My Cultural Diet

If you’ve been reading Opus for any length of time, then you know I’m a sucker for ’80s ninja movies. I’m talking The Octagon, Enter the Ninja, Rage of Honor, and now, American Ninja. Released by Cannon Films, who played a key role in kicking off America’s “ninja craze,” I ultimately enjoyed this one a lot more than I thought I would. Michael Dudikoff plays an American soldier named Joe who has amnesia (because of course he does) as well as some deadly skills, which come in handy when his convoy’s attacked by ninja-backed terrorists. Does this all reveal a bigger ninja conspiracy? Does Joe win over his C.O.‘s bratty daughter? Does he unlock secret ninja skills that help him fight ninjas with laser guns? Does Steve James (The Warriors, The Brother from Another Planet) steal the show when he goes full Rambo in the final act? I think you know the answers to all of these questions, and if they have you thinking that American Ninja sounds like a good time, then you should probably just watch it.

I can honestly say that the first Sonic the Hedgehog movie, from 2020, was better than I expected. Granted, I went in with pretty low expectations, but it had just the right amount of lunacy, thanks to the overall premise as well as Jim Carrey’s performance as Dr. Robotnik, to be enjoyable. I wasn’t expecting much more from the sequel, which finds Robotnik returning to Earth with the help of the echidna warrior Knuckles to find a magic jewel that will let him rule the universe. Unfortunately, the schtick didn’t work quite as well this time around, even though the film ticked many of the same boxes as the first Sonic film. That said, I did enjoy Idris Elba’s performance as the always serious Knuckles.

This most recent viewing of Highlander highlights the problem with watching cult classics. On the one hand, I see and appreciate all of the reasons why it became a cult classic in the first place, starting with the premise (immortal warriors doing battle throughout the ages). On the other hand, I also see all of the reasons why it failed in the first place. Director Russell Mulcahy certainly piles on the style, from the film’s bravura opening shot set during a wrestling match to copious amounts of noir-ish atmosphere. (I particularly loved the ridiculousness of the hero’s smoky apartment.) And let’s not forget the delightful scene-chewing by Sir Sean Connery as the hero’s mentor, and by Clancy Brown as the villainous Kurgan. Unfortunately, that style never quite transmogrifies into substance, and the constant intercutting between past and present starts to feel heavy-handed over time. In short, I see why Highlander became a cult classic, but it’s just not one of my cult classics. Note: A reboot is currently planned with John Wick’s Chad Stahelski directing and Henry Cavill and Michael Fassbender starring as hero and villain. Which means the stunts and action sequences will be topnotch, though I hope it keeps the fantastical elements, as well.

A spiritual sequel to the ’50s-era TV western series starring Steve McQueen, Wanted: Dead or Alive stars Rutger Hauer as bounty hunter Nick Randall, who’s called on by his former CIA colleagues to stop a terrorist (played by KISS’ Gene Simmons, who’s largely wasted here) from setting off random bombs around Los Angeles. Wanted: Dead or Alive’s main problem is that it’s never sure what sort of movie it wants to be. Is it a cat-and-mouse game between bounty hunter and terrorist? A conspiracy thriller where you’re never quite sure who to trust? An existential treatise about a man living on the edge? Wanted: Dead or Alive contains elements of all of the above, and as a result, it’s a rather uninteresting mess. Hauer is watchable as always, though, playing a peak bad-ass ’80s anti-hero. (You know, the kind who gives us insight into his emotional state by shooting his TV with a shotgun.) It doesn’t help that Joe Renzetti’s score lays on the harmonica so thick, it starts to become a self-parody.

It pains me to say this, but I was a bit underwhelmed by Vengeance Most Fowl. It is, of course, as pleasant and jovial as any Wallace & Gromit title could be, but I suspect therein lies the problem. Not that I want a “gritty” Aardman title, mind you, but seeing as it’s a sequel of sorts to 1993’s The Wrong Trousers — which boasts one of the greatest chase sequences in cinema history — Vengeance Most Fowl just doesn’t quite have the same pizzazz. Wallace and Gromit’s latest escapade hits all of the expected moments (e.g., wacky inventions going awry, Wallace’s blissful naïveté, Gromit’s expressive disgruntlement), and it features the return of the dastardly Feathers McGraw, but it’s never more than the some of its parts. What’s more, I don’t think it contains a single Wensleydale reference.

