CHUCK'S ROUNDHOUSE: Silent Rage (1982)

They are the two genres I think of whenever memories of slightly disreputable video stores come to mind. I have no actual proof to go on here and my personal preferences might be clouding my judgement. However, if you ask me, the Ma and Pa rental places were built on the back of low-brow horror and cheap action movies. These are the most blue collar of movies. Back in the eighties and early nineties, you could probably sell five thousand units with simple ingredients. All you need for one is a decent location and a little fake blood. All you need for the other is one guy who can kick higher than his head. Filmmakers had been getting their action chocolate in people's horror peanut butter since Maciste went to Hell. The broad appeal among the video renting public of these two styles meant proper cross-pollination was inevitable. As far as I can tell, the first big American action star to lend his fighting prowess to a stab-stab-knife movie was Chuck Norris in “Silent Rage.” This has made the film a minor cult fave among fans of both demographics. I've written about it before but it's been long enough that I think a revisit is in order. 

John Kirby is having a hard time. His mind is a wasp's nest of violent thoughts and agitation. The apartment he's staying in is occupied by screaming kids, a bickering land lady, and screeching music. After making a panicked call to his shrink, Kirby finally snaps. He takes an axe to the other residents. Sheriff Dan Stevens and his incompetent deputy Charlie are soon on the scene. Stevens subdues the now silent and rageful Kirby with his karate moves but it's not enough: The madman is shot down by the other cops. His body is taken to the local hospital and catches the attention of Dr. Spires and Dr. Vaughn. Against the protests of Kirby's psychologist Dr. Halman, Spires and Vaughn pump the not-quite-dead Kirby with an experimental drug. It cranks his immune system to its highest level, causing his wounds to heal within seconds. Unfortunately, the experiments do nothing to cure Kirby of his psychosis and violent tendencies. Spires tries to use Kirby to destroy those that would stop his research but the madman proves too difficult to control. Halman is the brother-in-law of Alison, Stevens' on-again off-again girlfriend. This puts the woman in the path of the murderer, which means the sheriff is going to have to find a way to stop this unstoppable threat. 

Director Michael Miller insists he wasn't a fan of slasher movies and was not thinking about “Halloween” when making “Silent Rage.” He instead points to “Frankenstein” as his primary inspiration. While I don't believe him that John Carpenter's classic wasn't a point of reference at all, the Frankensteinian elements are intentional and unavoidable. The words “Dr. Stein” are even said by someone. Steven Keats as Dr. Spires repeatedly says that he believes the advancement of science is more important than any moral concerns. Dr. Halman repeatedly points out that doing a Weapon X on a spree killer is extremely unethical, not to mention obviously unwise. Spires, meanwhile, is too preoccupied with the could've and does not consider the should've. Hysteria over what science has wrought in its hubris surely seemed as old hat as can be in 1982. However, “Silent Rage” attacks the idea with such sincerity that it honestly worked for me. 

If one were to break down the percentages, you would probably find that “Silent Rage” is more slasher than it is action movie. The sequences devoted to the killer hunting and dispatching his intended victims probably take up more of the runtime than the brawls. Despite dismissing any connection to the stalk-and-slash style, director Miller and his team are competent at it. We get more than a few Michael Myers-like point-of-view shots of the killer watching his targets. A mild degree of tension is generated in these moments, the viewer wondering when Kirby might finally strike. There's a smidge of that small town isolation, that late-at-night eeriness, in the tracking shots through a darkened home or an empty hospital. 

While not especially gory by the standards of these things, I do think the film handles the grue nicely as well. A sequence where Kirby emerges suddenly and strikes a head against a wall with killing force is extremely well done. Brian Libby, previously of a small part in “The Octagon,” wears a fairly silly cleansuit throughout most of the movie. Otherwise, he simply looks like a guy. Probably needed a spiffy mask or a hook hand or something. Nevertheless, Libby has the frame and the intimidation factor necessary to make a decent villain. No explanation is provided for why this rage is silent but Libby has the dead-eyed stare and the occasional unhinged smirk down. 

