CHUCK'S ROUNDHOUSE: Hero and the Terror (1988)

While writing about “Silent Rage,” I pointed out how horror and action movies appeal to similar audiences, leading to inevitable crossovers between the two. The slasher movie had such a grip on the eighties that depictions of serial murderers that didn't invoke “Halloween” and its ilk at least a little bit became hard to find. Similarly, Reagan-era audiences were so used to movie cops being shoot-first, ask-questions-later lone wolves that cause lots of unnecessary collateral damage  that otherwise grounded depictions of the police still frequently used some of these tropes. Since cops ostensibly investigate killers, this meant action movies with horror villains became an identifiable phenomenon later in the decade. I guess it's possible they were all simply ripping off “Dirty Harry” but I always think of Stallone's “Cobra,” as stock-parts an eighties action movie as you can find that inexplicably becomes a slasher flick at random intervals, as what popularized the idea. Pretty much every big action star has done one movie such as this but Chuck Norris actually did two. After going toe-to-toe with a silent but raging killer in 1982, Chuck would play the hero against some terror in 1988's “Hero and the Terror.” 

Officer Danny O'Brien pursued Simon Moon – a lumbering, brutish serial killer who murders women with his bare hands – to his pier side lair. In the ensuing struggle, O'Brien is nearly killed but Moon falls from a ladder, leading to his capture. O'Brien, dubbed “Hero” by the press, gets the credit for catching the killer the media was calling The Terror. Three years later, O'Brien is still haunted by nightmares of the murderer while trying to start his life over, by convincing his pregnant girlfriend, Kay, to marry him. That's when Moon escapes from his prison cell, steals a van, and seemingly drives it off a cliff side. The Terror is presumed dead but O'Brien is not so sure. When new victims, barring Moon's trademark style of killing, begin to crop up around a recently restored old movie theater, O'Brien is more certain than ever that the Terror is back at it again. Will he be able to find the killer's new hiding spot, stop the madman, convince his boss he's right, and win his baby mama's hand in marriage?

After making Braddock a dad in “Missing in Action III” and trying out comedy in “Firewalker,” it was clear that Chuck Norris was trying to prove he could be more than just a kicking machine. “Hero and the Terror” represents the star's most concentrated effort yet to show off his (acting, not karate) chops. He's having sweaty, bare-chested nightmares about his encounter with the killer. He's feeling guilt over getting credit for a victory that he knows he doesn't deserve and desperately wants to prove himself again. Mostly, Chuck spends a large chunk of “Hero and the Terror” flirting and bantering with Brynn Thayer as Kay. They get romantic in her apartment, he tells her she's beautiful, takes out for dinner as she gets pregnant-lady-emotional, and even faints from nerves as she goes into labor. I've commented all throughout this retrospective that I actually like Norris as a romantic lead. He is charming enough here, having decent chemistry with Thayer and hitting most of his dramatic beats semi-convincingly. At the same time, expecting audiences to watch ninety minutes of Chuck Norris being domestic, with limited fighting in-between, is perhaps asking a lot. 

While it would be untrue to say “Hero and the Terror” doesn't feature Norris doing the things he's best known for, action theatrics are truly only one part of what the film is attempting to do. The scenes focused on the murderous antagonists are right out of a horror flick. Jack O'Halloran, better known as Non in “Superman II,” plays the villain entirely silent save for yells and grunts. He is a tall, stocky beast of a man whose face is kept in the shadows, as if it's going to be revealed that he's deformed or something. His doctor talks like there's a psychological reason driving his compulsion to kill and O'Brien makes mention of how one female victim was left to be found because she wasn't “pure.” However, the script provides no actual insight into the villain's mindset. We can only make presumptions about why he drags the dead bodies of those he kills back to a lair, posing them in the nude but pointedly not sexually assaulting them. When combined with Moon snapping his victims' necks with his bare hands, and the sanity-shaking effect his reign of terror has on the hero, the natural conclusion is simple: Simon Moon is less a man than he is a monster, an otherworldly demon made flesh that cannot be explained or reasoned with. 

Director William Tannen got his start in advertising, writing jingles and directing commercials before moving into feature films. This was only his second full feature – he replaced Larry Cohen halfway through production of the Billy Dee Williams vehicle, “Deadly Illusion” – and he's not done much in the horror genre since. However, he proves adapt at the macabre stuff. Surprising and delighting me, “Hero and the Terror” is actually kind of a “Phantom of the Opera” riff. The antagonist hides out in the walled off section of an old movie palace, sneaking through the duct work to attack people in vulnerable places like the rest room. There's a well done sequence where the madman appears in a largely empty auditorium, silhouetted before the screen. The last act makes good use of the behind-the-scenes interiors of a dusty old theater. The cinematographer on-duty here was Eric van Haren Norman, previously a camera operator on “The Burning” and the second and third “Friday the 13th” films. That perhaps accounts for the atmospheric night shoots and moody mist that float through a few scenes. The slow-mo neck crackings are cheesy but, generally speaking, “Hero and the Terror” operates like an okay monster movie. 

This is a good thing, as the action sequences are mostly limited to the beginning and end of the film. The script throws in a sequence of Chuck, undercover as a taco truck employee and amusingly going by “Carlos,” chasing some random thugs around a dock. This feels like the movie capitulating to expectations fans of the film's star might have, as it's the only real sequence of fighting we get before the climax. (Save for a brief though amusing scene where Chuck casually clotheslines a purse snatcher that runs by him.) That finale is good and arguably worth the wait. As in “Silent Rage,” the film gets some mileage out of putting Norris up against an enemy that's bigger and stronger than him. The way O'Brien and Moon slam and kick each other through walls and catwalks, before the fight explodes out onto the roof of the cinema, is well done. All of “Hero and the Terror” is building up to this confrontation and the film is mostly assured in giving us our money's worth after all that waiting. If nothing else, the Terror does get a suitably epic horror villain death. 

I guess I didn't look closely at the back of the DVD case when I popped “Hero and the Terror” in. As the opening credits progressed, my smile grew wider as more of the supporting cast was revealed. Steve James is back as Chuck's sidekick, returning from “The Delta Force.” They get a few amusing exchanges in but, sadly, James' own martial arts skills are not utilized. Then Ron O'Neal's name popped up, making his second appearance in this marathon too. He plays the untrustworthy mayor but, aside from a brief argument with Chuck, doesn't get to show off that Youngblood Priest energy much. Finally, when Billy Drago's name appeared in the credits, I got very hopeful. Cause why put Drago, another character actor with a great bad guy face, in your psycho killer movie and not have him play the psycho killer? Unfortunately, that is indeed what the film does, Drago having a fairly nothing role as the Terror's psychologist. Another reoccurring face is Jeffrey Kramer, once again playing Norris' partner after doing the same kind of role in “Code of Silence.” Good to know the Chuckster was loyal to his boys. 

