why those stuffy critics panned the movie so badly. You better believe I could fucking watch bazookas blow up semis all day. ALL DAY. One truck is hauling toilet paper and it gets exploded real good and charred shit wipe is scattered all over the Dixie Boy parking lot. There is some neat, and memorable attention to detail such as a fast food drive thru speaker that keeps saying "hummamadeer hummamadeer" over and over until this kid blasts it with a rifle. It's incomprehensible jibberish still made more sense than what comes out of the blown 6 x 9 at a local quickie joint here, affectionately known as "the ghetto Hardees" "that serves cold, rotten food".

Perhaps the notion of gas combustible engines and independently operated motorized gear parts self- identifying due to the seemingly innocuous effects of standard, albeit large and speedy, strands of dust and ice, and then attacking their masters seems sort of implausible to high minded critics who use napkins but it made fucking perfect sense to me. Comets are weird.

Any tight one liners? The deep Bible Belt southern lingo is infectious and characters drop phrases like "I don't give a ladybug" that mean nothing at all to us Union heroes and victors.

I suppose my favorite was when Estevez's characters says to one of the big rigs wanting to be filled with gasoline "I got the best shit on the East Coast, practically uncut", as if it's cocaine, like I guess it may be to the vehicles.

Stupid Political Content: No! No, it's not stupid. It's good. It's good political content. It's good little political content.. Who's a good political content??

A bible salesman turns out to be a lecherous creep, grabbing at titties and shit. He gets smoked. Everybody, man or machine, is upset and turns on one another when the oil runs out which is obviously what's going to happen in less than five years in real life. Not so much political but certainly existential when a ditzy waitress has had enough and marches outside to tell the semis that we made them. "We made you" she insists and Milton Friedman himself could not have been more convincing in that moment. She is of course, dusted by the machine gun.

Novelty Death: Hey, even Jason Voorhies wasn't killing kids and in this flick a steamroller flattens a little leaguer in the outfield. Also, a dog dies. That steamroller kill gets the nod but a close runner up is definitely the vending machine launching Pepsi cans at people and stamping one guy bloody right in the melon. What Have You Learned? I haven't learned shit because I already knew that critics are fucking assholes who don't know what they're talking about. From the iconic Green Goblin eighteen wheeler to the twist that aliens were in on it, along with the pounding AC/DC soundtrack, and a tidy little feel-good ending, this movie still blows doors on those jerks who condemned it for all those years. Who's laughing now Siskel? And Ebert.

Miami Vice: Brother’s Keeper By Juan Konstantin

Tagline: ―MTV Cops‖

Entire Story In Fewer Words Than Are In This Sentence: Cops chase Colombian drug lord and redefine cool.

Homoeroticism: As tempting as it is to read Miami Vice as a love story between Detective Ricardo Tubbs & Detective Sonny Crockett, it would be wrong to dismiss the heroic duo‘s unambiguously hetero tendencies. They ogle & pursue women. Crockett has an ex-wife and kid. His precinct‘s divorce rate is high because dedicated police officers love their job more than they love their families, but it‘s not clear that they carry latent lust for other men with badges.

Nonetheless, ―Brother‘s Keeper‖ contains several subtle suggestions that man-love is the superior way of life:

– Jimmy Smits plays an undercover cop who wants to make a quick phone call to his pregnant wife and promise to take her ―out on the town tonight for a little romance.‖ A car bomb ends his life before the Miami Vice pilot is 11 minutes old. – There are two other happily married male cops. One is revealed to be a traitor, taking illicit cash for insider information so he can pay his mortgage and childrearing debts. The other is the lieutenant, and – spoiler alert – his role will be performed by a different actor in a few more episodes. – Tubbs: ―Hey Crockett, man, you & me have been bumping knees and elbows ever since we first met.‖

A motif of repressed sexuality permeates Miami Vice, but it‘s presented as a colorful, confusing mélange of lust & bi-curiosity rather than pure homoeroticism. Tubbs longingly eyeballs drug lord Calderone inside a nightclub as though he‘s trying to vibe a potential one-night stand conquest, then he bribes a waiter to spill champagne on the man‘s crotch. Tubbs follows his target toward the bathroom, either itching to kill Calderone or hoping for a Senator Larry Craig stall job.

Later, Crockett wears a see-through t-shirt and follows a lady cop into a women‘s restroom. Miami Vice adheres to the usual 80s Action symbology that makes phalluses of weapons & automobiles. Tubbs has his little shotgun and a snub nose revolver; as a New Yorker, he probably doesn‘t even own a car. The black guy‘s penis extension is sawed off; it‘s okay if it‘s tiny or nonexistent, as he has nothing to prove.

Crockett, though, has his high powered convertible and an assault rifle. The white guy‘s penis extension is a muscle car. He must overcompensate. Sonny actually starts the show with a white Camaro before hooking up with Tubbs and upgrading to this elongated black organ that he drives while Tubbs loads & strokes his shotgun in the passenger seat.

Corpse Count: 13. 11 souls enjoy a final earthly meal of lead with a side of muzzle flash. 2 perish via explosive.

How Bad Is It Really? Miami Vice is only ―bad‖ if comically stereotypical 80s fashion & music is anathema to you. This pilot is the only episode that journeyman Thomas Carter directed, and he should be proud that he went out on top because ―Brother‘s Keeper‖ is a dandy. Creator Anthony Yerkovich is credited for writing ―Brother‘s Keeper,‖ and his script is especially enjoyable in terms of sussing out which of the plentiful cops-&-criminals 80s Action clichés were at the time relatively novel plot devices. But everyone knows the main creative force behind Miami Vice is legendary Michael Mann. Credited as executive producer, his signature audiovisual style dominates and his lifelong obsession with macho professionalism prevails here. ―Brother‘s Keeper‖ opens with The Rolling Stones blaring from a boombox as the show quickly establishes Rico Tubbs as a badass, then it segues into a moody 6 minute stretch that depicts his sly pursuit of Calderone and eschews dialogue in favor of an intoxicating wall of sound in the form of overwhelming dance music. That‘s why the show was labelled ―MTV Cops.‖ (This made sense at the time; ask your parents.)

Miami Vice actually begins in New York City, which explains why shots like this are allowed in a series that otherwise has a strict ban on filming large swaths of the color red, per Mann‘s specific instructions to favor a softer pastel color palette:

This early wordless sequence, before the action has shifted to south Florida, is a purposeful aberration, like the show is getting all the red out of its system by cramming it into Tubbs‘s pained psyche. He lurks down a hallway toward his revenge, choked by this spooky aura of redness, and for a minute we enter a horror movie.

Once the awesome theme music kicks in, though, the mellow Miami-ness takes over until the ending shootout sequence, another foray into the horror-suspense genre that deliberately visually rhymes with the initial Tubbs-Calderone encounter. This time police car lights provide the jarring red lighting across Tubbs's face as he flashes back to the New York incident that set him on the path to vengeance. The ―Brother‘s Keeper‖ narrative is tight & structured, and it is complemented by the crew‘s audiovisual choices rather than compromised by low budgets or a cramped shooting schedule like most network tv shows at the time. The Miami Vice audience is treated to an unprecedentedly richly cinematic, auteur-driven piece of dramatic television.

The most striking ―Brother‘s Keeper‖ set piece is its famous ―In The Air Tonight‖ scene, which represents the only time a Phil Collins song has ever been cool. Careful viewers will note that the lyrics & percussion match up precisely with the dialogue & visuals of this scene. The sound design is married to the action; every frame works in perfect concert with every beat of the song to explicate the characters & their motivations, and the result is one of the greatest, most compulsively rewatchable scenes in the history of television or film.

Was There a Stupid Chief? Hell yes. Some of his actual dialogue: ―By the book. By the book, Sonny, from here on! Or I swear, I‘m pulling you off the street!‖ Stupid Political Content: One scene played for laughs turns out to be prescient synecdoche for the War On Drugs and an overt endorsement of the most conservative interpretation of the 2nd Amendment – an electrical surge at a courthouse causes a 5 second blackout, and when the lights return every government employee in the building has a firearm in the kill position, pointed at the uppity black punk standing trial for a minor drug charge.

The judge puts away his giant shotgun, laughs off this display of collective gun fetishism, and announces that he‘s just enjoyed ―a glowing testament to our constitutional right to bear arms.‖

Novelty Death: Cyndi Lauper‘s ―Girls Just Want To Have Fun‖ serves as intro music for a mysterious cross-dressing assassin on the job. He doesn‘t last long, but this beauty makes his brief screen time count.

What You Learned: -Better to execute a criminal in the street than to arrest him; once allowed into the legal-incarceration system, he will escape.

– Florida has been a hellhole for a long time, a land ridden with douchebags, rednecks, wingnuts, and criminal lowlifes. Total Recall (1990)

May 11, 2014 by Shelby Sherman

Total Recall Released: 1990

Tagline: They stole his mind, now he wants it back. Entire Story In Fewer Words Than Are In This Sentence: Arnold breathes new life into Mutants, Midgets and Tits.

Homoeroticism: Arnold was classic Arnold and he never disappoints us with his disdain for anything hetero. As the movie opened he was naked,oiled and in bed with a very hot Sharon Stone on top of him, but he could not have cared less. In the next scene she was practically fucking him on the breakfast table, but he didn‘t even look at her and pushed her away. He was distracted, he said, by the thoughts of a vacation to Mars, but we know better, don‘t we? The next time we saw him he was in a rock quarry banging away with a phallic-like jackhammer, in a sleeveless shirt, sweating and flexing with nothing but bear city as far as the eye could see. To get to Mars in disguise Quaid actually wore a dress and a woman‘s wig. At Venusville there was a 3-titted whore and even a midget prostitute, an instant boner for the normal male, but Quaid was not the least bit interested in any of this action. Even when Melina grabbed and stroked his groin, Arnold was focused, but not on her, that‘s for sure.

Corpse Count: This was where Total Recall really excelled. It was hard to determine an exact number, but I estimate at least 125 persons were shot, blown up, chopped to pieces, drilled with giant drilling bits, sucked out of pressurized airlocks, shot again in rebel uprisings and met untimely deaths in other creative ways such as suffocation. Hell, even the goldfish were executed by an exasperated and furious Vilos. We don‘t know how many mutants died before the air was restored, it could have been hundreds.

Novelty Deaths: There were several candidates, Benny was screwed to death with a giant drill bit, Richter got his arms chopped off by the alien machinery,Vilos exploded due to inadequate atmospheric pressure, and the super-annoying Johnny Cab Driver met a fiery death, but I really liked the assassination of the goldfish the best.

How Bad Was it Really? Total Recall was actually quite good. In this movie Arnold displayed acting skills. He was just a working stiff dreaming about a perfect vacation. Of course, he was ripped and dangerous, but he still remained scared and confused, as opposed to being his usual larger than life Superhero. There was actually a plot in this movie and the ancient alien involvement was pretty creative and fascinating. Considering the rest of hisbody of work, this may have been Arnold‘s best acting performance ever. The movie was action packed, from start to finish and was not hokey or camp in any way, form or fashion. Total Recall actually won an Academy Award, a Special Achievement award for special effects and was nominated for one other. No, this was not your typical Arnie 80‘s action flick, Total Recall had a $65,000,000 budget and a whopping $119,000,000 gate.

Was there a Stupid Chief? If you wanted to count the bad guy, Vilos Cohaagen, yes there was.