The public perception of the slasher film is that they are nothing but mindless violence. In actuality, the most lovable slashers tend to quietly hang out with their characters long enough for the audience to get a sense of their vibe, if not their personalities. “Silent Rage” does this as well and it's maybe the motion picture's secret weapon. After being complacent in creating an immortal murder machine, Dr. Halman goes home to his wife. She is a painter, gives him a glass of wine. The two order a pizza together. The reliable charm of an actor like Ron Silver is a big reason why this moment feels so comfy and lived-in. However, it goes a long way to make you care about what may or may not happen to these characters. Similarly, the third scientist involved in this is a nothing character that is elevated by the oddball energy William Finley brings to it. That's the kind of thing you would hire William Finley for. It's not a lot. Slasher films are not built on “a lot” but rather a little and these are the exact components fans like to see.

 

The dominant side of “Silent Rage's” brain certainly belongs to its horror instincts. However, this is still a Chuck Norris flick. It is, in fact, the first of his motion pictures in which he puts on a cowboy hat, shit-kickin' boots, and a big ol' belt buckle. Combined with his unexplained karate expertise and its Texas setting, the roots of “Walker, Texas Ranger” are starting to show. Much like the future TV show, this element of the film is corny with extra kernels. Stephen Furst plays Charlie, the comic relief sidekick, and he has barely turned the volume down from his performance in “Animal House.” This is a ridiculous character, an overgrown child that is utterly stunned by a sight of some boobies, completely delusional about his own abilities, and incapable of doing anything right. The romantic subplot, meanwhile, is conveyed with no less seriousness. Norris and Toni Kalem have an awkward, combative chemistry. He's not quite able to sell the smooth lines but, somehow, it works in the film's favor. This is good, as they spend most of their scenes together in bed. Most prominently in a romantic montage set to a seriously syrupy love song. 

The hokiness extends to the context around the action scenes. In order to give Chuck more warm bodies to beat, a cartoonish motorcycle gang rides into town to cause trouble. Much like Charlie's bizarre confession to freezing his childhood dog alive, this scene contributes nothing to the overall plot. Not that I mind because it's a surprisingly effectively piece of fight choreography. Chuck repeats the gag of splitting a pool cue and using the broken wood as a weapon, while delivering some fast piece kicks and punches. It concludes with the delirious sight of a motorcycle flying through a window, the kind of imagery eighties action movie legend is built upon. While most of Norris' action beats are isolated to a few scenes, the central gimmick of “Silent Rage” provides a new angle to the familiar fisticuffs. This is an enemy Norris can't beat into submission. John Kirby gets Michael Myers-shot out a window, dragged behind a moving vehicle, set on fire, takes all the roundhouse kicks to the face and it only annoys him. While Chuck Norris was never much of a thespian, he does a good job of conveying that desperation. It's novel to see the action star up against a threat that actually outclasses him. 

“Silent Rage's” uneven split between two different types of low-brow entertainment means it might not please everyone. If you are here strictly for the action, you might walk away disappointed. Slasher nuts, however, are used to keeping their expectations low. Which means we are more than satisfied with a competently executed body count thriller that has the bonus of including some silly Chuck Norris theatrics. That many of the additional elements are extra silly on their face only makes this a more delicious camp stew. Like most of the murder movies that followed in Michael Myers' path, “Silent Rage” ends by promising that its deathless killer will return. Like the majority of slasher flicks that flooded theaters in-between 1980 and 1983, no sequel followed. “Silenter Rage” wasn't in the card. However, I think this genre hybrid remains a fascinating idea and could probably support a remake. Get Jason Statham or Scott Adkins up against another speechless super-killer and I bet I'll have a good time with it. Every guy famous for kicking folks in the head should fight a monster or two in his career. “Silent Rage's” all-timer of a tagline – “Science created him, now Chuck Norris must destroy him” – works just as well with any martial artist slotted in. [7/10]

[THE CHUCK OF NORRIS: 4 outta 5]
[X] Facial Hair
[] Jumps or Kicks Through a Window or Wall
[X] Performs Spin Kick or Spin Punch to Enemy's Face
[X] Shows Off His Hairy Chest
[X] Sports Some Cowboy Getup