CHUCK'S ROUNDHOUSE: Sidekicks (1992)

When “The Karate Kid” was released in 1984, it gave lame white people all over the world an excuse to embrace martial arts. John G. Avildsen's re-shuffling of his already iconic “Rocky” would also become a surprise hit. It turns out moving the well-worn underdog sports story to a youthful demographic and adding a generous helping of Asian quasi-mysticism was a winning formula. An easily replicated one too, as several similar films emerged in its wake. The second half of the eighties and early nineties contained a surprising number of movies that directly emulated “The Karate Kid's” premise or combined martial arts with a kid-friendly angle. At some point during Cannon's financial free-fall years, the idea emerged of building a new Chuck Norris feature around clips from his other movies. Norris liked the idea enough to hold onto it after Cannon's collapse. With a cash infusion from a Texas mattress mogul, “Sidekicks” came into being by 1992. The film would become a modest box office success and, owning to being a lot less violent than most of Chuck's earlier films, a frequent presence in my childhood VHS player. 

Barry Gabrewski is a socially awkward, asthmatic kid living deep in the heart of Texas. His mother died when he was young and his dad is preoccupied with his computer business. Instead, Barry looks up to karate champ and action movie star Chuck Norris. He often daydreams about being Chuck's sidekicks in his various cinematic adventures. Worried about the boy, Barry's favorite teacher Miss Chan introduces him to her uncle. Lee takes the kid under his wing and begins to train him in martial arts. Barry still fantasizes about being friends with Chuck but he starts to overcome his asthma, draw the attention of a crush, and stands up to his bullies. That includes the protegee of Kelly Stone, the obnoxious asshole sensai of a local karate dojo. Lee and Miss Chan submit Barry into a local martial arts tournament. This not only gives the boy a chance to truly prove himself but also brings him shoulder-to-shoulder with his idol. 

“Sidekicks” does little to dissuade the notion that it was heavily influenced by “The Karate Kid.” This is, after all, the story of a scrawny white kid learning discipline and uncovering his inner strength under the tutelage of a wise old Asian guy. As far as wannabe Daniel-san and Mr. Miyagis go, I think this one is serviceable. It helps that Barry's plight is fairly relatable. He wants the cute girl in his class, who is Winnie Cooper. At the same time, his physical frailness holds him back from self-actualizing as a traditionally masculine man. When the girl outright tells him that she doesn't like him that way but rather feels sorry for him, as someone who was an awkward dweeb in school himself, I know how that feels. “Sidekicks” is as facile a wish fulfillment fantasy as any other action film. Barry does learn to believe in himself, physically bests his bullies, defeats his asthma through the power of karate, and clearly seems to win Danica McKellar's heart. Despite actually fighting alongside his hero, he discards the fantasy father figure of Chuck Norris for his actual father figure at the end, a dramatic turn the script doesn't really earn. If anything, Mr. Lee has been more of a dad to Barry than anyone else. 

However, Barry's frequent fantasies about being Chuck Norris' little buddy does occasionally touch on something more significant. While having an asthma attack that puts him in the hospital, Barry imagines himself as a prisoner-of-war being tortured by some rather Nazi-like officers. He imagines Chuck is there with him, giving him encouragement as imaginary chains tighten around his lungs the way his condition does. Later, while trying to climb the rope in gym, he again daydreams that Norris is there, quietly talking him through how to beat this. Ya know, if you grew up with a deadbeat dad and looked to surrogate father figures in pop culture to fill that void, this is not an entirely unreasonable premise. “Sidekicks” definitely takes Barry's fixation with Norris too far. The way he constantly carries around a beat-up karate magazine is very silly. As is the degree to which he looses himself in his daydreams. However, I do think the film, juvenile as it is, sincerely tries to tap into something deeper about how fiction can help us cope with reality sometimes. 

I'm not suggesting that one of Chuck Norris' family movies is secretly “Cinema Paradiso” or anything. As a comedy, “Sidekicks” is often broad and irritating. Far too much of the film is dependent upon the comedy stylings of Joe Piscopo. He plays the Martin Kove part from “Karate Kid,” the leader of the bad guy dojo who practices martial arts not to achieve inner peace but to physically intimidate people. Piscopo spends the entire film bathed in shiny flop-sweat, grimacing and trying to push his skull out of his face in every scene. During Barry's fantasy sequences, he dresses up in cartoonish outfits and somehow reaches even more grotesque levels of overacting. The “Missing in Action” inspired scene has the future right-wing talk radio host donning yellow face and a questionable accent. Piscopo's villain is set up as an egomaniacal rival ready for the fall against Norris, his defeat being maybe the most ridiculous moment of buffoonery in this motion picture. Or maybe it's the “Hitman” based scene, that sees Piscopo in black leather and chain mail as he fills candy and toys with poison and razor blades. 