Post-Mortem One Liners: [Quaid shoots Lori in head, killing her] ―Consider this a divorce.‖ [Killing Benny with large rock-drilling bit] ―Screw You!‖ -Quaid [Holding on to freshly severed arms] ―See you at the party Richter‖ –Quaid

More Quotes and one-liners:  ―You ever fuck a mutant?‖ -Benny  [Kicks Doug in face] ―That‘s for making me come to Mars -Lori  [Kicks Doug in groin] ―Do you know how much I hate this fucking place! -Lori  ―Was that your wife?‖ [Quaid nods] ―What a bitch!‖ -Melinda  ―In 30 seconds you‘ll be dead and I‘ll be home for corn flakes.‖ -Vilos  ―You make me wish I had 3 hands‖ -Benny [fondling the 3 titted hooker]

Stupid Political Content: Of course you had an evil Corporation, and this time they were making the little people and mutants hostages for the very air they breathed. They were also raping the planet with their giant mining equipment.

Was there an Atomic Blast at the end? There might as well have been when the alien reactor was turned on. I‘m going to say ―Yes‖.

What You Learned: You can‘t trust Negro gangsters with bad teeth, even when you are on Mars.

The Killer By Miguel Sancho

Tagline This film will blow you away. One Vicious Hitman. One Fierce Cop. Ten thousand bullets. The Biggest Body Count in History.

Entire story in fewer words than are in this sentence: Two Chinese Milhouses meet in the Chinese Shelbyville (Hong Kong).

Homoeroticism Early on, The Killer (Chow Yun Fat) is injured during a shootout, and bullets have to be pulled out of his back while he lays down on a church bench. Watching the frontal shots of The Killer naked from the waist up, sweating and screaming in pain, you would think he was being cornholed with a particularly large member. As The Killer keeps staring at an enormous cross during the ordeal, he is clearly wishing for Jesus Christ himself to do the thrusting. Hell, there's even lightning outside! Remember that baloney from 90s fanboys' and hip critics about 's ―poetic juxtaposition of violence and white doves‖? It was all a ruse to divert the attention from the real symbolism of his films. And from the unmistakable response of our crotches.

The surface plot has something to do with The Killer attempting to atone for his sins by curing the eyes of a singer (Sally Yeh) he accidentally blinded, but needless to say we know better. The meat of the story lies in the attempts of a cop (Danny Lee) to catch The Killer, becoming more and more obsessed with him because ―he's different.‖ And he is, darling, how did you notice? You know that clichéd scene where an FBI profiler is focusing on a lot of portraits of some serial killer, hoping to get inside his mind? Well, in this film The Cop sits relaxed and smiling while he looks at portraits of The Killer, hoping to get inside his pants.

After several shootings further excite each one's curiosity about the other, The Killer and The Cop finally meet with guns drawn at close quarters, in what nerds like to call a ―Mexican standoff.‖ If that means ―culturally vibrant and totally gay courtship ritual‖, I guess they're right, as the two of them smile, glance tenderly at each other and exchange pleasantries while a soothing melody plays on the soundtrack. And, after all, isn't a gun a mechanical artifact built around a long, hard cylinder that shoots loads... I mean, lead? Just as steel is about to be replaced by flesh, the blind woman intrudes and The Killer and The Cop have to pretend they are old friends, just friends, and keep their metallic erections away from her filthy feminine hands. The Killer manages to get away, leaving The Cop in utter confusion about what to do next: should he apprehend this guy or team up with him? Uphold the law or, huh, pass to the other side? And when, oh when will they meet again?

As if forbidden pleasure and delayed satisfaction weren't enough, the romance is heightened by The Killer's contractor and The Cop's partner putting their lives on the line to ensure the happy alliance of their most loved ones. I think I'm starting to understand the appeal of those Twilight movies and having a passionate vampire stepping aside so you can fuck a werewolf, or vice-versa, but let's not get sidetracked... Following yet another shootout, our two heroes finally get to have their moment of intimacy. If you thought I was misreading the church scene, this sexual congress is signaled again by The Killer being treated for his wounds, this time having gun powder poured over a bullet hole and lit up to cauterize it. The orgasm is so intense that he has to bite on a wood branch, while The Cop holds his arm and watches in amazement. Afterwards, they have a post-coital smoke and talk: we have so much in common, you're the only one who really understands me, etc. etc. Then they go to plug another lot of men full of gaping holes.

Corpse count The IMDb trivia lists 120 kills, but almost every guy who gets shot has his demise replayed from several angles in varying film speeds. If I had to add up every separate depiction of death, the number would be close to five hundred. Awesome! And you are still wondering how the U.S. lost to those yellow devils in 'Nam?

Novelty death There are numerous variations of ―guy gets shot 20 times, goes flying and crashes through some window‖, but I loved the ease with which The Killer dodged a charging thug, pushed him against a table and stabbed his back with a kitchen knife. It was like bullfighting without animal cruelty, patriotism or tight, shapely, pearl-and-gold-encrusted pants. Win some, lose some.

Was there a stupid chief? Indeed! The Cop's immediate superior is a bespectacled, pushy bureaucrat who only cares about getting a promotion, and of course he doesn't want to hear anything about helping The Killer just because at heart he's a good guy. A good guy with a gun. Which is not that hard to understand considering that his promotion hinders on apprehending The Killer and preventing crime, rather than kicking Hong Kong above El Salvador in murder stats.

Stupid political content The Stupid Chief kinda looks like Kim Jong-il. All right, that might not be true, but only because I'm sober now; he is fat, short and Asian, anyway. Some cops at the airport harassed a group of Japanese businessmen, and it wasn't portrayed as a bad thing. How bad is it really It hasn't aged well, though the violence remains glorious and there's plenty of it. It's just that now that this film isn't as ―cool‖ as it used to be, or that I left high school and my virginity far behind, there's no excuse to overlook all the corny . Looking from an homoerotic angle, the bond that develops between The Killer and The Cop is worth a few laughs, sure... until you realize the film is actually the creepy fantasy of a sad, lonely ten year old kid who keeps meaningful discussions on the nature of honor with an imaginary friend. Dumb politics presented with a straight face are a big part of what makes the 80s Action canon (or Cannon) a legend, but Woo is embarrassingly, almost disarmingly earnest in exposing his childish views on good and evil. As well as in, you know, wishing unapologetic gunishment upon grown-up versions of the bullies who stole his lunch money and made fun of his ―Abidas‖ shoes during PE class.

While I still love Woo's handling of shootouts, even more so in (which doubles this one's body count and is the better movie, albeit less ridiculously personal), I've always been skeptic regarding all the praise he received, as if a very obscure movie called The wild bunch didn't exist. Woo ripped off Sam Peckinpah's editing style, diluting the ugly kick of violence by adding the grace of martial arts choreography. Of course, Hollywood's take on Woo consisted in having people shooting a gun in each hand while wearing dark clothes and sunglasses. The following HK actioners' further poochiefying of Hollywood's poochiefying of Woo's poochiefying of Peckinpah consisted in... let's just say that I'm pretty confident that movie executives use a diagram of The Human Centipede in their presentations. At least watching this one made my teenage self go looking for Le samouraï.

Post-mortem one-liner The Cop, sobbing inconsolably after the death of The Killer: ―Jeffrey... my... friend...‖

What did you learn? Beretta magazines are magic, and so is friendship. It's OK to kill hundreds of meanies to cure the blindness of a single woman, but the moment a statue of the Virgin Mary explodes things have gone Too Far.

Top Dog By Erich Schulte

During the early and mid-1990s, things began to fall apart for cynical bastards who enjoy kicking their feet up and watching the world burn. The USSR was gone and the White House was occupied by a sick man who liked girls more than guns. The country was going soft and 80s Action was dying on the vine of decline. Something had to be done to preserve the careers of Arnold, Sly and friends during these epicene times and the abomination that is 90s, 80s Action/Comedy was born. 90s, 80s Action/Comedy wasn‘t a sub-genre of 80s Action, so much as it was the severely retarded son of 80s Action who was sent to an institution upstate at eighteen months of age and never spoken of again. Although there are only a few 90s, 80s Action/Comedies, I will establish a new template for dealing with them. Just in case I decide to review Twins or Stop! Or My Mom Will Shoot.

How Ill Conceived Was It? This is where 90s, 80s Action/Comedy stands out. You will rarely find films based on such bad ideas, because the central tenet of 90s, 80s Action/Comedy is that comedic films should star the least funny actors in the world. In the case of Top Dog, the pitch must have run something like this:

– Idea Man: How did Turner & Hooch and K-9 do at the box office? – Producer: I think Turner & Hooch made a very small profit. K-9 probably make like 75% of its investment back. – Idea Man: Not bad! Now suppose we improve upon the ―tough cop partnered with a cute dog‖ formula. You could be looking at the kind of returns normally offered by a savings account, or possibly even a CD. – Producer: Okay, but how could you possibly improve upon Turner & Hooch? Idea Man: Well, I think the problem with that film was that it starred a gifted comic actor. Producer: Yes, that does seem like a poor choice. I‘m listening… Idea Man: OK, you ready? Chuck Norris! Producer: And he would play the cop or the dog? Idea Man: The cop. Sort of a straight man for a wacky dog. A very, very straight man. Producer: Brilliant! Let‘s go hog wild. I‘m budgeting this film at $400,000!

Also, the villains of this family friendly romp are a gang of white supremacist terrorists who indiscriminately masacre non-whites and attempt to assassinate religious leaders in hopes of triggering a race war. We were fine with that, but, 20 years later, Americans fly into a panic at the prospect of explaining to their kids why a woman lady another lady.

How Bad Was It? Perfectly terrible. Some movies are so bad that they‘re just unwatchable. Others, like Top Dog, are made with enough competence to be bearable and enough stupidity to be hilarious. A scene involving the super-sniffing abilities of the dog, ―Reno,‖ sent me into a laughing fit that restarted twice after the fact. Reno can smell out any kind of explosive or drug, which is impressive enough. But when Chuck is searching for evidence in a Nazi‘s desk, Reno aids by sniffing out a secret switch that opens a hidden compartment, containing incriminating photos. Because the dog can smell secret switches.

Top Dog is laden with other plot holes and irrationalities. For example, every time a cop comes anywhere near the Nazi operation, the Nazis unnecessarily kill him. I can just imagine the Stupid Chief (yes, there was one) piecing that evidence together, ―Every time I send a cop to investigate this group down at the docks, he gets shot. Something fishy‘s going on here. Better send another cop…‖ In reality, however, the police investigators do not posses such acumen. The Nazis kill a cop who has come aboard their boat and toss him overboard. Normally not a bad plan, but the boat was the base for a lot of their illegal activities. It still might not be a bad plan if the boat wasn‘t permanently docked in harbor. All of those factors combine to make dumping corpses overboard a pretty bad idea. Still, after the body turns up in the small harbor where the Nazi boat is docked, Chuck puzzles over where to begin his investigation.

Was It Actually Funny? Most of the jokes are about on this level; Norris takes his new partner back to his messy bachelor pad. The dog looks around at the mess… and runs out the door! Chuck is even messier than a dog! The one intentionally funny joke is that the Stupid Chief is a Japanese-American named Callahan.