“Hero and the Terror” ends with a very cheesy love ballad over the end credits, furthering the impression that the film is very seriously trying to sell Chuck Norris as a romantic lead. Another mildly interesting thing about the film is that it's based on a novel by Michael Blodgett, who had some success as an actor – with memorable roles in “Beyond the Valley of the Dolls” and “The Velvet Vampire” – before making the leap to writing. I wonder if the book is more or less insightful into its murderer's motivations? “Hero and the Terror” probably would've been better if it focused solely on the horror elements at play. As an action flick, it is frustratingly short on the kicking and punching. However, it is a nice display for how far Chuck has come as an actor from his earlier credits, I suppose. [6/10]

[THE CHUCK OF NORRIS: 4 outta 5]
[X] Facial Hair
[X] 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
[] Sports Some Cowboy Getup

CHUCK'S ROUNDHOUSE: Braddock: Missing in Action III (1988)

In retrospect, it is both rather odd and quite funny that “Rambo” launched an entire sub-genre of movies inspired by the M.I.A./P.O.W. conspiracy theory. Imagine if Jeremy Renner got super-ripped for a sequel to “The Hurt Locker” and it was an action movie about PizzaGate. And then it became so popular that entire countries pivoted their whole film industries around copying it. While it's fun to imagine that all the Ram-faux features emerging from the Philippines and Italy cut into Cannon's bottom line, Golan and Globus had actually lost their shirts on “Superman IV: The Quest for Peace” and “Masters of the Universe.” Cannon needed a hit badly and, since “Rambo III” was on the horizon, they asked Chuck Norris to go back to Vietnam for a third time. Of course, they called it “Braddock: Missing in Action III,” Cannon clearly hoping their super-soldier could become as much of a household name as Sylvester Stallone's. Chuck wasn't interested at first until his brother Aaron came up with an idea that got his attention. It would be the first feature film directed by Aaron Norris, who had previously worked mostly as a stunt coordinator. Unsurprisingly, most of his future feature credits would also star his big brother. 

The prologue to “Missing in Action III” takes place during the fall of Saigon, revealing that Colonel James Braddock had a previously unmentioned wife named Lin Tan. After an incident involving a friend of her's putting on her bracelet, Braddock is led to believe that his wife is dead. Twelve years later, a missionary tracks him down in a bar and informs him that, not only is Lin Tan still alive, but she was pregnant when Braddock left the country. He has a son half a world away. While skeptical at first, the CIA trying to keep him from going back to Vietnam convinces Braddock it must be true. He sneaks back into the country and is quickly reunited with Lin and Van, the son he's never known. However, he soon runs afoul of Vietnamese General Quoc, who wants the colonel dead. Lin is killed, Braddock is tortured, and his son is taken to a camp where other half-American children are being held captive. Once Braddock gets loose, he unleashes Hell. 

Here's my theory. As early as “Lone Wolf McQuade,” where he questioned the protagonist's use of alcohol, Mr. Norris was mindful of coming across as a good role model to any kids watching his movies. We also know he felt “Invasion U.S.A.” went too far in some nebulous manner. I suspect that the ultra-violence of that film and “The Delta Force” is what inspired him to begin softening his image. After trying out comedy in “Firewalker,” “Missing in Action III” would show the sensitive side of one of Chuck's deadliest hero. It turns out that Braddock, much like Wu-Tang, is for the children. The arc of the third film has the super soldier bonding with the boy who has never met him before. Though skeptical at first, Van is calling him Dad by the time the end credits roll. Braddock endures torture for his off-spring as well. He also tells his wife that he loves her, sharing several emotional moments with her before she goes the way of all of Paul Kersey's exes. To further clarify that Braddock is fighting for family first and country second now, the entire last act has him saving a whole crowd of Asian-American kids left behind in Vietnam. I guess this wouldn't be a “Missing in Action” movie without somebody being freed from a prison camp. 

It's a bit of an odd decision, a character whose primary characteristics up to this point have been a propensity for blowing people up and his hatred of the Vietnamese suddenly having a softer side. However, it's not the oddest decision in the film. It's understandable why the Vietnamese government would be a little miffed at Braddock, since he killed seventy people last time he was in the country. However, “Missing in Action III” seems to take place in some alternate universe where the Vietnam War never ended. The film is explicitly set in 1988, two years after the government began various economic reforms. Relations between Vietnam and the U.S. remained strained, with various embargoes in effect, but that year marked the country officially de-listing America as a foe. Most pressingly, Vietnam was also wrapping up a long lasting and bloody occupation of Cambodia at the time, following decreased military and economic support from the Soviet Union. 

“Missing in Action III,” meanwhile, depicts Vietnam as a country still actively hostile to American forces. The minute Braddock lands in the country, he's being pursued by military forces. The film's villain makes no mention of why he wants Braddock and his family dead. I mean, we can assume it's a reaction to the previous film's events but that's never mentioned. That leads to the question of what's up with that prison camp full of Amerasian children. Mixed race kids faced heavy discrimination after the war and 1988 would see the signing of the Amerasian Homecoming Act, designed to make entrance into the U.S. easier for Vietnamese people with American fathers. Obviously, a trashy sequel is not expected to have an in-depth or thoughtful treatment of a complicated international issue. However, the depiction of the Vietnam War as essentially on-going and mixed race children as prisoners of war is a confusing one. It really gives the impression that the sequel was desperately clinging to any reason to keep this action-packed story line going. 

Which points to a much bigger problem with “Missing in Action III” than historical irrelevance. The narrative simply lacks much in the way of urgency. As in the first film, Braddock goes back to the country of his own accord. There's a passing subplot about the CIA trying to stop him but this is quickly forgotten, leaving the plot without any sort of time limit or deadline to drive tension. It's hard to get attached to Braddock's wife and son, as they are either dead or thrust right into the action shortly after being introduced. The sequel attempts to capture some of the sadistic malevolence of the prequel. Braddick still gets tortured by the bad guy, strapped into a device that'll fire a shotgun at his boy if he stops supporting his own weight. Aki Aleong is clearly attempting to be as viciously evil as Soon-Tek Oh was in “The Beginning.” However, it all feels listlessly executed. Joseph Zito was briefly attached to direct this one before Aaron Norris took his place. I think the film really would have benefited from the same kind of mean-spirited nuttiness seen in “Invasion U.S.A.” Aaron Norris clearly doesn't have that blood lust in him. 