Taron Egerton and Jason Bateman match wits in this perfectly serviceable and enjoyable thriller from Netflix. Egerton is a young TSA agent who’s blackmailed by Bateman’s mercenary into allowing a suspicious carry-on to pass through the baggage scanner. Jaume Collet-Serra’s Carry-On checks all of the expected thriller boxes. You’ve got an affable everyman put in an impossible moral conundrum. A ruthless villain who’s always one step ahead. Some out-of-left-field twists and hints at a bigger conspiracy. A constant sense of “OK, but how’s he going to get out of this one?” And, as an added touch, a Christmas Eve backdrop for some holiday spirit. There’s nothing groundbreaking about Carry-On, but then again, it’s not trying to reinvent the genre. Rather, it just cares about keeping you entertained and guessing, especially as the hero’s plight gets increasingly improbable, and it succeeds quite well.

I read and enjoyed Andy Weir’s The Martian several years ago. I described it as a novel that makes you feel smarter as you read it thanks to all of the technical and scientific detail that Weir packs into his pages. Thus, it only makes sense for a director of Ridley Scott’s caliber to tackle the movie adaptation, which stars Matt Damon as an astronaut who must somehow survive alone on Mars after he’s inadvertently left for dead. No spoilers here, but you know he’s going to survive, the only question is how; watching The Martian is more about the journey than the destination. This is really Damon’s movie, as his smart-ass character reacts to seemingly insurmountable situations with pluck and dark humor. Meanwhile, all of NASA, as well as his crew, scramble to figure out how to bring him home. Scott’s film, like Weir’s novel, is deeply optimistic about the human spirit, and the grandeur of space exploration. (The film does a fine job of communicating Mars’ grandeur, with gorgeous shots of the planet’s barren landscape.) For what it’s worth, The Martian evoked similar feelings to what I experienced watching space documentaries like Good Night Oppy and the “Cassini” episode of Netflix’s 7 Days Out.

My 14yo and his friend wanted to watch a silly movie. After considering various comedies and “B” movies, we settled on Top Secret!, a war movie parody from the same folks behind Airplane!. With its non-stop barrage of puns, sight gags, double entendres, and slapstick, I thought it’d be a sure hit, but their chief reaction was akin to confusion. I’d like to think that’s because Top Secret! doesn’t quite reach the same comedic heights as Airplane! or even The Naked Gun. But the simple fact is that most of the Cold War-era humor — even the purely visual jokes — flew right over their heads. And never mind the jokes about Mel Tormé, Publishers Clearing House, and Montgomery Ward, or the references to The Blue Lagoon, Casablanca, The Great Escape, and Elvis Presley movies. On the one hand, I get it. On the other hand, it makes me a little sad because my exposure to the ZAZ films was pretty foundational to my sense of humor, and I wonder what, if anything, might be comparable for my kids and their peers.

Commando has everything you could possibly want from a mid-’80s Arnold Schwarzenegger action flick. Cheesy one-liners? Check. Ridiculous displays of strength? Check and check. Over-the-top violence with oodles of explosions and bloody squibs? Check, check, and check. Schwarzenegger’s John Matrix is a former Green Beret who just wants to retire to his mountain cabin and spend time eating ice cream and feeding deer with his daughter (Alyssa Milano). But when she’s kidnapped by mercenaries led by The Road Warrior’s Vernon Wells in all of his scene-chewing glory, Matrix goes on a bullet-filled rampage with the help of Rae Dawn Chong’s hapless stewardess. Commando constantly verges on self-parody, and never more so than when Matrix raids the enemy compound and takes out a small army of the most inept marksmen who ever laced up combat boots. That said, it’s kind of amazing just how good this film still looks in 2024; kudos to director Mark L. Lester and cinematographer Matthew F. Leonetti. And I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention James Horner’s steel drum-infused soundtrack, which only adds to the movie’s frivolity.

Adapted from Hiroshi Sakurazaka’s All You Need Is Kill — which, let’s face it, is an awesome title — Edge of Tomorrow finds Tom Cruise stuck in a time loop after killing a bizarre alien creature intent on conquering Earth. It’s like Groundhog Day if Bill Murray spent his endlessly repeating days learning how to operate a cool mech suit and shoot aliens instead of the ins and outs of charming Punxsutawney. Doug Liman’s movie has plenty of intense, mech-powered action, something we frankly don’t get enough of from Hollywood. Edge of Tomorrow works best, however, in its bleakly comic moments, when Cruise’s character figures out how to use the time loop to his advantage, but only after dying many, many, many times. Same goes for the quieter moments between him and Emily Blunt’s war hero, which highlight the inherently disquieting, and even terrifying aspects of being stuck in a time loop.