Mostly, we‘re relying on unintentional humor, and as I‘ve said, there is plenty of it. One semi- intentional laugh comes at the end of the film. Reno and Chuck have just saved the Pope (who has like maybe three security guards) and a couple of other religious leaders from a terrorist attack. Reno, apparently a scarf enthusiast, grabs the Pope‘s scarf and runs with it, sending the Pope flipping into the air. The scene is played as another goof by the mischievous mutt, complete with freeze frames of the human reaction shots. The funny thing is that it looks for all the world as if the Pope has been killed, just as the Nazis had planned. His legs fly several feet into the air as his head falls to the concrete. The Pope lays motionless as goofy music plays and the humans chase after the lovable mutt. ―REEE-NOOOO! You killed the Pope!‖ Wah-wah-wah-waaaaaahhhh! The Greatest Movie Assholes in the World... Ever By Dara Yazdani of Exploding Helicopter

Forget the great roles of Shakespeare or that worthy biopic of Lincoln, Mandela or whatever earnest dullard is the political flavour of the month. They may provide the roles which win you and the respect of your thespian peers, but they are not the roles movie lovers remember.

No, if it‘s cinematic immortality you are after, then there‘s really only one role you should aspire to play: the asshole. Characters in these roles get the best lines and plenty of scene-stealing screen time. No amount of restrained emoting is going to compete with that.

So what makes a truly obnoxious asshole? The best ones are pompous, irritating, self-serving and crucially beyond redemption. Achieving this type of anal alchemy requires a special kind of actor and it‘s a travesty there isn‘t a separate Oscar category to recognise the artistry of this highly specialised field.

Sadly, the movie asshole appears to be an endangered species. In today‘s politically correct climate fewer of these beasts stalk the planet. Fortunately, though we will always have the ‗80s. A decade long Utopia where movie ‗assholery‘ reached its zenith and where pretty much every film had an outlandish prick causing mischief. So, let me be your guide to the ‗80s asshole universe.

1

Film: Die Hard Character: Harry Ellis Actor: Hart Bochner Such is the dirty-vested fame of this film that you‘ll need to have been either blind, brought up by apes in the Amazon, or a practicing Tibetan monk not have seen Die Hard. If you are by some small chance in one of these niche groups a rare treat lies in store for you. From Alan Rickman's fabulously preening piece of "Eurotrash", to Alexander Gudunov's cold eyed killer Karl, the film is stuffed with memorable characters. Despite the stiff competition in a stellar cast one man rises above them all. And that man is Harry Ellis, the coked-up slimeball who attempts to smirk his way out of trouble by betraying Bruce Willis.

Ellis is the distillation of everything that was bad/good about the 80's condensed into one bearded, Rolex-wearing, suit-with-the-sleeves-rolled-up yuppie asshole. He calls people "babe" and says "capiche" without the faintest whiff of irony.

Favourite quote: "Hey, I read the papers, I watch 60 Minutes, I say to myself, these guys are professionals, they‘re motivated, they‘re happening. They want something. Now, personally, I don‘t care about your politics. Maybe you‘re pissed at the camel Jockeys, maybe it‘s the Hebes, Ireland, that‘s none of my business. I figure, you‘re here to negotiate, am I right?"

Asshole Rating: 9 out of 10.

2

Film: : Part III Character: Terry Silver Actor: Thomas Ian Griffith The Karate Kid series is a stone cold classic (please note I refuse to include The Next Karate Kid on the grounds that the Hilary Swank vehicle is a celluloid travesty, and anyway it was made in the ‗90s). Key to the success of the films were the rich cast of assholes. Throughout the series Ralph Macchio had to battle past some of the finest in cinematic history. From Martin Kove's sadistic John "Pain does not exist in this dojo" Kreese, to preppy Johnny Lawrence (Billy Zabka), nutcase "Bad Boy" Mike Barnes (Sean Kanan), and the psychopathic Chozen (Yuji Okumoto). Not to mention Cobra Kai weasel Tommy (Rob Garrison) author of the immortal line, "Get him a body bag!"

However, the undisputed leader of the pack has to be Terry Silver (Ian Thomas Griffiths) the corrupt pony-tailed millionaire and martial arts expert who appears in Karate Kid 3. Griffith revels in the pantomime theatrics of the role with a great line in arrogant smirks and over the top evil laughs. You always want your assholes to be over the top and boy does Griffith deliver. Favourite quote: "All right, all right, I've heard enough. I've made up my mind. This slope, what's his name - Miyagi -and that punk kid - I'm gonna get them for what they did to you. They made you suffer, so I'm gonna make them suffer... and suffer and suffer and when I think they've suffered enough, then I start with the pain."

Asshole rating: 8

3

Film: Ghostbusters Character: Walter Peck Actor: William Atherton If there's something strange in your neighbourhood.....it‘s probably because this asshole turned off the power grid to the containment unit. Petty officialdom is the natural habitat of the asshole and Peck (Atherton) is a pen-pusher par excellence.

As a by-the-book local official, he is directly responsible for the paranormal catastrophe that engulfs New York after throwing his toys out of the pram when refused a tour of Ghostbusters HQ. Actor William Atherton seems to have made a career playing detestable assholes, later going on to play douche-bag reporter Richard Thornburg in Die Hard and the slimy Professor Hathaway in RealGenius.

As is the rule with assholes in 80's films he gets his comeuppance.

Favourite Quote: Dr Ray Stantz: Everything was fine with our system until the power grid was shut off by dickless here. Walter Peck: They caused an explosion! Mayor: Is this true? Dr. Peter Venkman: Yes it's true. [pause] Dr. Peter Venkman: This man has no dick.

Asshole Rating: 6 4

Film: Back To Future Character: Biff Tannen Actor: Thomas F Wilson As Marty McFly‘s nemesis, Tannen is the archetypal meat-head with a coterie of hangers-on, who is just as much an asshole in the first film as his great grandfather "Mad Dog" Tannen is in the last. As an idiot Tannen relies on his size to compensate for his inadequacies in the brains department. Low- level abuse is his forte, and to be honest he is more of a pest than a serious asshole - lacking both the charisma and the verbal dexterity to achieve the highest echelons of the asshole world.

However, he‘s worthy of inclusion here if only because the cosmic order is restored in all three films in exactly the same way with Tannen getting covered in manure. Remember kids, being an asshole never pays.

Favourite quote: Biff: Hello? Hello? Anybody home? Huh? Think, McFly! Think! Your old man, Mr. Loser? Marty McFly: What? Biff: That's right. Loser with a capital "L". Marty McFly: Look, I happen to know that George McFly is not a loser... Biff: [interrupts] I'm not talkin' about George McFly. I'm talkin' about his kid! Your old man, Marty McFly Sr. The man who took his life and flushed it completely down the toilet.

Asshole rating: 4 5

Film: The Breakfast Club Character: Richard "Dick" Vernon Actor: Paul Gleason John Hughes' teen comedy never gets old and Gleason stars as high-school vice-principal pissed off at having to give up his Saturday to baby sit a bunch of reprobates given detention. A particular source of ire for Vernon is teen rebel John Bender (Judd Nelson) who can‘t help but rub him the wrong way, and it‘s in their scenes where Gleason is able to give full reign to his inner asshole. Another rent-a- dick, Gleason provided memorable jerk-ery entertainment as a scumbag private investigator in Trading Places and as douchebag police deputy Dwayne T Robinson in Die Hard. Gleason sadly died in 2006 and the asshole loving community collectively mourned.

Favourite quote: "That's the last time, Bender. That the last time you ever make me look bad in front of those kids,you hear me? I make $31,000 a year and I have a home and I'm not about to throw it all away on some punk like you. But someday when you're outta here and you've forgotten all about this place and they've forgotten all about you, and you're wrapped up in your own pathetic life, I'm gonna be there. That's right. And I'm gonna kick the living shit out of you. I'm gonna knock your dick in the dirt."

Asshole Rating: 3 6

Film: Ferris Bueller‘s Day Off Character: Ed Rooney Actor: Jeffrey Jones Another John Hughes classic and another puffed up teacher (Ed Rooney) losing his cool with the kids. Or specifically one kid, serial manipulator, truant, "righteous dude" and Christ-like figure Ferris Bueller.

Believing him to be a bad influence on the rest of the pupils and on a ―first class ticket to nowhere‖ Rooney is obsessed with uncovering Bueller‘s truancy, using increasingly elaborate methods to catch him.

Rooney suffers a superb comeuppance when he‘s attacked by the Bueller family dog whilst trying to break in to their home. As the credits roll Rooney‘s humiliation is complete when, dishevelled and mentally broken, he tries to hitch a ride on the school bus to the obvious mirth of his pupils. Souring actor Jeffrey Jones' work are his recent convictions for child pornography. He‘s unlikely to be cast as a teacher again any time soon.

Favourite quote: "Tell you what dipshit, you don't like my policies you can just come on down and smooch my big ol' white butt! Pucker up buttercup!"

Asshole rating: 5 7

Film: Character: Gunnery Sergeant Hartman Actor: R.Lee Ermey Wow, assholes don't get much bigger then Sergeant Hartman. musings on the horrors of war starts with a bang with Ermey delivering a rip-roaring monologue that sets the tone for the beasting the recruits are about to receive. Ermey was no Broadway thespian who‘d prepped with a few weeks research. A bona fide drill instructor during the Vietnam War, he was originally hired as a technical advisor. Kubrick ended up promoting him to star status after seeing a video of him bawling out a recruit for 15 minutes without repeating himself.

Hartman‘s asshole status would be higher were it not for the fact that his insults were intended to train prepare the recruits for the pressure of war. He might be an absolute bastard but the method to his madness counts prevents a higher ranking.

Favourite quote: "If you ladies leave my island, if you survive recruit training, you will be a weapon. You will be a minister of death praying for war. But until that day you are pukes. You are the lowest form of life on Earth. You are not even human, fucking beings. You are nothing but unorganized grabasstic pieces of amphibian shit! You will not like me. But the more you hate me the more you will learn. I am hard but I am fair. There is no racial bigotry here. I do not look down on niggers, kikes, wops or greasers. Here you are all equally worthless. And my orders are to weed out all non-hackers who do not pack the gear to serve in my beloved Corps. Do you maggots understand that?"

Asshole rating: 6 8

Film: 2 - The Road Warrior Character: Wesley "Wez" Zonault Actor: Vernon Wells Before Mel Gibson became an anti-Semitic alcoholic he actually made some decent films. was a low-budget dystopian actioner set in the Australian outback where marauding gangs roam the lawless desert looking for innocents to plunder. Amongst the bandits number is Wez, a rare example of homosexual asshole (George Resplendent in studded leather, bondage gear and a red Mohican he appears to be auditioning for a post- apocalyptic version of the Village People. About the only he thing he‘s missing is a droopy moustache. With his foppish lover Golden Youth in tow, Wez enjoys nothing more then watching people suffer and chasing his victims around like he is on a glorified safari.

While Wez lacks the verbal sophistry and withering put-downs of the very best assholes, he qualifies on the basis that he‘s the only person on this list who could disembowel and look a complete tit.

Favourite quote: (after someone is killed) *No!* *No more talk!* We go in! We kill! Kill! We kill 'em! They kill us, we kill them! Kill 'em! Kill 'em! Kill! Kill!

Asshole Rating: (out of 10) 5 9

Film: Weird Science Character:Chet Donnely Actor: Bill Paxton Older brothers are natural jerks (believe me, I was one). Here, Chet (Paxton) does a great job as the sibling from hell in this classic 80s teen comedy. Two losers create their ideal woman and bring her to life using a ZX Spectrum and a blow-up doll. Sadly for the pervs among you Kelly LeBrock does not have any nude scenes in this film (Tip: you need to watch Woman in Red for that).

Fresh out of military-school and complete with buzz-cut and camo-gear Chet blackmails, bullies, abuses, and generally makes fun of his geeky younger brother throughout the film. (Paxton later rehash this performance as Private "Game over man! Game over" Hudson in Aliens.) Chet's eventual comeuppance really is a classic of the form with the magical LeBrock turn him into a giant pile of excrement as punishment for being a grade-A asshole.