These extended fantasy scenes are the main gimmick that separates “Sidekicks” from “The Karate Kid.” For fans of Chuck, that makes the movie a greatest hits reel of sorts. I say “of sorts” because the script seems slightly confused. The “Missing in Action” homage does indeed copy the scene where Norris rises out of murky jungle waters while firing a machine gun in slow motion. The opening sequence is inspired by “The Octagon,” with Norris fighting off a horde of enemy ninjas in some sort of secluded, fortified compound. It adds more outrageous flourishes, like Norris in an all-white ninja costume or a bad guy in an elaborate Noh mask, but the homage is evident. When Chuck and Barry are in trench coats and wielding saw-off shotguns, that's obviously “The Hitman.” However, while the western saloon daydream practically mentions “Lone Wolf McQuade” by name, it is a direct horse opera spoof. Chuck Norris has never done a regular western. He's never done a World War II movie either, which is what the Nazi torture fantasy is presumably going for. 

“Sidekicks” is a film stars Chuck Norris as an idealized version of himself, was directed by his little brother, features a cameo from his son, and positions the man as a ineffable figure of strength, heroism, charity, and upright fairness. The final scene suggests the legacy of Chuck Norris will continue to inspire the disadvantaged and down-trodden to victory. This is an ode to the man's own ego. Which makes you wonder why it doesn't get more about Chuck's own movies right. Maybe Norris was imagining a slightly better version of his own career for himself here. Perhaps the version of Chuck Norris that exists in this movie's world didn't do the same kind of movies over and over, like in our more mundane universe. I guess a “Silent Rage” or “Invasion USA” homage wouldn't have fit the squeaky-clean image this one was going for.

Pedantic nitpicking aside, “Sidekicks” is a little better than it needed to be. The cast is actually quite likable. The bright-eyed Jonathan Brandis successfully mixes a child-like sense of awe with a more reserved kind of sadness. Julia Nickson is surprisingly good as Miss Chan, sweet and caring in a way that feels genuine. (She's also, if you'll allow me to say, gorgeous.) Beau Bridges has some decent chemistry with her in a few scenes. Mako gets probably the script's corniest dialogue as our Dollar Store Mr. Miyagi. A scene where he slapsticks his way through a fight with some bikers is quite bad. As are any of the moments when he drops some rambling ancient Chinese secrets on the hero. (Would've been nice if, once again, Mako Iwamatsu could have played a Japanese man but whatever.) However, Mako was too likable a presence not to make some of his scenes work. Such as when he humbles a bigot at the airport or decides upon the humiliating name for Barry's karate alter-ego. And when he slams through that pile of bricks at the end? That shit is still cool.

Aaron Norris' direction is no less mawkish than in past credits. However, I think he's learned by now to let João Fernandes go a little crazy with the cinematography. “Sidekicks” looks shockingly good for what is otherwise such a chintzy production. That opening ninja scene features some ominous slow pans over creepy statues. A shot of Barry training around a fountain, as his and his master's shadows are reflected on the wall, looks fantastic. The physical comedy is goofy but why is the lighting so fucking good in that shot of a ninja exploding through the school wall? You didn't have to go that hard, João. I'd say the same to Alan Silvestri, whose synth-heavy rock score genuinely gets the heart pumping at times. The film definitely needed a proper theme song, its own “You're the Best” or “Hold Onto That Vision,” to truly make it work but I'm still fond of Silvestri's score. I guess it's fair to say that I'm still kind of fond of “Sidekicks” in general, as vain, dumb, and formulaic a motion picture as it is. Maybe the nostalgia is talking but I do think I'd take it over “Three Ninjas!” or “The Next Karate Kid.” [6/10]

[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*

*Bolo tie and boots

CHUCK'S ROUNDHOUSE: The Hitman (1991)

Watching your way through a movie star's entire career allows you to see how their style and screen persona evolved. There's always been a bit of a contrast between Chuck Norris: Memetic Bad-Ass, as depicted in his more ultra-violent eighties action-fests, and the distinctly Americana-infused cowboy do-gooder of “Walker, Texas Ranger.” The actor intentionally softening his image in the late eighties also, probably not coincidentally, dovetailed with his own brother taking over directorial duties on most of his movies. Despite that, I guess the industry and the demands of the marketplace can still throw you a curve ball sometimes. Right at the start of the nineties, the Norris siblings would work on a project originally conceived for Charles Bronson, who had starred in increasingly grittier variations on his “Death Wish” movies all throughout the previous decade. Being roughly three hundred years old at the time, however, forced Bronson to pass the mantle over to another mustachioed tough guy. The resulting film, “The Hitman,” would be “presented” by the barely-hanging-on Cannon, with no involvement from the company's previous execs. It represents an odd fusion of Norris' preferred style and the more intense violence that was becoming popular in the action genre at the time.