By all appearances, Truman Burbank’s life in idyllic Seahaven Island is as perfect as it gets. But he can’t shake an ever-present feeling of discontent, and when bizarre events start occurring — a light falling from the sky, strange radio broadcasts — his world, and psyche, begin to crack. Unbeknownst to Truman, though, he’s actually the star of his own reality TV show, his entire world since birth contained inside a massive Hollywood soundstage. It’s a pretty meta concept that could easily fall into pretension, but The Truman Show succeeds thanks to Jim Carrey’s winsome performance, which veers from comedic to manic to tragic and back again, as well as strong supporting performances from Ed Harris (as the creator of Truman’s televised world) and Noah Emmerich (as Truman’s in-show best friend). Peter Weir’s movie approaches its heady themes with a deft and humorous touch and some wonderfully retro production design, and despite being released over 25 years ago, feels all the more relevant and even prophetic in our current reality TV-obsessed era.

After two undercover narcotics officers are killed by an unknown assailant, the police enlist karate champion Matt Logan (Chuck Norris) to train their officers in hand-to-hand combat. Though reluctant at first, Logan is persuaded after getting a glimpse of the city’s drug problem, but will his training do any good when more officers start dropping? And how will it affect his upcoming championship bout? Released on the heels of Good Guys Wear Black, A Force of One suffers from the same fundamental issue: it lacks any real urgency given its supposedly gritty storyline. At times, the film just seems to meander along, with characters — like Clu Gulager’s police lieutenant — ambling through their scenes. When the inevitable twists happen, it’s all rather meh and relies on characters doing really stupid things. I did like the film’s depiction of the larger karate community, though, as Logan rubs shoulders with his peers and fellow combatants; it makes me wish someone would make a film about the ’70s California karate scene. I also appreciated the fact that, unlike in many of Norris’ movies, his character doesn’t immediately land in bed with the female lead (Jennifer O’Neill) despite their mutual attraction. But the kindest thing that I can say about A Force of One is that it set the stage for one of Norris’ best films, 1980’s The Octagon.

Along with Rumble in the Bronx and Supercop, Mr. Nice Guy was one of the first Jackie Chan movies I ever saw. Though it’s no Police Story or Drunken Master 2, it’s still pretty entertaining in the finest Jackie Chan tradition. (Let’s face facts: the man’s mid-tier work is still twice as entertaining as most movies, if not more so.) Directed by the great Sammo Hung, Mr. Nice Guy has plenty of excellent fights, including a really fun one at a construction site that serves as a prime showcase for Jackie’s acrobatics and trademark prop comedy. Story-wise, though, it’s a mixed bag. Jackie stars a TV chef — who knows martial arts, of course — who gets caught between rival gangs after saving an investigative journalist. The movie is silly for much of its runtime, which means that when Jackie gets desperate after his girlfriend is taken hostage, his newfound intensity just doesn’t quite work given the preceding antics.

I don’t think I’ve watched Gladiator in its entirety since its original theatrical run, though it frequently pops up in memes and Instagram reels. There’s no denying that Ridley Scott’s film is an epic in nearly every sense of the word, and Russell Crowe’s Oscar-winning performance as Maximus Decimus Meridius is still a delight to watch. Crowe gives Maximus a sort of world-weary dignity and gravitas that’s quite affecting, especially during the early scenes with his troops. On the other hand, Joaquin Phoenix’s scene-chewing as Commodus has not aged as well, and is probably more silly and comedic than Ridley Scott intended. Also, we’re so used to epic battle scenes these days thanks to CGI that Gladiator’s Colosseum battles seem surprisingly small-scale by comparison even with all of the impressive production design.

Five years after his elite commando team was all but wiped out in a mission gone sideways, Major John T. Booker (Chuck Norris) has moved on from his time in Vietnam. But after meeting a nosy reporter (Anne Archer) who knows more than she should, he learns that his fellow survivors are being assassinated as part of a conspiracy whose roots lie in the highest levels of the American government. Considered by Norris to be his breakthrough film, Good Guys Wear Black taps into the same Vietnam-era cynicism that fueled movies like Three Days of the Condor and The Parallax View. However, Good Guys Wear Black never drums up the gripping intensity that its storyline so badly wants to suggest. The film is undermined by meandering and preachy dialog, a Blaxploitation-lite soundtrack that’s downright goofy at times, and some obvious budgetary limitations. There’s the requisite martial arts action, of course, but director Ted Post fails to capture Norris’ roundhouse kicks in all of their glory. (The stunt where Booker jumps through the windshield of an oncoming car is pretty boss, though.) The resulting film is more cheesy than anything else, which is a shame because the stuff it’s concerned about — e.g., unchecked government power, expedient political compromises — are just as relevant today, if not more so.

Much like 2022’s Interceptor, Trigger Warning is entertaining and just OK — no more, no less. I mainly watched this Netflix original because it’s on Polygon’s list of 2024’s best action movies. Jessica Alba acquits herself well enough as a government operative who returns home after her father dies under increasingly mysterious circumstances. Will her elite military training come in handy when she discovers a bigger conspiracy? If you don’t already know the answer to that question, then this movie probably isn’t for you. I do find the title somewhat amusing; with its Hispanic lead and right-wing villains (who, in one scene, struggle with the pronunciation of “Latinx”), Trigger Warning might be a little, ahem, triggering for those who typically deride the concept of “trigger warnings.” That said, if you want to watch a movie about a soldier who puts the smack down on some small town villainy, stick with the far superior Rebel Ridge.