Favourite quote: "You two doggie dicks couldn't get laid in a morgue."

Asshole Rating: 8 10

Film: Aliens Character: Carter Burke Actor: Paul Reiser Nothing says asshole more than a corporate lick-spittle who‘s always willing to forgo morals in favour of a promotion. And if you‘re looking for the ultimate company man then you can stop your search for I give you Carter Burke.

In slimily persuading Ripley (Sigourney Weaver) to return to LV426 with a team of marines, Burke displays all the slick despicability of the very worst politicians. And when his plan to capture an alien is thwarted, he covertly plots to impregnate Ripley and a young child to transport a hidden specimen back through quarantine. What a d-bag. When in turn that scheme is rumbled and the aliens attack Burke selfishly locks the group in with killers as he makes his escape on his own. Such is Reiser‘s skill in portraying the character‘s low cunning and cowardice that his much deserved comeuppance at the jaws of a hungry alien is one of the highlights of the film.

Favourite quote: Look, Ripley, this is a multi-million dollar installation. He can't make that kind of decision. He's just a grunt!

Asshole Rating: 8

Dara Yazdani writes for our friends at Exploding Helicopter, a site that covers movies, especially violent action movies, especially violent action movies that have exploding helicopters in them. You are strongly encouraged to check them out at explodinghelicopter.blogspot.com. Chapter 6: Chuck Norris Could Beat Up A Bear With His Beard Or Whatever.

Commando By John Gautreaux

Entire Story In Fewer Words Than Are In This Sentence: Arnold has eleven hours to murder an entire army.

Tagline: Somewhere...somehow...someone's going to pay

What are they going to pay for? For kidnapping Arnold's daughter (Alyssa Milano) and using her as a bargaining chip...or cookie if you will.

If Arnold doesn't assassinate the President of Val Verde, little Ms. Milano's ears will be on a necklace. You see, what happens is that a disgraced, power-hungry general and a blood-thirsty merc team up and attempt to take over the peaceful nation of Val Verde.

Wait, where exactly is Val Verde? Probably next to Narnia or something. Look, it's not real. You can just take a three letter Latin word and add another majestic sounding Latin word, and you've got a fake country to serve as the backdrop to your tale of bloodletting. I got my scuba certification in San Bano for real cheap. Did you know the chief export of Mas Sangre is tampons? I did three days in a Los Penes jail for putting ketchup on a burrito.

See, sounds legit right? So yeah, Arnold decides not to assassinate El Presidente de Val Verde and instead opts to single handedly kill all the insurrectionists in order to get his daughter back and save the noble Val Verdeians? Val Verdins? Val Verdarians? Vastaferians?

Corpse Count: Arnold starts off killing people one by one, but then by the end of the movie, he's killing them five and six at a time. He arms himself to the teeth and bring death by the dozens to an island of people whom he views as enemy combatants. I'd say the final tally is anywhere between 120 and 150. He‘s basically Anders Breivik without the serial killer haircut. Nevermind, he just has a different serial killer haircut. To put that death toll in perspective, only four and 3/5ths people died in the Boston Massacre, and that incident fueled a revolution. So yeah, that's a very impressive amount of caskets he filled. Let‘s hope the Vastaferian God accepts their treasonous souls into Valhallaverde.

Homoeroticism: It's not quite Top Gun homoerotic, but Arnold does wear a bikini bottom on a beach and then puts on makeup while accessorizing himself with war gear. However, most of the repressed man-love is expressed through the film's true villain, Bennett. Bennett was one of Arnold's men, but was kicked out of the killing club for enjoying being in the killing club too much. I think we all know why Bennett is so angry all of the time, the chain mail vest, the fingerless gloves, the caterpillar mustache? Let's just say Bennett isn't a shark-fighting, dirt-bike driving, police officer. He has the kind of rage that only the inside of another man's anus can quell. In the final fight scene, Arnold tells Bennett, ―Forget about the girl. It‘s you and me. Don‘t deprive yourself of some pleasure. Come Bennett. Let‘s party!‖ If there is ever a gay porn spoof of this, a lot of the dialogue can just be taken verbatim from the movie.

Do they balance it out with any hot babes? Well, they give it the old community college try. There is a quick shot of some titties in a hotel room as Arnold and Bill Duke duke it out, sorry. But the main eye candy in this tale of adventure is a hot, light- skinned black babe, and Arnold needs her help to find Bennett‘s island of misfit boys.

So basically, Arnold is using Alyssa Mulatto to get back Alyssa Milano? Yes, but it‘s all very progressive. This babe shoots a rocket launcher, robs a gun store, and even flies an airplane. Also, she knows how to flirt and be sexy. It‘s all very refreshing for the love interest to not be some useless, blond bimbo in distress. Plus, she is really attractive. It almost makes up for Bennett‘s leather pants. Stupid Political Content: I guess this was to all power hungry dictators not to try and overthrow a puppet leader installed by an American backed revolution from a fictitious island nation?

So Val Verde is an island? It is now motherfucker.

Is there a shotgun that can hold a hundred shells? Of course!

Do a bunch of mall cops get served? Fuck Yes! This is America, pal. We protect our malls at all costs. Apparently the San Diego Mall has about two dozen rent-a-losers ready to protect and get served. Watching Arnold put a gaggle of badge-licking douchebags in the hospital was so satisfying I rewound it three times.

Post mortem One Liner: There are so many great ones. After Arnold rips a pipe off the wall and throws it through Bennett‘s chest, a bunch of smoke starts coming out of the pipe, to which Arnold quips, ―Let off some steam.‖ It‘s so great because I didn‘t know you could throw a rounded, circular object through a person. Perhaps Bennett is made of some flesh colored pudding? Also, where is the smoke coming from? Is it inside Bennett‘s belly? It seems as if Bennett‘s gelatinous innards act as a steam factory powered by latent homosexual rage. But yea, this film is ripe with post mortem one-liners. The only thing missing would have been Alyssa Milano stabbing a Danza-esque henchman with an ice pick and asking, ―Who's the boss now?!‖

How Bad Was It Really? It is a truly great action film. Even before Arnold gets to Murder Island, he's jumped out an airplane without a parachute, threw a guy off a cliff, ate a Green Beret for breakfast, pushed an overturned car back on its wheels, picked up a phone booth (with a man inside), dove a bulldozer into a gun store, drove a truck down a cliff, drove the local mall cops to support socialized medicine, and fed a baby dear by hand. And most of this happened with the same cool action music from Another 48 hours playing.

Novelty Death: Everything that happens in the tool shed should be in the novelty death hall of fame. After Arnold is out of ammo and surrounded in a tool shed, the enemy decides to investigate. Bad move. Arnold uses a pitchfork to tickle one guy's heart, throws a radial saw blade through the skull of some jabroney, puts an axe inside a loser's gut, then uses a machete to literally disarm someone. The deaths were so horrible and gruesome; I'm pretty sure that tool shed is going to be haunted now. If they ever make a Commando II, it could be Arnold fighting the tool shed ghosts.

What Did You Learn? Arnold shredded the mall cops, exterminated an entire army, impaled a Green Beret, but somehow managed to get cornered and captured by the San Diego Police Department. They must be a pretty amazing bunch. Also, I learned that if a helicopter ever comes directly to your house, death is sure to follow. That's an 80's movie fact.

What Didn’t You Learn? There is a phrase in society called, ―going commando‖ and it means that you're not wearing any underwear. I was kind of hoping this movie would shine some light on that. It didn't. As far as this movie is concerned, ―going commando‖ means wearing bikini bottoms while you slaughter people.

IRON EAGLE By Matt Cale

Tagline: ―Break the speed barrier.‖

Entire Story In Fewer Words Than Are In This Sentence: Overacting Negro, young stud team up for rescue mission.

Homoeroticism: Let‘s see… It‘s the 1980s, fighter jets are involved, and young men wear sleeveless vests. Yes, homoeroticism is alive and well, thank you very much. The main character, Doug, is Tiger Beat made flesh — feathered hair, sunglasses, tight jeans, firm muscles, and ready to kick Commie ass. And in his spare time, he likes to race his airplane against a tough-talking fellow stud who rides a motorcycle.

But the full scope of homoerotic behavior doesn‘t hit until Louis Gossett, Jr. makes his appearance. Outside of being one of the most embarrassing actors ever to win an Oscar, Sweet Lou is also one fine hunk of sexual chocolate, talkin‘ loud and never letting you forget he‘s a man. Lou shakes his ass during a James Brown song, insists that Doug have a conversation with him while he takes a shower, and says the following things to a boy young enough to be his son:

―Get your butt in my trailer.‖ (He says this twice, in fact) ―Why don‘t you see what my pillow and bed is doing.‖ ―If I could get in that cockpit with you, I‘d show you touchy.‖ These things must also be taken with the fact that Lou makes Doug a farewell tape wherein he expresses his love and admiration for the kid. Lou also gives Doug his wings, which is a gay gesture in anyone‘s book. When it turns out that Lou (called Chappy Sinclair in the film) is not dead and he shows up at the end, Doug throws himself into an embrace that might pass for porn if only a few more articles of clothing had been removed. Only our racism, not any homophobia, keeps these two rods of iron from exchanging fluids.

Corpse Count: I was stunned to learn that not one person would be killed in front of my eyes. Oh, plenty of planes are shot from the sky, towers and buildings blow up, and flames shoot from every direction, but I didn‘t have the pleasure of watching anyone die. Still, I should have expected such things, as this film wants to glorify war and military hardware and it would be too messy to admit that actual human beings must stop breathing when men want to whip out their cocks and get to fighting. This is faceless, gung-ho warfare, the kind that the powers-that-be always prefer whenever they want to overthrow a democratically elected government somewhere on the globe. Let‘s keep it abstract, boys. There are women and children watching.

How Bad Is It Really? For chrissakes, Twisted Sister and Dio actually appear on the soundtrack. And nevermind that the mission is initially planned in a juke joint. Or that its posturing and puffed up escapades make Top Gun look like Catch-22. Or that the only women we see are either crying, making mistakes, or not talking at all. This is a world where young boys put small, faded pictures of their girlfriends in a lonely corner while their rooms are overwhelmed by full color glossies of jets, rockets, and studs-in-arms. If the aim of was to make military combat seem like a video game set to rock music, I can only say: mission accomplished. All of this outrage, however, ignores the central fact that a teenage boy manages to fly into hostile territory and save his father from some member of the Axis of Evil, all without getting so much as a scratch. You betcha.

Post-Mortem One-Liner: Nothing post-, but there was a pre-mortem nugget, pulled kicking and screaming from the cliché bin: ―So long, asshole.‖ But with homoeroticism afoot, it stands to reason that the lone putdown involves the anus.

Stupid Political Content: A fucking shitload, my friend. We have trigger-happy Soviets, warfare as a romanticized rock video, conflicts between the military and civilians (need I state that this film sides with those desiring a military junta in Washington?), and the stated belief that negotiation is for limp-wristed cocksuckers who sleep with their mamas. And the military life is seen as the best possible career choice for our young people, given its opportunity for killin‘ and such. And then there is this quote, uttered by a black kid no less, perhaps foreshadowing Clarence Thomas‘ rise to the Supreme Court:

―(Iran) was different. Mr. Peanut was in charge. Now we got this guy in the Oval Office who don‘t take shit from gimpy little countries.‖

Thanks, now fetch me a lemonade, Uncle. But I‘m still scratching my head over the bad guys — Arabs with Russian accents. I guess the filmmakers wanted to show that when it comes to evil, Commies and towelheads are one and the same. It‘s our way of shaking our fist at those who put up the Berlin Wall and those who take hostages in the name of Allah. But when a film contains the only two black men in America who supported the Gipper, Marxist Saudis aren‘t much of a stretch.