Cliff Carret is a Seattle police officer, investigating drug smuggling operations run by the local criminal empires. During one such bust, he is betrayed by his partner, Delany. Shot in the chest and pushed out a window, Cliff's heart stops momentarily in the emergency room. His police chief seizes this opportunity to have Carret declared dead. Under the new identity of Danny Grogan, a ruthless hitman, he goes undercover with the Luganni mafia family. The Lugannis are currently attempting to consolidate their empire with the LaCombe family across the border, against an in-coming intrusion into the area by Iranian criminals. Garret/Grogan, secretly in the employ of the police, attempts to complicate this fusion and dismantle both families. All the while, he continues to live a double life, helping out a bullied youth in his apartment building while still plotting revenge against his crooked partner.

Some ads promoted "The Hitman" with tagline “No more Mr. Nice Guy!” Unavoidably, the gimmick here is that Chuck is playing a “bad guy” or, at least, a violent anti-hero. Considering Norris had already portrayed a remorseless mass murderer in “Invasion USA” and “The Delta Force,” that really says a lot about the relative morality of eighties action movies. I guess it's okay when Commies and brown people are being slaughtered. The star sports a greasy looking mullet, a scar over his left eye, a black trench coat, and tough looking sawed-off shotgun.  He has multiple scenes devoted entirely to intimidating people and is re-introduced into the story blasting an unarmed man across a room. This choice is reflected in the tonal atmosphere of “The Hitman.” This is a story of rival mafiosos, peppered generously with outrageous profanity. There's at least two scenes of extended torture, one involving pig guts being shoved into someone's mouth and face. Racism is a reoccurring theme, alongside betrayal, greed, and corruption. The film also features Chuck's character evidently going down on his female love interest, something that's definitely not happened in any of his previous roles. If that scandalized any of his more religious fans, don't worry, she's shot in the head in the next scene or so. 

For a brief series of scenes, “The Hitman” seems like it's actually committed to the idea of Norris playing an irredeemable criminal. Perhaps whatever good was left in Cliff Carret died on that operating table, Grogan emerging as a Hydeian alter ego. That would've been interesting but “The Hitman” quickly gets cold feet. Upon returning back to his apartment, the “Grogan” persona is dropped entirely. He befriends a latch-key kid in his apartment, the boy's mom working three jobs just to support them. He enthusiastically shows the kid his model airplanes, as wholesome a hobby as a professional killer could have. When the lad reveals that he's being bullied, Grogan teaches him martial arts for self-defense. This leads to a light-hearted montage of the two training, set to a whimsical score. (There's also a scene where Grogan talks about growing up on an Indian Reservation as a white kid, getting bullied by darker skinned boys, which would probably be an insensitive thing to say to a black kid but this is apparently a real anecdote from Norris' own childhood.) This subplot – alongside inexplicable moments like mulleted Chuck basking in the quiet majesty of a Beluga whale – removes any ambiguity from the premise. See, this guy might be a brutal killer of bad men but he's ultimately a good man, who fights for justice and protects kids. He, in fact, is a nice guy.

The tonal disconnect between these two parts of the film is amusing, as if a hyper-violent shoot-em-up is randomly interrupted by a B-plot from a moldier episode of “Walker, Texas Ranger.” That's exactly how Aaron Norris and cinematographer João Fernandes shoot these scenes too. Funny enough, the rest of “The Hitman” actually looks quite moody. Fernandes' talent for misty urban locations, blue head lights and street lamps piercing the shadows of corners and alleyways, get a good work-out here. That slaughterhouse torture scene definitely reminds you of Fernandes' horror roots. Setting the film in Seattle and Vancouver – cities whose criminal empires I was previously unfamiliar with – with so many scenes happening in dark warehouses inevitably make this feel like an episode of “Highlander: The Series.” Joel Derouin's musical score, which is heavy on the warbling saxophones and bouncy synth bops, repeatedly draw attention to how cheesy and cheap “The Hitman” is overall. It's another contrast in the film, some decent neo-noir visuals standing alongside TV melodrama and a soft jazz soundtrack. 