Once Braddock goes on the offensive to rescue his boy, the film barring his name finally starts to pick up some steam. The sequel outfits Chuck's hero with an oversized grenade launcher. He announces its presence by firing it directly into the crotch of a Vietnamese officer who just got done assaulting a teenage girl, the man exploding only after taking a dive out a window. That insane moment sets up a last third full of pyrotechnics and Chuck gunning down countless enemies. Aaron Norris might not have the sadistic instincts of Zito or Lance Hool but he's clearly very fond of shit blowing up and his brother cracking necks. After that fiery nut shot, the second funniest stunt in the film involves Chuck diving through one window, shooting some bad guys, before diving back through another window. There's a decent car chase and an exploding helicopter in there too. 

“Braddock: Missing in Action III” also scores several scenes to a hilariously maudlin, Frank Stallone-esque ballad about the price of liberty and “seeing freedom in your eyes,” whatever the fuck that means. The final, set right across the Vietnam border, suggests that “Braddock” could have been better, more often. Generally speaking, the film feels mostly like a tired retread of the first one, going so far as to include a character suspiciously similar to M. Emmet Walsh as Chuck's sidekick. Perhaps Stallone was smart to send Rambo to Afghanistan for his third outing, rather than back to the jungle. We'll never know if Braddock would consider the Mujahideen fighters brave or gallant, as “Missing in Action III” grossed notably less than its predecessors and no further adventures followed. Considering how many similar action flicks filled the decade, it probably was not necessary to turn this one into a trilogy. I do like that grenade launcher though. [5/10]

[THE CHUCK OF NORRIS: 4 outta 5]
[X] Facial Hair
[X] 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
[] Sports Some Cowboy Getup

CHUCK'S ROUNDHOUSE: Firewalker (1986)

The Cannon Group was always happy to chase trends and cash-in on fads. When disco, poppin' and lockin', rapping, saucy Latin dances and Bo Derek all became crazes, they were there. They have their names on “Rambo” rip-offs, “Mad Max” wannabes, gladiator movies, barbarian flicks, sex comedies, slashers. Of all the blockbusters Golan and Globus emulated, it would seem to me that they were especially fond of Indiana Jones. The first would-be “Raiders” the company was involved with was 1983's “Treasure of the Four Crowns,” which had a giant boulder rolling towards the audience in 3-D. That movie wasn't very successful but it didn't stop Cannon from trying again in 1984 with “Sahara” and 1985 with “King Solomon's Mines.” Their 1986 movie about hunting for lost treasure in a booby trap laden ancient temple was “Firewalker.” The project was apparently at least partially Chuck Norris' idea, who wanted to show his range with a funnier flick. Whether that paid off in the long run is debatable, “Firewalker” does represent a turning point of sorts in the high-kicking star's career. 

Max Donigan is an adventurer fond of tall tales and Leo Porter is his more straight-laced partner, a former history teacher. The two are treasure hunters but they've found less gold than they have enemies that put them in death traps. A woman named Patricia seeks them out and hands them a treasure map, claiming whatever it leads to is valuable enough to kill for. They follow the trail to a cave in the southwestern desert, finding Aztec and Mayan artifacts and a jewel-covered dagger. They discover the dagger is connected to a Native American legend known as the Firewalker. A one-eyed villain named El Coyote, also obsessed with the legend of the Firewalker, is on their trail. The trio soon travel into the Mexican rain forest, on their way to a temple full of danger and rewards. 

The likes of “Invasion U.S.A.” and “The Delta Force” mostly had Chuck Norris squinting, beating up bad guys, and exploding thugs. However, his better films did show that this guy was capable of some folksy warmth or a half-way amusing one-liner, despite his sometimes stiff delivery. “Firewalker” sees Chuck go fully in this direction. Max Donigan is more of a light-hearted figure than the stone-faced killers he's played before. The guy jokes around, tells exaggerated yarns about past adventures, and has frequent belligerent sexual tension with Melody Anderson as the female lead. Some of these moments prove mildly amusing. Such as Chuck suddenly declaring Bigfoot's involvement in a past journey or randomly posing for a photograph. However, the humor in “Firewalker” is often more dire than this. An extended bit involving the trio disguised as clergy aboard a train drags on endlessly, with little wit or energy. Running gags about Max's fear of swimming or inability to shoot a target are listlessly deployed. Despite his best efforts here, Mr. Norris is still far better at cracking skulls than he is cracking wise. 

“Firewalker” would also team Norris with J. Lee Thompson. Thompson's days of directing relatively respectable films like “The Guns of the Navarone” or “Cape Fear” were far behind him by the eighties. He had become Charles Bronson's preferred director during his Cannon years, putting out increasingly misanthropic and sadistic films all throughout the decade. While this one is a lot more light-hearted than “10 to Midnight” or “The Evil That Men Do,” you can still tell J. Lee Thompson directed it. By which I mean there is an undercurrent of sexual menace throughout the film. Max repeatedly calls attention to Patricia's lack of virginity, behavior the film seems to consider charming and not off-putting. Later, while attempting to negotiate with some Central American revolutionaries, a man begins to undress himself and Patricia. While no less cartoonish than the rest of the film, these moments still stick out badly. Though at least Chuck also gets drugged, tied up and nearly murdered by an evil woman too, so at least the film is an equal oppretunity offender. 

Despite the repeated focus on the banter between Norris and Anderson, it never comes together. These two always seem more annoyed with than attracted to each other, their eventual romance being a contrivance of the story. Instead, Max's relationship with Leo proves a lot more compelling. Lou Gossett Jr. is also perpetually annoyed with Max throughout most of the movie. However, no matter how many times his partner gets them both in over their heads or fails to turn up some treasure, Leo comes back to Max. He always corrects Max's outrageous stories, further making the two seem like a bickering old married couple. In the last act, it is Leo that is abducted by the bad guy and most be rescued by the hero, confirming Gossett's role as the story's damsel in distress. A story line that concludes, by the way, with Chuck wrapping his arms and legs totally around Gossett, the two face to face and crotch to crotch as they dangle over boiling water. Gossett is a better actor than Chuck but still can't do much with the deeply corny jokes. However, the latent homoeroticism of the material does add a little more campy value to “Firewalker.”

Perhaps to differentiate itself from other “Indiana Jones” imitators, “Firewalker” sets its story mostly on the North American continent. Which means the film indulges in the ever popular trope of mystical Native American shamanism. On their journey, the heroes meet with an old medicine man. Will Sampson, looking sickly in what would be his final role, adds a little humor to the very stereotypical part. He is still called upon to perform some vague magic over a fire while chanting. The film's antagonist is also Native American, Sonny Landham cashing a check. Whether “El Coyote” is from the northern tribes or MesoAmerican is not specified. This is because the film never acknowledges any difference between the Aztecs, the Mayans, or any other groups. It treats all indigenous beliefs as one vague collection of magical woo-woo. The result is a script whose fantastical elements are never truly explained and never rise to more than plot devices. 