Novelty Death: Alas, not one. But I did see a novelty survival, as Gossett managed to live after his plane struck the water at MACH 1.

What You Learned: Men with feathered hair are not to be messed with.

Tagline: An Eye For An Eye, A Tooth For A Tooth Entire Story In Fewer Words Than Are In This Sentence: Hillbillies vs. Mafia

Homoeroticism: Lisping, dancing, super-stud, stars as a Hillbilly cop in Chicago. This guy has always screamed homoeroticism to me, largely because I believe that anybody who knows how to dance must be gay. His hillbilly clothing is hardly rugged and probably best described as an ―outfit.‖ He has a wife, however, and koodie- transmitting activities such as kissing are implied, though basic decency dictates that they not be shown onscreen.

Swayze and his brothers are very close and like to wrestle. He arrests his older brother at one point and throws him in the pokey. ―So what,‖ you say, ―they‘re brothers.‖ Remember my friend, ―sons of the soil,‖ as they prefer to be called, have a different outlook on the limits of familial intimacy.

Corpse Count: A paltry 10.

How Bad Is It Really? There are a lot of people in this film who are stars today – Helen Hunt, Ben Stiller, Liam Neeson – pretty much everybody but Patrick Swayze, who has transcended mortality and entered the Hall Of Heroes.. Does that make Next of Kin a good film? Not quite.

The film borders on absurdity right from the git go, but goes all the way in when a platoon of hillbillies arrive to back up Swayze in his climactic battle with the mob. Bows, throwing axes and bear traps are deployed successfully against the mafia, who have no means of defending themselves, apart from automatic assault rifles. But none of these tactics qualify as the novelty death.

Novelty Death: It‘s important that you understand something. This description is in no way exaggerated. The scene I am about to recount actually happens in the movie, as described.

First, let‘s back up a little bit. One of the hillbillies we‘ve seen in the background during visits back to the hills is a guy who looks like Randy ―Macho Man‖ Savage. He is always stroking a big snake. Whether this is for religious or homoerotic reasons is never totally clear. When the hillbillies back home learn that a second brother has been killed, we see them gearing up for retribution and boarding their own bus to Chicago. This is when we get the…

Best One-Liner: Gay Religious Macho Man is packing his pet snake and says ―we‘re going for a trip.‖ A poor excuse for a one-liner, but what do you want from a bunch of hillbillies? They normally communicate by blowing in jugs.

Novelty Death, Continued: So the hillbillies are fighting the mafia in a cemetery. They loose a couple of hounds on one of the mob soldiers who, armed only with a machine gun, flees in helpless terror. The hounds chase him into the hillbilly bus and Gay Religious Macho Man bars the door. What could be in the bus? Hundreds, if not thousands, of snakes. Cut to an exterior shot of the bus where we hear the Mafiosi scream. So just to be clear, this guy was killed when hounds chased him into a bus full of snakes. That‘s the kind of death that can get you a wikipedia entry all by itself, like the dude who tripped over his own beard and broke his neck or the lawyer who jumped against a window to prove it was unbreakable and fell 20 stories to his death.

I can‘t help that point out that the hillbillies would had to have planned this method of attack ahead of time. Before the even left for Chicago. ―I‘ve got an Idear! We should stop poopin‘ in our drinkin‘ pond!‖

―I don‘t know Jessiper. That sounds like demmi-crat talk to me. But I got a good idear. We fill the whole bus up with poisoned snakes. Then when we a git to Chicago we have the hounds chase one of them city slickers onta the bus and lock up the door!‖

―How is we gonna git all the ways ta Chicaga withs a two thousans poisoned snakes on a the bus?‖

―Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…‖

Stupid Political Content: Not much. In fact Next of Kin is pretty weak as an 80s Action film, except for the jaw droppingly stupid novelty death and other camp values. There is the idealization of the rural, an old theme in American politics dating back to the revolution. While the rest of the world regards their peasants as peasants, we like to pretend that ours are noble and wise. That‘s because our idea of wisdom is using hounds to chase someone onto a bus full of snakes.

What You Learned: Swayze used to pick his scripts with the guidance Nancy Reagan‘s astrologer.

MISSING IN ACTION By Matt Cale

Tagline: ―The war‘s not over until the last man comes home!‖

Entire Story In Fewer Words Than Are In This Sentence: Chuck Norris re-fights Vietnam; this time we win.

Homoeroticism: Surprisingly enough, there‘s not a whole lot of overt homoeroticism, but enough is implied. First of all, Norris wears tight jeans in several scenes, and we get plenty of close-ups of his hairy, glistening chest. And, in a flashback scene, we get to see a sadistic Vietcong commander tear open Chuck‘s shirt while he‘s tied up by his hands. There‘s also a woman who works for the State Department, who we believe is going to be a love interest but instead stands around while Norris strips down to his underwear. This occurs two separate times, yet they do not have sex. Hell, they don‘t even kiss. Even more confusing is when Norris visits Bangkok and turns down the offer of a $10 hooker, and then visits a whorehouse where, again, he does not have sex. One could argue that he doesn‘t even notice that there are women in the building. Add to that the obligatory wrestling scenes, complete with grunting, sweating, and the occasional mud thrown in, as though that could cover up what‘s really going on.

Corpse Count: In all, there were 95 confirmed on-screen deaths (yes, I counted), including 32 in the first nine minutes. When Norris blows up a POW camp, at least 100 more were killed, but I was not able to make an accurate count. So, that‘s like 200 corpses.

How Bad Is It Really? At least Rambo moved! I was bored out of my fucking mind when I wasn‘t being disgusted by the phony dramatics. Norris is a bland non-actor who just might have the fewest lines of dialogue by any lead actor since the advent of sound. And, given that his expression never changes, it‘s impossible to tell whether or not he‘s even human. I guess you could give the film credit for filming in what appear to be authentic locations (as opposed to the Georgia wilderness of The Green Berets), but that‘s faint praise indeed. If I‘m going to spend 100 minutes in the presence of conservative propaganda, at least try to be entertaining. It was not. Hell, I didn‘t even laugh at the absurdity of it all.

Post-Mortem One-Liner: Since Norris rarely talks, I thought I‘d never hear one. Near the end, he does utter ―Yeah, fortunes of war‖ after killing a slimy soldier, but I would never defend that as a good one-liner. Chuck‘s buddy in his quest does scream ―I‘ll see you in hell‖ as he jumps overboard to help fight off a Vietnamese boat, but he wasn‘t about to kill anyone at the time. Usually films of this type have silly one-liners galore, but I‘m not sure the filmmakers even bothered to pick up a script. Dialogue of any kind was the last thing on their minds.

Stupid Political Content: Quite obviously, this film is nothing more than Reagan-era revisionism attempting to redefine the lost cause of Vietnam as a rescue mission instead of the misguided, unwinnable slaughter of millions. Still, I must ask: if POWs were being held for ransom or as a bargaining tool, why would the Vietnamese government deny that they had them? Is it because they love torture and brutality for their own sake? And when we reach one of the POW camps, why are there guard towers? If the Vietnamese deny their existence and the United States government refuses to believe in their existence, who the fuck is going to come looking for them? If no one cares, why not let these wounded, psychologically damaged men wander the streets? Why devote millions of dollars, hundreds of troops, and all the latest military hardware to keeping them hidden? And then when Norris finally locates the POWs, there are only three of them!

All that effort for three fucking men? This great, elaborate conspiracy to hide three cocksucking men? Does this shit make sense to the moronic right-wingers who believe this nonsense? Is this how America deals with loss and humiliation? By completely losing our minds and believing what is patently false? While Norris never whines like Stallone about the injustice of it all, it is clear that only bearded, ever-so-homoerotic men are capable of winning our battles. And while we‘re at it, given the high percentage of minorities who fought in ‗Nam, why are POWs in these films always white? Is it because if not, then no one, not even well-built dipshits, would risk life and limb to find them?

Novelty Death: Norris slams an axe blade into a man‘s chest with his bare hands. It takes a few minutes, but he finally gets it in. And, in a flashback/dream sequence, Norris takes a grenade in each hand and jumps — slo- mo style — from a ledge where he lands on several Vietcong and explodes. When the scene immediately following this one is of Norris waking up in a cold sweat, I could not have been more disappointed.

What You Learned: When it comes to revisionist fantasies, right-wingers have us all beat in terms of downright silliness. Do they really believe that you can erase the past and create an entirely new present, even if it resembles a comic book? Of course they do.

On Deadly Ground By Mike McGowan

Tagline: His battle to save the Alaskan wilderness and protect its people can only be won… On Deadly Ground.

Entire Story In Fewer Words Than Are In This Sentence: Fringe-clad Eskimo sympathizer embraces clean energy, beatdowns ensue.

Homoeroticism: It takes a genuine moment of scrutiny to unravel Seagal‘s latent and complicated homosexuality. Erich and I have been at slight odds over the years on the subject, yet I think we can both agree that On Deadly Ground is Steven‘s directorial tribute to 80s action. The film was released in 1994 but make no mistake, despite its renegade reformist agenda, this is 80s action through and through, the final languid gasp of an all but dead genre. Seagal‘s obsession with testicles has never been more fervid; he kicks, punches, prods, and shoots no less than five pair throughout the movie. After the requisite bar fight, Seagal challenges a mouthy oil worker to a depraved game of hand-slap during which he belittles the poor guy, questions the legitimacy of his ―big balls,‖ and then sadistically punches them. Let‘s face it, the dude prefers to be physical with other men rather than shoot them outright. Furthermore, not once does he show any interest in the Eskimo chief‘s daughter who is more than fuckable.

The gayest scene, possibly the gayest of Seagal‘s career, occurs when he is sent on a sacred journey courtesy of the Eskimo elders. After wrestling a grizzly bear, he finds himself in some kind of candlelit caribou skin enclosure. On one side is a bejeweled and beautiful native woman writhing naked on a bed, heaving her sweaty breasts in his direction. On the other side is a leathery shaman hag holding a rawhide shaker. Seagal takes a long look at the exotic seductress beckoning him to join her, then turns back to the pruned old woman. He shoots a final glance at the come-hither vixen and then we witness something remarkable. We see Seagal put his hands together and literally begin to pray. Not to pray the gay away, mind you, but to pray that the bewitching little harlot disappear and leave him alone forever. And so she does!! He opts to speak with the ancient broad to complete his spiritual transformation and be reborn. That, my friends, is fucking gay.

Corpse Count: 27 bodies stack up pretty quickly in the latter half of the movie, putting it right up there with Marked for Death as one of the bloodiest Seagal flicks in the archive. We see people shot, tortured, stabbed, burned alive, and one unfortunate is cudgeled with a whale bone. Moreover, there are plenty of trademark ass-drubbings to be found amid the carnage. Arms are snapped, wrists are reconfigured, and fingers are shaped into various letters of the alphabet.