If you weren’t a prepubescent boy in the late ’80s, then I’m not sure I can fully explain the nostalgic appeal that Bloodsport holds, even with its considerable flaws. (Starting with the fact that the “true story” it’s based on is dubious at best.) I was 12 years old at the time, and my friends and I discussed the film’s depiction of an illegal martial arts tournament with a hushed reverence, to say nothing of Jean-Claude Van Damme’s fighting prowess. Watching it now, more than thirty years later, the flaws are more obvious and some of the nostalgic sheen has worn off. Even so, Bloodsport’s still a pretty darn enjoyable “B” movie. As I’ve written before, it’s easy to slag on Van Damme, but his legitimate martial arts skills do enable him to do some pretty impressive-looking stuff on-screen. This time around, though, I was really struck by the film’s moodiness: the soft-focus cinematography, some legitimately stunning shots of Hong Kong at night, and most of all, Paul Hertzog’s synth-heavy soundtrack. Predating synthwave by several decades, his music really sets the movie’s vibe with high-energy tracks during the kumite fight scenes as well as more lowkey pieces like “Kumite,” “Flashback Montage,” and “On My Own” (which has the added bonus of vocals from Stan “The Touch” Bush).

Here’s a movie from 1994 in which the villain is a presidential candidate who claims a good president is someone “so rich he doesn’t have to listen to anybody” and who’s popular with both pro-life/pro-death penalty voters and the anti-immigration crowd. That probably did seem wildly fantastical 30 years ago, but here in 2024, it hits a bit too close to home. (Did someone travel back in time to write this script?) Regardless, Timecop’s a pretty entertaining mid-’90s action film by Peter Hyams starring the one and only Jean-Claude Van Damme. (The duo also made the also-entertaining Sudden Death in 1995.) Van Damme’s cop character is tasked with traveling in time to prevent bad guys from messing up the present, which inevitably brings him into conflict with the aforementioned money-grubbing villain (played with all requisite sliminess by Ron Silver). Being a Van Damme film, I wish the fight scenes hadn’t been so heavily edited — they almost resemble the Bourne movies at times — but the Muscles from Brussels delivers an engaging performance, the visual effects hold up pretty well after 30 years (with one notable exception), and there are flashes of visual panache that’s sorely lacking from modern action movies.

First off, I did enjoy the tokusatsu action on display here, what with all of the creature suits and practical effects. This is 1991 we’re talking about, so advanced CGI was still in its infancy and really only accessible to big budget blockbusters (e.g., James Cameron’s Terminator 2: Judgment Day, which was also released in 1991). The creature suits, while certainly cheesy, were kind of refreshing to see (though the racial and sexual stereotypes displayed on some of the suits have not aged well at all). Unfortunately — and I know this will seem obvious about a film featuring people in alien creature suits battling each other with martial arts — The Guyver is just way too slight and silly. Be it the Keystone Cop routines, Jimmie Walker’s (of Good Times fame) rapping, the chintzy soundtrack, or the godawful dialog, this is prime “Grade A” MST3K fare. Or at least it should have been. David Gale clearly had a blast chewing up the scenery as the main baddie, and Mark Hamill tried to give his CIA agent character some hard-boiled dignity, but their efforts are largely wasted. Fortunately, director Steve Wang would go on to make the much more enjoyable Drive, starring Mark Dacascos, in 1997.

Originally intended to be a John Woo/Johnnie To co-production starring Chow Yun-fat, Andy Lau, and Tony Leung, Twilight of the Warriors: Walled In fell into development hell for a couple of decades until it was resurrected by director Soi Cheang. And I’ll be honest, knowing something of the film’s backstory, I can’t help but imagine what might’ve been. Cheang’s film clearly seeks to recapture the glory days of Hong Kong cinema, but its tale of rival gangs battling over Kowloon Walled City, and the mysterious young refugee who sets in motion calamitous events, is ungainly and over-stuffed. There’s plenty of action, and some of it’s pretty awesome, but the setting of Kowloon Walled City — at one point, the world’s most densely populated spot — is so fascinating that I was more curious about the stories of the side characters inhabiting its labyrinthine corridors. (On a sidenote, Twilight of the Warriors: Walled In is a masterclass in set and production design.) Indeed, the movie’s final scenes of its inhabitants going about their jobs and daily routines sans any gang violence or wire and CGI-enhanced martial arts proved much more interesting than the action sequences.