As an “Indiana Jones” knock-off, “Firewalker” is uninspired. There's some standard crawling through rocky tombs and temples. The magical properties of the main MacGuffin, or even what the Firewalker is supposed to be exactly, are never explained. This amounts to a handful of secret passage ways among the various altars. The more obvious “Jones-ian elements are the multiple chase scenes through desserts and jungles, sometimes via a camouflaged Volkswagen Bug. John Rhys-Davis – who was also in “King Solomon's Mine” – also shows up, affecting what I think is supposed to be a Southern or Creole accent in a part not too dissimilar to Sallah. It's no “Temple of Doom,” that's for sure. I imagine that was the main inspiration, given the bad guy's propensity for mysticism and human sacrifice. 

However, the film does not feature any heart-ripping or lava plunges. Chuck Norris was earnestly trying to reinvent himself as a more wholesome sort of hero, the film landing squarely on the PG side of things. He still gets some standard action beats. The bar room brawl is probably the action highlight of the film exactly because it features the roundhouse kicks and spin punches we've come to expect. Thompson seemed very fond of having Chuck do a flying kick towards the camera, something he does twice. The result is a film that ultimately reeks of cheapness and has little of the comedic spark needed to keep itself going. Nevertheless, Chuck trying out a less ultra-violent mood – plus the trappings of Native American spiritualism – would resurface during his “Walker, Texas Ranger” years. That makes the film significant to its star's career, I suppose. These exact qualities are also why my Mom always listed this one as her favorite Chuck Norris joint. Sorry, ma, I think I'll stick with the ones where he's shooting commies or rolling around in the dirt with Dave Carradine. [5/10]

[THE CHUCK OF NORRIS: 5 outta 5]
[X] Facial Hair
[X] 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

 

CHUCK'S ROUNDHOUSE: The Delta Force (1986)

History is a series of chain reactions. On June 14th, 1985, TWA Flight 847 would leave Cairo for Athens, on the way back to San Diego. After landing in Greece, Lebanese Hezbollah member Mohammed Ali Hammadi and an accomplice would produce a pistol and two hand grenades. They hijacked the plane, beginning a hostage situation that would last for seventeen days. Hammadi's demands included the release of the seventeen men who had been involved with the 1983 bombing of the U.S. embassy in Kuwait, the release of Shia Muslim prisoners being held in Israel, the withdrawal of Israeli forces in the then on-going Lebanese Civil War, and the condemnation of the U.S. and Israel. During the seventeen days, the hostages were regularly beaten, those with Jewish sounding last names were especially singled out, and a Navy diver named Robert Stethem was killed. Hostages would slowly be released throughout the crisis until June 30th, when the remaining passenger were finally let go. This resolution was reached through combined efforts from the Lebanese and U.S. governments, the release of the Lebanese prisoners being kept in Israel taking place as part of the negotiations. Hamadei and the other perpetrators would escape, Hamadei not being assassinated until January of 2025 and at least three of the suspected partners remaining at large. 

Obviously, this was a distressing incident for all involved. Obviously, I don't support Hamadei and his cohort's actions, if that needs saying. I also don't support Israel's displacement of the Palestinian people and the on-going genocide. Events like the hijacking of TWA Flight 847 do not occur in a vacuum. Now, why do I bring this up while talking about stupid bullshit like Chuck Norris movies? Well, Norris' employer during the mid-eighties was Menahem Golan, half of the duo that ran the Cannon Group. Golan was a big fan of Israel and its government's actions. In addition to his prolific career as a producer, he was a director himself. In 1977, he had directed “Operation Thunderbolt,” a dramatization of the IDF's covert mission to free Israeli hostages in Uganda. Not even a year after the conclusion of the hostage situation aboard Flight 847, Golan decided to make a movie inspired by this event as well. Despite being based on a very recent international incident, “The Delta Force” would still be operating within the explosion-heavy action genre Golan's company had seen so much success with. Which, yes, meant Chuck Norris had to be there too. The result is a peculiar combination of unabashed Zionist propaganda, grim facts-based drama, and cartoonish action theatrics. 

After a botched operation, in which he rescued two fellow Delta Force members from a crashed helicopter, Captain Scott McCoy would leave the elite task force behind. Five years later, an unassuming American airliner is leaving Cairo. Its passengers are seemingly ordinary people: Two married old Jewish couples, a Catholic priest, a husband and wife and daughter, three Navy divers on vacation... But also aboard are Abdul Rafai and Mustafa, members of a revolutionary organization. They take the plane hostage, beating and segregating the passengers, and begin making demands. After several days, the Delta Force – led by Colonel Alexander, McCoy's old boss – are deployed to resolve the problem. Scott tags along on the mission. After returning to Beirut, the terrorists hide the remaining hostages in the city, leading the Delta Force to track them down. 

“The Delta Force” is essentially two very different movies, rather awkwardly stuck together. The first of which is an intense, grim thriller based on a real incident. Golan and James Bruner's screenplay inconsistently mixes fact and fiction, inventing new names for the actual people who lived through the Flight 847 incident. Hanna Schygulla's role is based on Uli Derickson, the real flight purser who was heavily harassed by the hijackers. Bo Svenson's character is inspired by the actual pilot of the plane and the slain Navy diver is maintained as well. The film is clearly trying to capture a realistic sense of panic, in the multiple scenes of the hijackers angrily threatening the passengers. Golan, to his credit, does a good job of capturing the sense of uncertainty and fear, of these ordinary people being suddenly thrust into a terrifying life-or-death situation. The cramped interior of the jet also helps increase the tension.

 

It plays a lot like a seventies disaster movie, like a grittier “Airport” sequel. This is made all the more true because George Kennedy is here, as the Catholic priest who puts his own life on the line. The cast feels a lot like an Irwin Allen movie, in fact. Aside from Kennedy and Svenson, other slightly washed-up luminaries and up-and-comers present include Shelley Winters, Joey Bishop, Martin Balsam, Robert Vaughn, Kim Delaney, and Susan Strasberg. Yet thrilling escapism is not the primary goal of these sequences. Despite the hijackers being Lebanese in real life, Golan's films pointedly changes them to Palestinians. When they separate the Jewish sounding passengers from the rest of the pack, explicit parallels are made to the Holocaust. Balsam's character is depicted as a camp survivor. Lainie Kazan, very much playing the stereotypical Old Jewish Lady, hides the Hebrew wedding ring she wears for fear of being especially persecuted for it. “The Delta Force” is extremely concerned with the idea that all Jews are always threatened by scary brown people. (Or, in the case of Robert Forster as the ringleader, Americans in brown face.) 
 