How Bad Is It Really? With Michael Caine, John C. McGinley, and R. Lee Ermey on board, it can‘t exactly be bad, can it? It‘s absolutely ludicrous, yeah, but not bad. Kill Switch is bad. This is actually one of my favorite early Seagal films because the preposterousness is taken to unexplored dimensions. During the first half of the movie you have Seagal shoveling his anti-corporate, anti-oil, pro-environment propaganda down your throat and in the second half you have twenty or so murders, several of them novelty deaths, accompanied by a half-dozen large explosions. It‘s all very confusing. The directing and acting aren‘t completely unbearable but there are several sluggish and unnecessary scenes that drag the running time to an hour and forty minutes. The dialogue is typically heinous, even laughably self-righteous at times, and Seagal‘s acting is, well, rheumatic at best. Sadly, a majority of the action takes place toward the end of the movie so we must first listen to Seagal‘s theories about manhood and all the fucking Eskimo platitudes concerning eagles and bears that amount to nothing more than slant-eyed sorcery.

The hilarity revolves around Jennings (Michael Caine), an unscrupulous oil baron who is set to launch Aegis-1, the biggest refinery in the world that happens to look like the control tower of an Imperial Star Destroyer. The problem is that he is using faulty preventers because he is shady and because the land rights will revert back to the Eskimos if he can‘t get the refinery running on time. Forrest Taft (Seagal) works for Jennings as some kind of supervisor but when he discovers the truth about the preventers, Jennings has him killed. Or so he thinks. Forrest is saved by the Eskimos who nurse him back to health, teach him to be one with the animals, send him on a mystical pilgrimage, and give him a snowmobile. After collecting all the irrefutable evidence he needs to topple the oil company, Forrest ruthlessly and efficiently butchers Jennings and all of his cohorts before blowing up the refinery. Why take it to court, right?

Pre-mortem One-liner: Forrest lassos, yes, lassos Jennings at the end and strings him up for a final face-to-face. Jennings: ―Shoot me, you son of a bitch!‖ Forrest: ―I wouldn‘t dirty my bullets.‖ Chief‘s daughter: ―Dirty one for me, Forrest!‖ Also, this chilling exchange: Chief‘s daughter: ―Who are you calling?‖ Forrest: ―I just gotta reach out and touch someone.‖

Stupid Political Content: Christ, where to begin? It‘s almost too asinine to contextualize. We‘re bombarded with the tired notion of the noble savage at every turn. The harmonious, peace-loving Eskimos are at the sinister whim of a diabolical oil company with no concern for the environment. Realizing the error of his ways, Forrest is taken into their tranquil world and reinvented as the man-bear, a spirit warrior, he who will bring peace to the natives. Seagal not only plays the hero but also the role of philosopher, a sort of logician of the last frontier. He‘s constantly asking profound questions like, ―what does one say to a man with no conscience?‖ and, ―what does it take to change the essence of a man?‖ These are questions with which I still grapple. Oddly enough, after returning from his enlightening journey to the spirit world, he promptly denounces all the ―hocus pocus‖ Eskimo wizardry in favor of a calculated, murderous rampage.

There‘s loads of anti-oil petitioning to be found. The natives suffer because the land is being raped and the water steadily polluted. The wildlife of Alaska is being driven from its natural habitat and Eskimo babies are arriving to mother earth with strange anomalies. Various cancers have stricken the tribe. Hell, even the chief himself is gunned down by one of Jennings‘ goons in a supposed act of self- defense when obviously the chief is the oldest living human being on the planet. Steven just completely hurdled off the deep end with this one, which brings us full circle to the preeminent speech. Originally eleven(!!!) minutes in length, the studio demanded that it be condensed to just under four presumably because members of the screening audience had burst into insuppressible laughter, then clawed their own eyes out. We see a clichéd montage of oil-slathered birds, crop dusters, gasses spewing from corroded pipes, decomposed animals— all while Seagal speaks to us wearing a breathtaking fringe jacket flecked with turquoise beads and other hallowed trinkets. ―How many oil spills can we endure?‖ he asks. ―The plankton is dying!‖ On and on we go before Seagal finally breaks down into a meandering tirade about how our children are being genetically damaged. Did I mention Billy Bob Thornton is in this movie?

Novelty Death: There are several worthy candidates but I‘m going with the death of Hugh (Richard Hamilton) for two reasons: first, the absolute hilariousness of the whole ordeal and second, its stupid political content. So John C. McGinley and Thorgrim from Conan break into Hugh‘s house to retrieve some EPA files for Jennings. Hugh won‘t budge so they flatten his fingers with a whale bone and sever his leg with an industrial pipe cutter. He moans and rolls his eyes in what is possibly the most unintentionally funny bit of acting I‘ve ever seen. As this is all happening we‘re treated to a slow pan away from Hugh‘s face, up and out of his cabin window toward the pristine snow-capped mountains in the distance. This is what courageous people will endure to protect the environment.

Was There An Atomic Blast At The End? No, but there were a fuckton of big explosions, the biggest of which occurred in my pants.

What You Learned: Never pass up an opportunity to bang the chief‘s daughter. Spotted Eagle, the earth is our grandma. THE TOP FIVE FINAL FIGHT BLOWOUTS IN ACTION MOVIE HISTORY By Andrew Bonazelli

5) Robocop vs. ED-209, Robocop The original Robocop is a treasure trove of memorable weaponry, from Murphy‘s trusty Auto 9 sidearm (a heavily modified Beretta 93R) to the cracked-out convenience store robber‘s Sterling Mark 6 Semiautomatic Carbine to the crème de la crème ―state of the art bang-bang‖ Cobra Assault Cannons canonized on page TK. The latter being all it (somewhat disappointingly) took for our hero to obliterate the poor ED-209 merrily guarding the OCP building at the end of the film. To be fair, Murphy had been through quite the gauntlet by that point—from getting blown to shit by the entire Old Detroit police force to trading impalements with Boddicker—so it‘s hard to argue with taking that fucker out fast. Consult the (criminally underrated) sequel if you want a little ingenuity in Robo taking on a substantially larger stop-motion killer robot.

4) Paul Kersey vs. Manny Fraker, Death Wish 3 Two unstoppable forces finally square off in what Matt Cale very accurately dubbed ―an apartment complex that would fit comfortably in downtown Beirut.‖ Kersey and Fraker did the man dance in a holding cell earlier in DW3, with Fraker briefly but decisively kicking the shit out of our geriatric hero (with help, yes), so it was reasonable to expect their many disagreements to be resolved via fisticuffs, à la JCVD and Bolo in . Uh, close. Wildey is this film‘s primary problem solver, and when his services are unavailable, a mail-ordered M72 LAW rocket will suffice for wiping Fraker off the face of the earth. Definitely more satisfying than watching a then-64-year-old roll around with a homicidal gang kingpin half his age.

3) Frank Dux vs. Chong Li, Bloodsport You might call bullshit on this being a ―blowout,‖ but the only chance Chong Li had was surreptitiously blowing quicklime in ―my man‖ Dux‘s eyes. Otherwise, pre-blinding, Dux put on a clinic, exposing the Kumite favorite‘s defensive shortcomings, exhibiting ruthless innovation (launching off the poor, abused ref‘s back), then bitch-slapping homeboy with his foot. OK, Chong Li tagged him a couple times, but come on: you think the Seahawks were sweating the Broncos‘ lone TD and two-point conversion in the Super Bowl? How can it not be a blowout when you blind your fucking opponent and still get your ass beat to the point of croaking ―Matte‖? That one was for you, shidoshi.

2) vs. Entire Myanmar Armed Forces, Rambo We had to deal with 70 minutes of turn-the-other-cheek Christian missionary blather, but Rambo finally threw us the red meat we craved, and to put it mildly, we ate well. Commandeering a truck-mounted UAZ-469 .50-caliber M2 machine gun, John lays waste to platoon upon platoon of filthy, godless, rapist Tatmadaw soldiers. The bloodletting is so inspiring that even the most pious missionary choad gets in on the fun, going to town on a baddie‘s skull with orgiastic fervor before predictably collapsing into a puddle of self-revulsion. So, so wonderful. Unlike First Blood: Part 2, there are no physical specimens to hold their own one-on-one against our hero, so Rambo settles for gutting and disemboweling the kid-touching major. Gentlemen, start your boners. I think I‘m gonna follow Denis Leary‘s lead from ―Asshole‖ and get myself a 1967 Cadillac El Dorado convertible, hot pink, with whaleskin hubcaps, an all-leather cow interior and big brown baby seal eyes for headlights. FUCK.

1) Gino vs. Richie, Out for Justice Richie Modano: highly skilled at blowing away irritating, defenseless female motorists; not so hot at hand-to-hand combat with ‘s finest monologist detective. In glorious, inimitable order, Richie is 1) hurled into shelving, 2) flipped onto a dresser, 3) chucked off of a balcony, 4) kneed in the face, 5) hurled into more shelving, 6) introduced to a face-stomach-testicles aikido combo, 7) booted in the face, 8) chucked onto a dinner table, 9) relieved of a butcher knife via wrist-snap 10) shoved headfirst through a window, 11) cracked in the knee and back with a rolling pin, 12) rapped on the top of the skull with a frying pan, 13) punched in the forehead three times, 14) stabbed in the face with a corkscrew. Then posthumously shot a couple times to do the mob a solid, but that‘s just a cherry on top. Indeed, it‘s a shame he was out of bullets. Could‘ve saved him a lot of pain.

Andrew Bonazelli works for your friendly neighborhood metal magazine, Decibel. He has his own blog covering pop culture detritus, Towering Achievements, which you can view via the internet at: http://www.toweringachievements.com. Chapter 7: I Never Said I Was Running For Pope

Army Of One By Mike McGowan

Tagline: I‘ve seen two taglines for this film, the first being ―Willpower. Horsepower. Firepower. At 180 miles an hour,‖ which I believe was attached to the original title, Joshua Tree. However, I like the U.S.A. version that comes with the working title for obvious reasons: ―Sometimes one man is all it takes.‖

Entire Story In Fewer Words Than Are in This Sentence: Ex-con wonders whether he‘s asexual, or plain old gay.

Homoeroticism: A classic tale of retribution in the name of thy fellow man. Dolph seeks revenge for his slain buddy proving once again that men, not women, inspire the greatest gun battles. Although we aren‘t rewarded with a frame of his exquisite buttocks, we do see Dolph parade around in a pair of tight black Dockers through most of the film. We also see him shirtless in several scenes, abs rippling. Yet the movie doesn‘t contain as much homoerotic, puffy-chested bliss as it does sheer anti-womanism. The lead female in the movie (Kristian Alfonso) is bitch-slapped, beaten, shot at, handcuffed, called a cunt, and told to shut up more times than I could count. Every man in the movie save Alfonso‘s boyfriend (who she is of course breaking up with) is portrayed as a gun-toting chauvinist. All in all, the most overtly gay scene occurs when Alfonso and Dolph check into a motel, but not just any motel, a themed fuck-motel! Dolph handcuffs a fresh-out-of-the-shower Alfonso to him, forces her into bed, then says, ―I just need an hour of sleep, then we‘ll go.‖ I also vaguely remember Dolph handling another man‘s pre-mortem testicles at one point but it could‘ve been a dream I had.

Corpse Count: I tallied an applaudable 46 corpses, mostly belonging to nameless Korean car thieves who get shot- gunned to death in one ten-minute bloodfest (and I mean gallons of it) that easily trumps the final shootout in Raw Deal.

How Bad Is It Really? At nearly two hours in length, the movie sags like Matt Cale‘s belly– it‘s boring, flaccid, and filled with content you‘re better off not looking at. Still, I‘ve seen much worse from the gargantuan Swede. Dolph plays Anthony Santee, an ex-con who is out for justice, not pussy. Simply put, he takes Alfonso hostage, doesn‘t have sex with her, and tries to find the bad guys, namely the crooked cop (George Segal) who killed his friend and framed him for the murder of a police officer. The plot is pretty thin and the acting even thinner, but we do get to see Alfonso naked. The scene is of course nonsexual in context because in Santee‘s world, a nice set of tits resemble nothing more than the sloping eyes of Korean gangsters.

There are some noteworthy car chases, one of which includes a black Lamborghini Countach and a super-gay red Ferrari. I think we all know who drives the Ferrari. In the end, next to Alfonso‘s gorgeous ass, the only saving grace of the movie is the shootout. It‘s odd, actually, that a shootout of such 80s action magnitude would make it so far into the 90s. While Schwarzenegger managed to successfully transcend the 90s action threshold, the pool of appropriate stars for Army of One was clearly pretty shallow at the time. The only logical explanation for such a bloodbath is the presence of Mr. Lundgren, who mostly likely demanded the extreme violence to feel more comfortable around Kristian Alfonso.

Stupid Political Content: No politics, but there sure is a lot of abstinence and murder. I‘m reaching here but I suppose a case could be made for attention being drawn to the longstanding LAPD tradition of murdering innocent people. Since that discussion is as old as Los Angeles itself, why this yawn-a-thon to address something so widely known? Yeah, I got nothin‘.

Best One-Liner: There aren‘t any post-mortem one-liners in the true 80s action sense, but there was a scene where Alfonso and Dolph are hiding out under a bridge eating cactus: Alfonso (flirting): ―You‘re not a very nice person. You‘ve hurt many people.‖ Dolph (shirt unbuttoned, chest glistening): ―I never said I was running for Pope.‖

Novelty Death: Although it doesn‘t initially kill the poor bastard, Dolph plunges a rusty shard of metal into the neck of a bulky Korean, gutting him downward. The fact that Dolph slays 40+ human beings in less than ten minutes in the year 1993 with a shotgun that never runs out of shells is pretty god damn astonishing.

What You Learned: That hot women need to shut the fuck up. Stupid cunts.

MALONE By Matt Cale

Tagline: ―Ex-Cop. Ex-CIA. Ex-Plosive!‖

Entire Story In Fewer Words Than Are In This Sentence: kicks fucking ass.

Homoeroticism: A Burt Reynolds film is always tough from a homoerotic standpoint, largely because Burt tries so hard to portray himself as a ladies‘ man. He was this country‘s number one sex symbol for quite some time, but one look at him and it isn‘t hard to imagine that just as many men masturbated to his image as women. He is burly, masculine, well-built, and, well, that moustache! As for the film itself, Burt does make his initial appearance with his shirt wide open and chest hairs flowing. He also bonds with another man over a mutual love of cars, which later provokes a woman into saying, ―You like that car better than me.‖ Burt is kicking back in a barbershop when a local drunk comes in with a gun and accuses Burt of having a ―teeny pecker.‖ Needless to say, that man is gunned down within two minutes of that remark. Burt also flirts with several women, but does not have sex with any of them. The only other instance of homoeroticism occurs when another man lights Burt‘s cigarette. I know, it‘s not much, but Burt is very careful with his image.

Corpse Count: Only 12 people meet their end, most of whom are murdered in the final act. When the deaths come they are sufficiently brutal, but, until the bloody finale, we are forced to endure dull scenes of Burt trying to act macho. In order to make this dud worthwhile, at least 100+ would have to die.

How Bad Is It Really? It‘s not as horrible as other action romps of the 1980s, but it is rather boring and uneventful. I expected more gunplay and cheesy one-liners, but Burt insisted on playing the ―strong, silent type.‖ Still, Burt‘s toupee looks positively terrible; I don‘t remember it ever looking this bad. And what can we say about Burt bursting through a window — without suffering so much as a small cut — and still having the presence of mind to blow away a man from a distance of at least 200 yards? But the most Herculean effort of masculinity occurs when Burt is blasted through the stomach by a high-powered weapon. From all appearances, his entire gut has been blown away. Not only does Burt survive this event, but he also manages to live after being in a rollover accident while on the way to the hospital. Through it all, Burt sweats a bit and I believe I noticed some slight wincing. Within a few days, he is back to his old self — running, jumping, and blowing assorted scum to pieces. All of this is made even worse by the fact that we must once again hear the old chestnut, ―I‘m getting too old for this.‖

Post-Mortem One-Liner: After one of Cliff Robertson‘s henchmen confronts Burt in a barn, Burt bellows ―Wrong!‖ after being told he wouldn‘t dare shoot the guy. Other than that, there‘s not a lot of humor, intentional or otherwise.

Stupid Political Content: This might pass as an indictment of right-wing survivalist groups (Cliff Robertson plays a wealthy right- winger who wants to ―take America back‖), but we get so little political insight and dialogue that the label becomes a mere plot device. Robertson could just as easily be a drug smuggler or a wife beater, as this is far from an exploration of the mind of a conservative racist. Cliff does utter, ―We of pure race must get rid of the traitors in this country,‖ but Burt kills him and his gang not because they are megalomaniacal bigots, but rather because they targeted him for death when all he wanted to do was get his car fixed in a small Oregon town. His killings are motivated by self-preservation, not politics. There is also the fact that Burt is an ex-CIA man who committed atrocities for his government, but when he wants out, the Feds send someone to kill him. I guess this is the film‘s way of saying that if someone wants to go straight, the big, bad government wants you dead. Politics aside, this film is nothing more than a typical 80s Actioner that believes it is righteous and justified to kill when pushed too far.

Novelty Death: Within two minutes of Burt‘s arrival into town, an old man on a bicycle is hit by a car. That in itself would not be a novelty unless the sequence featured one of the worst dummies I have ever seen in a movie. It looked no different than if a car had run into a love doll. Later on, a man is killed by a bale of hay.

What You Learned: Given Burt‘s total lack of charm and charisma, I am still in the dark as to why this man was a box office champion for so long. More importantly, as any doctor would tell you, the quickest way to recover from a massive bullet wound to a vital area is a few hours of bed rest.

RED HEAT By Erich Schulte

Tagline: Moscow's toughest detective. Chicago's craziest cop. There's only one thing worse than making them mad. Making them partners.

Entire Story In Fewer Words Than Are In This Sentence: Soviet cop and American cop unite against civil rights.

Stupid Political Content: The opening scene uses abrupt horror movie music. Buhm! Bu-Buhm! All it‘s doing is showing the Kremlin. Years removed from cold war paranoia this didn‘t even click with me for a second. ―What‘s so scary about... ohhhhhhh.‖ I think it might have been tongue in cheek, but it all just goes to show how crazy and naive everyone was back then. Now we‘re smart. We‘re just terrified of some guys living in a cave and doing monkey bar races on the other side of the planet.

When the Commies come to the US what else do they do but deal drugs? And who do the commie drug dealers team up with? Militant blacks. Giving us militant black/Commie drug dealers. The head Commie militant black drug dealer declares that he is on a ―spiritual‖ mission: ―I plan to sell drugs to every white man in the world... and his sister (laughs crazily).‖ Lastly, Arnold and Belushi find a rare point of commonality when they agree that all drug dealers and drug addicts should be rounded up and publicly ―shot in the back of the head‖ without trial. This is all seriously in the movie.

Homoeroticism: Ah the sweet sweat of the bathhouse. The line between joke and reportage is a thin one in these homoeroticism sections. Sometimes we exaggerate things. But these films really do have a lot of bathhouse scenes. I‘ve never been to a bathhouse. I don‘t remember my friends ever going to bathhouses. Even gay guys. But in the world of 80s Action, cops and robbers just seem to find themselves stripped down and grappling in bathhouses about once a week or so. Just part of the lifestyle.

Here, the bathhouse is the second scene in the movie, right after the terror Kremlin. There are some token women and they are allowed to run naked because, who cares? Every single man in the bathhouse is a bodybuilder. Literally, every single one. The men must cover their fruits of temptation with some sort of Sumo diapers, but Arnold is wearing a thong. You will remember it forever. Or at least until his shower scene 45 minutes later.

Of course, a movie this right-wing is never going to be able to contain it‘s gayness to a mere bathhouse wrestling match. Belushi talks about nothing other than dicks and jerking off. Arnold mentions his parakeet, Belushi talks about jerking off. Arnold leaves Belushi in a tight spot, Belushi talks about having his dick in his hand. He also calls a black guy he meets in prison a ―jazz bull.‖ I‘m not sure what that means, but I think I get the gist of it. The only time Belushi stops talking about dicks is to ogle a nurse and remark, ―I knew I should have been a doctor!‖ The nurse turns out to be a man in disguise.

Corpse Count: 19. Almost all of them are gunned down. Even Viktor, the main bad guy, is shot in vanilla fashion.

Novelty Death: I guess getting the Harry Shipman treatment from a Russian mobster dressed as a female nurse while a cop checks out the ass of said nurse/hitman is pretty novel. That‘s what happens to a snitch.

Was There a Stupid Chief? Yes, played by Peter Boyle. He uses the phrase ―loose cannon‖ in reference to Arnold‘s character. But he‘s a smart Stupid Chief. He knows that he can allow Arnold to loose cannon it up in pursuit of the criminal, but The Chicago PD will escape legal problems if anything goes wrong because Arnold is a cop from a foreign country. That‘s how it works, right?

Post-Mortem One-Liner: ―Don‘t get any on your shoes.‖ - the cops cleaning up a pile of dead bodies that Arnold has made.

How bad was it really? This is the film in which Arnold sounds most like McBain, which is to say he sounds exactly like McBain. To the point that I‘d wager that Red Heat inspired that voicework on The Simpsons. So that adds another level of entertainment. Red Heat is pretty well put together and touches on every 80s Action theme, though the level of violence is below average. But this is compensated for by a climactic scene in which a bus chases another bus through the streets of Chicago until the first bus is hit by a train.

What You Learned: Belushi and his partners arrest these guys with pounds of cocaine but they walk because of an illegal warrant, with ―a handshake from the judge.‖ This includes a guy who fires a shotgun at the cops at least five times before being caught. So if the police ever come to your house with an illegal warrant, it‘s not against the law to murder them.

Over The Top: Separating Fact From Fiction By John Gautreaux

Hey guy, you like big trucks? Sure you do! What about arm wrestling? Crazy about it huh! Well I‘ve got the movie for you: Over the Top, starring Sylvester Stallone. With the same tact and skill that Gigli combines Baywatch and the mafia, this flick combines arm wrestling and 18-wheelers. But before we even get into all that, I want to dispel some common about truck driving. I actually worked as a long haul trucker, so I‘d like to shed a little light on some of the horse shit this movie tries to shovel.

Movie: The scene opens with Sly pushing his big rig through some of America's most pristine landscapes. Alone with his thoughts, working for himself, and detached from society, some loose idea of freedom is expressed here. Here is a man who looks unchained, realized…happy. He is not bound by the same 9-5 hours like the rest of us working stiffs. Here is a man who lives by his own rules.

Fact: A trucker‘s life is hardly anything like that: enslaved to the terminals that dictate loads, beholden to the shippers and receiver‘s hours, whims, and demands. Stifled by fuel prices, inconvenienced by accidents and road closures, corralled into roadside truckstops with some of the most reprehensible scum America has to offer. What the casinos and lot lizards won‘t wrestle away from you, surcharges and maintenance fees will. It‘s a sucker‘s life. America is only seen through the interstate in brief glances. Time is money. Home is the inside of a rumbling beast racing towards nowhere, and before you know it, you won‘t know what it‘s like to eat a meal or fuck a woman you didn‘t pay for.