The morality of older foreigners coming to this land to take up residence without concern for the local population is never addressed. There are passing references as to why the Palestinians are so pissed off. Avi Loziah, as the most unhinged of the hijackers, mentions to a little girl that he had a daughter her age, emphasis on had. He flies into a rage at the Americans' presence, while Kennedy as the Catholic priest chooses this time to try and correct him on where exactly the USA has dropped bombs in the Middle East. To the surprise of nobody, a proud Israeli nationalist like Golan was not interested in examining the how and why behind the Palestinian rage at the government displacing them and blowing them up. In its more action-packed latter half, “The Delta Force” seems to delight in bloodily dispatching its antagonists. Chuck Norris becomes an avatar for Menahem Golan's Zionist rage, elaborately beating the primary villain in a way that borders on the sadistic.

 

A Chuck Norris movie – or any eighties action movie, for that matter – being militaristic propaganda of dubious moral merit is nothing new. If one pushes this aside, if any indeed such a matter can be pushed aside,  this does become a highly entertaining piece of ridiculous action camp. That is the second movie “The Delta Force” is and very little attempt is made to fuse these two tonally distinct halves. About the first hour of the film is a relatively serious, grounded thriller. From the moment Chuck Norris re-enters the story, it becomes an orgy of explosive action. There are multiple rocket launchers employed. Chuck swings from a zip-line while firing a machine gun. He rides a motorcycle through a stained-glass window. This is after multiple sequences in which rockets are launched directly from said bike. There's a pretty bitchin' fist fight against the steering wheel of a moving truck, Chuck clinging to the outside. A car chase shoot-out combination through the streets of Algiers is also gloriously excessive. As was the standard in eighties action, all the stunts are pulled off effortlessly and thrillingly, probably at great personal risk for the stunt team and coordinators. 
 

What can one say except that this is awesome? While Chuck's performance is more along the lines of the steely, unforgiving killer type seen in “Invasion U.S.A.” than the relaxed charisma of his better films, he still gets a few moments of personality here and there. Such as when he sternly shakes it head at an on-coming foe. He also has decent chemistry with Lee Marvin and Steve James, a tough guy legend in his final role and an up-and-comer following up his sidekick role in “American Ninja.” if “The Delta Force” was only a silly action movie, it would probably be a classic. It's certainly got a kick-ass theme song, courtesy of Alan Silvestri at his most heart-pumping and confidence building. Instead, the unsteady balance between facts-based tension and motorcycle jumping silliness leads to a seriously lumpy pacing. The movie probably needed to space its explosion out a little more, rather than mostly pack them into the back half. [6/10]

[THE CHUCK OF NORRIS: 3 outta 5]
[X] Facial Hair
[X] Jumps or Kicks Through a Window or Wall
[] Performs Spin Kick or Spin Punch to Enemy's Face
[X] Shows Off His Hairy Chest
[] Sports Some Cowboy Getup

CHUCK'S ROUNDHOUSE: Invasion U.S.A. (1985)

There are, interestingly enough, two different movies entitled "Invasion U.S.A." Both are about forces from Communist countries attempting a mass attack on the United States. The first is a terse melodrama from 1952, that depicts this situation as an all-too-possible hypothetical that Americans must be vigilant to guard against. The second "Invasion U.S.A.," on the other hand, is an exaggerated action movie from 1985 in which one super-tough, all-American bad-ass is nearly enough to defeat the Communist forces single-handedly. The contrast says a lot about the difference in how America was feeling about itself in the two eras. In the fifties, shortly after the end of World War II, atomic bombardment and invasion by Soviet forces was horrifyingly plausible. Knee-deep in the Reagan era, America was secure in its position as a superpower and extremely confident that its hyper-macho strength was more than enough to repel any challengers. Both films are propaganda but with pointedly different reactions expected from the viewer. Let's delve into the latter some more, as the 1952 film has a distressing lack of high kicks in it. 

After gunning down a raft of Cuban refugees, a Soviet-backed guerilla named Rostov arrives in Florida. He trades smuggled drugs for heavy artillery, with which he arms a small army of Russian, Latin American, and Asian solders. Rostov's forces begin a full-scale campaign of terror against the Southern United States, annihilating a suburban town and attacking crowded public spaces. While Rostov hopes to dismantled democracy, his scheme has another purpose: To find and destroy his old arch-nemesis, CIA agent Matt Hunter. Hunter, having already lost his best friend and gator farm to the terrorists, personally takes on the invading army. As chaos breaks out throughout the country, only his twin Uzis, indestructible pick-up truck, and extremely tight blue jeans may be enough to stop the violence. 

Norris and his brother, Aaron, would conceive "Invasion U.S.A.'s" screenplay with "Missing in Action" and "An Eye for an Eye" co-writer, James Bruner. It was the first of six films the star would make under a newly minted contract with the Cannon Film Group, commanding the biggest budget of his career. (Two million of which went to Chuck himself.) If any of Norris' eighties films can be said to have emerged directly from his mind, it's this one. The story was inspired by Norris' own fears that America was vulnerable to terrorist attacks backed by hostile superpowers. The villains in "Invasion U.S.A." do not represent a merely tactical threat to this country. They dress as cops and gun down Latin-American businesses, with the intended goal of turning Americans against the police and each other. We hear off-screen mentions of race riots and wide-spread chaos breaking out as a result, martial law being put into effect. These Red Commie Bastards are not only attacking America's infrastructure but attempting to destroy the ideas that build this country as well. 

This is evident in the movie's most histrionic sequences. The villains strike in common places, targeting families and children. They blow up a peaceful suburb and we see children injured in the aftermath. Key sequences have them attempting to destroy a church full of praying Christians and a school bus packed with singing kids. The film is set around Christmas, carols and festive decorations contrasting with the mass violence that ensues. This is done not only because it means shopping malls are full of shoppers but also to demoralize us by destroying a holly, jolly celebration. The terrorists – who are depicted as Soviet, foreign, and directly involved in drug and sex trafficking – in "Invasion U.S.A." are an existential threat to American identity. An identity which is pointedly Christian, capitalistic and submissive to authority. (And, to give Chuck and his team some credit, multiracial. Though the bad guys also being made up of different skin colors, and the local Latin community being so easily invited towards violence, kind of muddies any intentional message there.) "Invasion U.S.A." directly reflects the paranoid, right-wing viewpoint of its leading man, in which innocent red-bloodied Americans who only want to shop and pray to Jesus are under threat by Marxist lunatics determined to undermine everything we hold dear. 