Movie: Stallone and his fellow truck drivers are mostly ultra-buff macho men, beefcakes filled with hairy machismo, poised to stomp out pansies and become kings on greaseball mountain. They live by their own code and maintain an air of nobility and respect through it all. Anchored by the tenants of hard work and common sense, truckers are indeed worthy of admiration. Fact: Truckers are largely a brotherhood of obese, old weaklings with chronic back pain who wouldn‘t piss on each other if on fire, an ethos of grumpy, old dirtbags, disconnected from society. Spending 22 hours a day alone, they are conditioned to be ill-mannered control freaks, shouting obscenities at each other about parking spaces while perched inside their medal boxes. They largely just want to be left in their own filth to eat biscuits and hot dogs while listening to talk radio. Their blood pressure and IQ levels passed each other on the highway to erectile dysfunction years ago, and it‘s too late to turn back now. The road has a depressing, hypnotic effect over the years. Behind every curve is just more curves. Each hiss of the airbrakes becomes a subtle reminder that no one ever really loved you, ever.

With all that said, now we can get to the movie!

Sly, with moistened biceps and a can-do attitude, washes down his truck after making a load. He then tucks in his shirt, drives to his son‘s military academy and demands custody of the boy, who is 12 years old and has never seen him before. The boy is released, and Sly is charged with transporting the little fella to his mom‘s hospital bed. This will be the most important load of Sly‘s life…and the little boy‘s too.

It gets a little pedo-erotic at times. As the boy gets into the truck, there are dozens upon dozens of pictures of him everywhere. As far as the boy can tell, he‘s inside a shrine of himself. The whole thing is very creepy and complex; the truck becomes a metaphor for a giant, comforting testicle. All the little boy‘s pictures represent tiny sperm inside the humongous nad. This is about male on male bonding, father and son, inside the ballsack, delivering the load to the mother, who waits patiently in her bed. Not to mention the truck probably actually smells like ballsack, so there‘s that.

The first place Sly takes the kid is into a bar, which is pretty responsible. They order some healthy food though because the kid is an effeminate stick in the mud and worried about calories. The lil dude even wanted some sparkling spring water or some shit. I hope his military academy taught him about the don‘t ask don‘t tell laws.

Sly then has to arm-wrestle some guy named Smasher. It‘s horrible. I never really thought about how dumb the whole arm-wrestling thing is: You grab onto a dude real tight, look him in the eyes, and then you both start sweating and grunting while others look on in excitement. I couldn‘t think of anything I‘d want to do less, except maybe drive a truck.

And to bond some more, he persuades the kid to sleep in the truck with him that night. By the way, Sly is the only long haul trucker I ever saw ride around in a day-cab, which means that there is no sleeper in the back. Just him and the kid up front, sprawled all over each other, with the kid‘s pictures everywhere, them smelling like nuts and steaming up the windows as the kid‘s future SAT scores plummet.

By the way, the kid‘s grandfather is like a millionaire who lives in a mansion, wants the kid educated, cultured, and healthy, but somehow is the bad guy because he wants to take the little guy away from Sly, who walked out on the kid years ago.

As they are in some seedy truck stop diner, Sly spots the most white-trash kid there, a sleeveless Cleetus with a mullet who is just owning a fucking pinball machine. Sly goes over there and demands this inbred arm-wrestle his son. The mullet kid gladly agrees and talks some shit and they go at it right there on top the pinball machine, like in The Accused. Mullet kid does the damn thing and slams Sly‘s boy into failure, right where he belongs. Then, Sly and his crying, dejected kid have a father-son and the little dude goes back in and whips mullet guy twice in a row. So far, the kid has learned about failure, redemption, and scabies, all in one day. Father of the fucking year, people.

But during all that dicking around: setting up child arm-wrestling matches, working out, letting the kid drive, and other white trash nonsense, the kid‘s mom dies in the hospital before the kid can get there to say goodbye. You had one job, Sly, one fucking job. So the boy doesn‘t get to see his mother off, and he realizes his dad is an epic fuck-up, so he goes back to live with his grandfather. The movie should have ended there.

But it didn‘t. Sly‘s white-trash gene kicked in, to overdrive! He takes his truck and smashes over grandpa‘s iron gate, through his fountain, and straight into his mansion, knocking the door off its frame. Then, the cops come and take Sly away while he pleads for his son to come with him. The kid now has to watch his dad be cuffed and stuffed into a police cruiser after driving an 18-wheeler through his living room the day after his mom‘s funeral. Kids love stuff like that.

Ding Dong, who ordered the truck?!

Sly is released from jail, contingent on his agreement to give up the custody fight and let the loving, mega-rich grandfather raise the kid. The kid persuades Sly to take the deal, as the little guy starts to see him as we do: a good-natured buffoon of a man who has the wild idea of raising a child from the passenger seat of a day-cab, building a life together with gears and biceps as the bricks and ballsweat as the mortar. It‘s obvious, Sly won‘t ever have time to park it, take a cab into NYC, and walk into the Metropolitan Museum of Art and marvel at the Georgia O‘Keefe exhibit. He‘s not that kind of guy. This is all for the best. The movie should have ended there, but it doesn‘t.

Sly goes to Vegas for the word series of arm wrestling or whatever it‘s called. He pawns his truck and puts all of the money on a 20/1 underdog: himself! Also, the winner of the competition gets a brand new truck, which is convenient. The opposite of that would be giving away a free tax break to whomever has the prettiest sailboat. While warming up, the announcer‘s voice beams from overhead, ―This is a double-elimination tournament! In other words, if you lose, you still have another chance!‖ Wow, I thought double elimination meant something else. Thanks for clearing that up.

Then, for reasons unknown, the 12 year old steals a truck, drives to the airport, catches a plane, flies to Vegas, and makes it to the arm wrestling arena, just in time to be reminded again by the announcer, that this is a double elimination tournament. Ok, that‘s called foreshadowing, and so is this: Sly uses his winnings to buy the Brooklyn Bridge and a beta-max factory.

While Sly is getting loose, we are reminded once again from the announcer that, ―this is a double elimination tournament, which means if you lose once…you have to repeat the 5th grade.‖ Seriously movie? Seriously!? It‘s baffling. I counted how many times they drive this point into the ground. It‘s five. Five times they tell us. We get it. Five freaking times. That‘s one more than four! Fucking Christ!

Sly‘s main foe is a guy named Bull Hurley, a 300 pound, no-nonsense arm-wrestling god. Undefeated, which means he has never been defeated. Nobody ever beat him. He never lost an arm wrestling game. To anyone. He always wins. He never loses. God this movie is making me dumber.

Sly, explaining his technique to the camera, in the way an eight-year-old talks to a goldfish, goes, ―what I do is I take my hat and turn it around, it‘s like a switch that goes on. I feel like a truck. Like a machine.‖ So we get it: backwards hat Sly is an arm wrestling, truck machine. Frontwards hat Sly is a boy-cuddling, load-driving half-wit. Totally not the same guy.

Sly then loses a match or a game or a contest or whatever it‘s called to a bearded guy named Grizzly, but guess what, it‘s a double elimination tournament!! They tell us again, just so everybody is clear on that. The kid gives Sly some pep talk and then Sly is ready to go out there and win. For the championship he has to arm wrestle Bull Hurley, who has never been defeated. He‘s undefeated. Sly beats him and all the dramatic music is going on and they give him the trophy, but that‘s bullshit because, according to my calculations, that is the first time Bull Hurley has lost, and this is a DOUBLE ELIMINATION TOURNAMENT, which means you have to stand up, punch yourself in the dick and run head first into the fucking TV. Nothing here makes sense.

To top it off, Sly and his 12 year old kid, who is smart as a whip, decide to start a trucking company together with the winnings. Glad to see the kid not wasting his potential. Father of the fucking year. I hate this movie. I‘m actually glad my dad was mostly an absentee father who really didn‘t take any kind of active roll in my life. The reason I became a truck driver was because of Jack Burton in Big Trouble in Little China; they never hid from the fact that Jack was a gutter-dwelling scumbag who only cared about himself, and that trucking was an ignoble, silly way for an able bodied man to make a living, but this fucking movie glorified it to the point of stupidity. I give it two glow plugs down. The Art of Sylvester Stallone By Juan Konstantin

[A Portrait of The Artist as a Young Sly]

Sylvester Stallone has been a painter since before he was Rocky Balboa. Galleries in three continents so far (Miami; Zürich; St. Petersburg, Russia) have hosted exhibitions of his work. He has major art world credibility because he once had Andy Warhol take his headshot, which is sort of like having Wolfgang Puck microwave you a burrito, or having Sylvester Stallone spot you on the 135 pound bench press.

Stallone‘s brushwork style has been compared to Abstract Expressionism. That is a generous assessment, though no one would be brash enough to pigeonhole his vision with such a limiting classification. Some of his paintings are objectively hideous, resembling a mutant cross between a Jackson Pollock and a century-old Picture of Dorian Gray with semi-random text vomited onto the canvas:

But what else would one expect considering these watercolors & mixed-media works are extensions of the creative genius that embodied Rambo, the greatest sociopath ever depicted on film?

[Stallone‘s O‘Clock Period]

[Stallone‘s Supermen]

[Stallone‘s Rocky Phase transcended cinema.]

[The problem with Jackson Pollock was, he wasn‘t literal enough. The Arts Endure You Whores.]

[miscellaneous]

[Stallone‘s Vaginal Period]

He‘s been at this for so long that it‘s clearly more than a hobby, even if his collection so far doesn‘t merit calling it a legitimate career. That could change with a couple more decades of practice. As Rambo said, nothing is over! You just don‘t turn it off!

Will Stallone ever hang up the easel? Well, when you‘re pushed, painting is as easy as breathing. After all, if he needs more painterly inspiration, if he wants to see a disturbing yet beautiful conglomeration of partial symmetries, meandering squiggly lines, and splotches of scattered color, all Stallone has to do is look in the mirror.

[A Portrait of The Older Sly As Art]

If you somehow bought this book without ever hearing of our website, we have a website! Ruthless Reviews. Just put a .com at the end and you should be able to find it. Matt Cale, John Gautreaux, Erich Schulte, Mike McGowan, Jeremy Derifield, Jason Steadman, Michael Behrens, Miguel Sancho, Devon Pack, Shelby Sherman, Sarah Rhodes and Juan Konstantin are all part of Team Ruthless. We each live in a particular city and do stuff and enjoy certain things. One time we saw a blimp. Most of us use different names on the internet because we are highly respected members of the community who don‘t want to be linked to riff-raff like each other. But this is literature.

Jim Elliot and Emanuel Wazar contributed to this effort by providing their time and expertise for free and we thank them for that generosity.

Hector Enriquez is one of the greatest artists ever to live, which you can tell by looking at the cover of this book.

Our guest contributors are all people we sought out because we know and like their material, so you should check it out. We‘re gonna ask nicely. This time.

Andrew Bonazelli works at DECIBEL, a legitimate metal magazine that uses paper and everything and has an extremely entertaining blog at toweringachievements.com

Thomas Bryce has a blog dedicated to nostalgia, exploitation and schlock and that blog has a consistently entertaining Facebook page: facebook.com/ShitMovieFest

Jon Cross is the man behind After Movie Diner, a podcast which achieves the rare distinction of being a good podcast and a blog covering movies of this and similar ilks: aftermoviediner.com

Jared Latore and Clint Worthington do the Alcohollywood podcast, on which two smart guys invent a drink, get bombed and watch and discuss a movie: alcohollywood.com

Dara Yazdani writes for Exploding Helicopter, which is an excellent blog about movies in which a variety of things explode: explodinghelicopter.blogspot.com