Many people believe these things utterly sincerely, now as then. However, it is difficult to take “Invasion U.S.A.” too seriously. Part of this is because of budgetary restraint. Golan and Globus spent twelve million dollars on the film, quite a lot by Cannon standards. You can certainly see that money up on the screen. The final act features an entire fleet of tanks clogging the streets of Atlanta. When the explosion arrive, they usually of an impressively massive size. At the same time, this siege still seems rather quint by international standards. This is less an invasion of the entire United States than it is several parts of Florida and Georgia. The only credits play out over Chuck sailing across the Everglades in an air boat, his glorious locks blowing in the breeze. This clarifies early on that, by “U.S.A.,” the title is referring more to the rural corners of this country, rather than the centers of its economic and political power. The final battle takes place mostly inside a non-descriptive office building, with some bloody squabbling on the street below. In many regards, “Invasion U.S.A.” got a proper amount of bang for the buck expended. At the same time, the film's scope falls far short of what it is clearly meaning to intend. 

The other reason one can laugh at such blatant, fairly unhinged propaganda is the degree of ridiculousness that infest every aspect of it. Joseph Zito is back in the director's chair again, after “Missing in Action,” and he indulges in even more orgiastic displays of pyrotechnics. The suburban neighborhood and shopping malls were real locations about to be demolished and refurbished, meaning the production team were allowed to truly blow them up. The fireballs are massive, the debris tossed into the air generous, the flames consuming a helicopter and multiple embankments. One notable blasts has a burst of flame coming through a wall and right at the viewer. Every time Chuck fires his machine guns, there's a spray of bullets, sparks, and bloody squibs. At one point, he blows through an entire wall with some bullets. Lots of stuntmen earned their pay by tumbling through the air. Multiple car chases and crashes ensue, the camera often attached right to the sides of the careening vehicles and proudly displaying the twisted wreckage hurdling towards us. The film's mayhem is so excessive that it leaves reality far behind, rising to a level of cartoonish carnage. 

What truly makes “Invasion U.S.A.” a display of delirious camp is Mr. Norris himself. His previous heroes usually had romantic subplots or family members to add some degree of humanity to him. “Code of Silence” and “Missing in Action 2” both showed the star playing fallible men capable of being injured and humbled. Not so in “Invasion U.S.A.” Matt Hunter wears skin-tight denim that often leaves his chest hair fully displayed but it seems to be the most effective armor of all. He rarely has to reload his firearms. Not that he needs guns, as his equally impervious pick-up truck smashes through enemies on multiple occurrences. At two separate points, the film seemingly depicts Hunter as able to teleport, disappearing from the enemy's line-of-sight and reappearing on the opposite of them. Chuck is never anything but a steely-eyed murder machine here, croaking incredibly goofy one-liners like “I'll hit you with some many rights you'll be begging for a left.” He doesn't even kick people that often, though when he does the film treats it as a visual punchline. He's more brutal than Braddock and more of a Lone Wolf than J.J. McQuade. 

Some token attempt is made to provide Matt Hunter with identifiable human emotions. He banters with his alligator hunter friend for two scenes before he's killed. He gets annoyed with the CIA recruiter who reaches out to him and occasionally expresses grief over the senseless destruction he witnesses. Melissa Prophet appears as the reporter who seemingly follows Hunter from action scene to action, a character that would be a love interest in a less insane movie but merely bugs him here. (Chuck wanted Whoopi Goldberg to play this part and was so annoyed that Zito wouldn't cast her that he refused to work with the director ever again.) Instead, the only truly meaningful relationship Hunter seems to have with anyone is with Rostov. The promise Hunter made to him that it's 'time to death” is repeated over and over, like an echo the two men can't escape. The guys are so obsessed with destroying each other that it seems to drive them more than any political ideology. Destroying capitalism is a bonus for Rostov and saving America is a side gig for Hunter on the way to finishing the business he started. If Norris' performance is one of steely faced, macho determination, Richard Lynch plays the villain as a wide-eyed, teeth-gritting lunatic. 

The mere thought of Hunter is enough to drive the already unhinged Rostov to uncontrollable acts of violence. Such as slamming a coke sniffing straw into a woman's nose before throwing her out a window or shooting Billy Drago in the dick. Upon dictating that Hunter is in the same room as him, Rostov begins blasting wildly and erratically with a machine gun. It's as if he has no control over his passions. Neither Rostov nor Hunter have any interest in the women. When they finally prepare for their final confrontation, Hunter extends a phallic rocket launcher and Rostov's raging face seemingly shows a moment of satisfaction. That is before exploding in an orgasmic fireball, body parts fluttering out a window as the smoke and flames fade. And then “Invasion U.S.A.” abruptly ends, its purpose complete. 

In other words, “Invasion U.S.A.” is a film that one can either dismiss as totally brain-dead nonsense, vulgar popular propaganda with little redeeming value, or action entertainment so absurd as to become ecstatic. If “Missing in Action” was Chuck Norris' “Rambo” moment, then this is his “Commando” moment, playing a practically amoral ubermensch that slaughters a tidal wave of thugs on the way to dispatching his homoerotically obsessed nemesis. It's not as brilliant as that camp masterpiece, because Norris only has a fraction of the charisma of Arnold. However, it is a hysterically goofy piece of excessive explosion cheese that must be treasured by fans of things such as these. Norris would later say he regretted the movie a bit, finding it a little excessive for his taste. Cannon would try to make a sequel, recasting Matt Hunter with Michael Dudikoff and basically making an unrelated film. It's not Chuck's best movie but it is one of his most ludicrous and that itself is an achievement. [8/10]

[THE CHUCK OF NORRIS: 4 outta 5]
[X] Facial Hair
[X] 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
[] Sports Some Cowboy Getup*

*The female lead repeatedly refers to Chuck as “cowboy” but only the oversized belt buckle screams giddy-up to me. 

CHUCK'S ROUNDHOUSE: Code of Silence (1985)

Chuck Norris' previous feature film for Orion Pictures was “Lone Wolf McQuade,” a modernized homage to the spaghetti westerns that first made Clint Eastwood a global superstar. His next Orion production would essentially see Norris stepping into a role not dissimilar from Eastwood's other most iconic reoccurring character. Screenwriters Michael Butler and Dennis Shryack, previously of “The Car” and “The Gauntlet,” originally wrote “Code of Silence” as the fourth “Dirty Harry” movie. Eastwood passed on the script – Butler and Shryack ended up writing “Pale Rider” for him next instead – but the writers continued to shop it around as an original project. Orion eventually picked it up and eyed it as a starring role for Kris Kristofferson. When he and half-a-dozen other tough guy actors passed, it ended up in Chuck Norris' lap. The film won the star the best reviews of his entire career and he would later cite it his favorite of his projects.

Eddie Cusack is a cop on the rougher side of Chicago. Along with his partner Dorato and a whole group of cops, he's part of a sting operation to bust a dealer working for Colombian drug lord, Luis Comacho. Instead, the set-up descends into chaos when killers in the employ of rival mobster, Tony Luna, open fire on the building. During the shoot-out, Dorato is shot, several crooks are killed, and another cop on the force named Craigie shoots an unarmed teenager. He then plants a gun on the dead kid. Cusack refuses to exonerate Craigie and ends up working with his inexperienced partner, Kopalas. As revenge, Comacho targets Luca's family, killing all of them except his teenage daughter, Diana. Seeking to protect the innocent girl, Eddie Cusack soon finds himself in a fight between mob families and with no fellow cops on his side. 

Here in America, most major city's police forces are less concerned with protecting and serving the public trust than they are with protecting the rich and powerful, extorting citizens for money, operating as enforcers of the prison industrial slavery complex, murdering and harassing racial minorities, and bleeding billions of dollars from local taxpayers so they can buy themselves tanks and body armor. In fact, they have no legal obligation to protect people and have gone to court several times to prove this. However, if you're only encounters with American police are through our popular culture, you would think the cops are constantly under siege from organized crime, small time crooks, and damn regulators trying to get in the way of them doing their job. So-called “copaganda” is unavoidable in this culture. I love me a good action flick, as this series should make clear, and likely the overwhelming majority of that genre is more-or-less about how police officers should have the right to do whatever they want and kill whoever they please. Because, damn it, they get results. You really have to totally disconnect fictional cops from real ones if you want to enjoy ninety percent of American action flicks. 

“Code of Silence” is notable for being one of the few eighties action flicks I've seen that actively acknowledges how cops are terrible. Honestly, I was shocked by the film unambiguously depicting a cop killing a black teenager as an impulsive choice and then planting evidence to make the murder look justified. You hear about this happening all the time now and I guess it's always been that way. Despite this set-up, “Code of Silence” is not an A.C.A.B. classic. Ralph Foody plays Detective Cragie as a despicable jack-ass who never feels any remorse at all for killing an innocent. Most of the cops around him believe it is their duty to protect their co-worker and stand-up for him. Eddie Cusack is the exception. He's the One Good Cop on the force that prevents all of them from being bastards. His testimony proves that the system works. His example gives at least one other officer the strength to also do the right thing. The film is not saying that the entire police system in America is fundamentally rotten but merely that it needs more “good” cops than bad ones. 

I almost think “Code of Silence” is aware of the obvious contradictions in this statement. After the rest of the precinct basically cuts him off, Cusack goes outside of the law to do what is right. He is heading into bars and picking fights, clinging to the outside of moving trains, getting into car chases. The climax of the film involves him stealing heavy artillery from the police station and using it on his own. All of this is obviously illegal, the “good” cop ending up breaking the law just as much as the dirty ones. “Code of Silence” can't step outside of its eighties action movie viewpoint. Cusack's cowboy cop ways save the day. He faces no consequences for it. He continues to be a cop, when the obvious moral of the story would be him leaving the force at the very least. The movie comes dangerously close to realizing that any system where such wanton destruction is the “best” ending is hopelessly broken. But it's still an action flick so it can't go that far. 

This is not so much a criticism as an observation. That a movie starring Chuck Norris manages to address these ideas with any sort of depth at all is surprising. “Code of Silence” benefits greatly from having a far grittier tone than most of the star's previous movies. The dialogue is hard-boiled, with quite a lot of colorful profanity. A strong supporting cast takes further advantage of this, with Dennis Farina as Dorato especially getting to dig into his part. The cinematography is from Frank Tidy, previously of “The Duelists,” and he gives the film a properly gritty, lived-in look. Director Andrew Davis, coming off atmospheric slasher “The Final Terror,” helpfully captures a sense of circumstances spiraling out of control for its hero. By the time he's getting wailed on in a bar, the feeling that he has no one to turn to and that the walls are closing in is clear. 

As at odds as these two threads of “Code of Silence” are, I think the film actually does a very good job of balancing its status as both a cheesy action movie and a grittier neo-noir. You see this in the bar room brawl, which has Chuck doing both his trademark moves and still getting beaten up in time. The pacing is extremely fleet-footed, the film rarely not building towards its next set-piece. That sequence where Chuck is chasing a guy across a moving train is both an impressive stunt and a good example of how the film plays with how very vulnerable its hero is, in opposition to the invincible eighties action hero cliché. That car chase is actually fantastically assembled, with a wonderful shot of the vehicles sparking against the asphalt as they leap through the air. That the film manages to successfully capture an air of gritty realism and end with an over-the-top smorgasbord of explosions and gunfire that prominently features a remote controlled robot tank is certainly some kind of achievement. 

By this point in his career, Norris has indeed developed into a decent actor. He's not Oliver or anything but he's become adapt at summoning up a certain degree of emotion. The scenes he shares here with an old friend are a highlight. “Code of Silence's” great weakness is that its primary villain isn't in more of the film. Henry Silva, owner of one of cinema's all time greatest psycho faces, gets to sleaze it up gloriously as a Colombian drug lord while still feeling strangely absent for most of the film. I also wish we got a little more interaction between Chuck and Molly Hagan as the distressed damsel, who he shares a distinctly fatherly energy with. Oh yeah, the movie is also set at Halloween, as if I needed another reason to like it. Contradictions at all, “Code of Silence” is some well engineered pulp and easily Norris' classiest flick. And Andrew Davis would go on to become the only filmmaker to direct two Steven Seagal films and a Best Picture nominee... [8/10]

[THE CHUCK OF NORRIS: 4 outta 5]
[X] Facial Hair
[X] 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
[] Sports Some Cowboy Getup

CHUCK'S ROUNDHOUSE: Missing in Action 2: The Beginning (1985)

Menahem Golan and Yoram Globus were confident in their plan to rush out a movie suspiciously similar to “Rambo: First Blood Part II” six whole months before the soon-to-be blockbuster was released. So confident, in fact, that they decided to double-down and get two “Rambo” knock-offs in theaters before Sylvester Stallone donned his red bandana again. “Missing in Action” and its sequel would be filmed back-to-back. The first film would depict Colonel Braddock's escape from the Vietnamese P.O.W. camp back in early seventies. The second would show him going back, in the present day, and rescuing the men who were left behind. Lance Hool would direct the first and Joseph Zito would direct the second. Upon getting a look at the finished movies, however, Golan and Globus decided the intended sequel was better than the original. Probably because it was more directly imitative of “Rambo” and had more explosions. To resolve any confusion, they simply flipped the titles. Zito's “Missing in Action” became the first film. Hool's became “Missing in Action 2: The Beginning,” the subtitle presumably added to clarify to audiences that this was a prequel. 

In the summer of 1972, Colonel James Braddock and his team would be deployed via helicopter into the jungles of Vietnam. Their mission to offer support to pinned down U.S. forces would go horribly wrong. The helicopter was shot down. Braddock and his men – Captain Nester, Lieutenant Mazilli, Corporal Opelka, and Master Sergeant Franklin – are captured by the North Vietnamese army. They spend the next two years under the brutal supervision of Colonel Yin, who delights in physically and psychologically torturing the Americans. The men are not let free as Yin schemes to get Braddock to sign a bogus confession admitting to war crimes, which he refuses to do. As the situation grows graver and men begin to die, Braddock makes his own move to escape the prison camp, free his men, and take Yin down himself.

 

“Missing in Action” was, of course, ridiculous agitprop designed to make American audiences hoot and cheer as revenge is taken against those nasty Vietnamese who so bruised our national ego back in 1975. Its Vietnamese characters were mostly villains, two-dimensional bad guys for our patriotic hero to vanquish. Having seen “The Beginning,” I'm surprised to say that Zito's sequel actually toned down the propagandist xenophobia of Hool's work. The North Vietnamese forces in “Missing in Action II” are depicted as almost inhuman in their sadism. Men are strung up and stabbed with knives, beaten on the regular, and kept in cages deep in the ground. They are forced to fight for their captives' amusement or stripped naked and paraded before mocking prostitutes. A notable moment has Norris hung upside down while a bag containing a starved rat is placed over his face. The torment is not merely physical. Yin regularly plays a “game” with the prisoners, in which he places a gun to their heads and pulls the trigger, only to reveal that the pistol is unloaded. He tells the boys that America has already lost the war, that no one is coming to save them. He informs Braddock that he's been declared dead and his wife has already remarried. When Franklin becomes deathly ill with malaria, his friends are told he's being injected with drugs to keep him alive when it's actually a fatal dose of opium. If that wasn't bad enough, Yin then kills Mazilli's pet chicken and hands him the dead bird. 

All throughout, Yin dangles the possibility of freedom before Braddock, as long as he signs that paper admitting to bogus war crimes against the Vietnamese. The warden claims that Braddock and his men have been kept here as long as they have because they are not prisoners of war but rather criminals. History, of course, tells us that the United States armed forces did inflict horrible war crimes against non-combatants in Vietnam. The North Vietnamese and the Viet-Cong did horrible things too, mostly to the South Vietnamese. All of this is a matter of public record. War is not a children's game, where one side is good and the other is bad. Exploitation films like “Missing in Action II” hope to drive ticket sales by playing on the audience's emotions. Obviously, Americans want to see themselves as the heroes, the victims of hideous atrocities and never the perpetrators of it. By depicting the Vietnamese forces as such brutally evil people, who then have the gull to falsely accuse the Americans of being just as bad, is to further facilitate ugly cheers and whoops in 42nd Street theaters and anywhere else. 

The result is a motion picture with a real malicious energy flowing through it. An early scene has an failed escape attempt ending with an American set on fire via flamethrower, his suffering lingered on. Later, when Braddock gets his hand on the same device, he turns the flame on the Vietnamese in a similarly ruthless fashion. The torture scenes and gladiatorial combat are not merely bloody but brutal too. Since this is a war movie, there's little guarantee that anyone will survive these events. Whenever a bit of hope is dangled before the P.O.W.s – a helicopter appearing overhead or an Australian photographer appearing and claiming to be from a human rights organization – it inevitably ends badly. Honestly, out of the first two "Missing in Action" films, if I had to guess which one was made by a horror movie specialist, I would assume it was this one. 

"Rambo: First Blood Part II" turned its nationalistic rage against the Vietnamese into over-the-top camp, difficult to take seriously as anything but comic book theatricality. "Missing in Action" aims for something grittier and uglier. So why watch the prequel then? First off, "The Beginning" feels like one of those fifties Men's Adventures pulp story, in its focus on physical agony, tough men in tougher situations, and racist caricatures as villains. There is a cultural context to be gleamed from this motion picture, in other words. It also, eventually, does become an entertaining action movie in its own right. Once Braddock escapes the camp and turns the tide on his captives, this becomes a fast-paced enough flick with some solid stunts from Norris and some pyrotechnics. While Zito's "Missing in Action" mostly limits its star's karate abilities, "The Beginning" smartly climaxes with a one-on-one showdown between Braddock and Yin. It's a very good fight, maybe the best of Norris' whole film career up to this point. Moreover, after watching an entire movie of Colonel Yin being so wicked towards everyone, watching him get beat up is quite satisfying. It helps that Yin played with an impressively vicious glee by Soon-tek Oh, making a fine villain. 

I commented in my review of the first "Missing in Action" that it seemed to feature Chuck Norris evolving into an actually semi-decent actor. Knowing that "The Beginning" was shot first reveals this as the movie where Norris finally started to put some non-kicking/non-punching skills behind his movies. Supposedly, Chuck thought about his brother's death during the scene where Braddock is forced to watch one of his men die, the martial artist actually employing a bit of what you might call the Method there. Lool manages to get a surprising degree of pathos out of Norris' eyes during the many shots of them peering through the bars of his prison. There is a sense of camaraderie between the ensemble here. None of the guys are developed much beyond one or two characteristics – Cosie Costa probably does the best as Mazilli – but you do get the feeling that they all care about each other.

"Missing in Action 2" is a hard movie to defend, in many ways. It's a fairly ugly exploitation movie, not only in terms of content but also in the real sense of rage it directs towards its villains. Villains very much meant to stand-in for an entire nation of people, or at least their military forces. The movie represents some very sour grapes from the world's super power, demonizing its enemies and then executing them. At the same time, it's well-made, ultimately becoming quite efficient in getting the intended reaction out of the viewer. It also happens to feature some pretty bad-ass Chuck Norris stuff, the reason we watch these movies after all. It's certainly a much more interesting film than the prior "Missing in Action," which was less memorable in terms of action and not as compelling in its pacing. Being a fan of action movies means liking some ethically dubious shit some times, which is the feeling I have as I give "Missing in Action 2" a positive final score. [7/10] 

[THE CHUCK OF NORRIS: 5 outta 5]
[X] Facial Hair
[X] 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