If “Delta Force 2” suggested that Norris was becoming aware of Steven Seagal's style of limb-twisting action nudging into his territory, “The Hitman” makes me think that “A Better Tomorrow” must have made its way to Texas by 1990. The scenes of Chuck duel wielding firearms while dodging around further bullets brings the Heroic Bloodshed style to mind. While the heroic part is debatable, the film definitely has plenty of bloodshed. The squibs here are very big and wet. Limbs are blown apart, blood splatters from every wound, and people are visibly agonized by their injuries. A notable moment has a grown man reduced to blubbering like a child after a gut shot, an unexpectedly realistic moment in an otherwise exaggerated action movie. Again, if not for so many other things about “The Hitman,” it would be a pretty gritty crime flick. The bad guy explodes into flailing bloody giblets in the final scene, which is presented as a moral victory. 

The result is a bit of an odd ball. “The Hitman” seems designed to challenge Chuck Norris' established good guy act in many ways while also hilariously backtracking to cuddly, kid movie antics. All the actors playing the mobsters and crooks are giving suitably hard-boiled performances. Michael Parks is his usually colorful self as the film's main villain. The somewhat convoluted subplots concerning the mob world double-crosses point towards this possibly being a more serious crime movie. Then we'll leap back to the son/little brother figure that Chuck has to support or him rubbing a whale's head. Fascinating in its own way, it represents the direction the action genre was going in opposition to what Norris wanted to keep doing. He would pick the cheesy kids movie/TV stuff, mostly leaving the hard-hitting violence (and that awful mullet) behind. [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: Delta Force 2: The Columbian Connection (1990)

At the peak of Cannon's popularity in the middle eighties, Golan and Globus would diversify their portfolios. They would purchase several theatrical chains and distribution companies, even partnering on a Columbia Records Club style venture for VHS tapes in the UK. During this time, they also put a lot of chips on pricier projects like "Superman IV," "Masters of the Universe," and a long brewing "Spider-Man" adaptation. This would backfire almost immediately and, by 1987, the company was already facing potential bankruptcy. Several high profile lawsuits, convoluted corporate mergers, and an investigation by the U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission would follow. Golan would leave the company in 1989 and, by the start of the nineties, Cannon as it had once existed was basically no more. 

One gets the impression that, during this chaotic time, some essential corners were beginning to be cut. Production on "Missing in Action III" was marred by a helicopter crash that killed four people. During the filming of "Delta Force 2: The Colombian Connection" – a somewhat desperate attempt by Cannon's new owners to replicate past successes – another helicopter crash would happen. Four more men were killed and ten others were injured. This very upsetting incident would lead to Chuck Norris cutting ties with Yoram Globus, basically ending the long time association with the studio.

Despite the subtitle, “The Colombian Connection” is actually set in the fictional South American country of San Carlos. That's where vicious drug lord Ramon Cota controls a worldwide cocaine operation, so powerful even the country's president dare not challenge him. After Cota slaughters some DEA agent, the Delta Force is called in to assist. Colonel Scott McCoy and his new sidekick, Major Bobby Chavez, lead an operation to capture Cota. They are successful but the kingpin is powerful enough to buy his way out of prison. After which he hunts down Chavez and kills his pregnant wife. Chavez goes after Cota to settle the score personally, which doesn't work out for him either. With options running out, McCoy is dropped into San Carlos and sneaks into Cota's compound. 

Some of the posters and advertising material for “Delta Force 2” bear the subtitle “Operation Stranglehold.” This is because the script that became “Delta Force 2” was originally an unrelated project entitled “Stranglehold.” That is fairly evident in how disconnected the sequel feels in relation to the original. Colonel Scott McCoy in the first was not an especially complex hero. However, he at least had some brief reluctance to return to the Delta Force, showing some degree of inner conflict. McCoy in this film feels like a generic Chuck Norris hero, a high-kicking do-gooder with few other qualities outside of his commitment to justice. The script treats Paul Perri's Bobby Chavez like he's an established character, when he's someone we've never met before. I suspect, at one point in time, Perri's part was meant to be Steve James' character from the original. Much the same way that John P. Ryan's grizzled general feels like a hastily assembled replacement for Lee Marvin's Colonel Alexander. That speaks to how slapdash the sequel feels, as if it was quickly thrown together from whatever available resources the production had with hopes that audience wouldn't notice that they weren't watching an actual continuation of a previous story.

That assessment of “Delta Force 2” is basically correct. To read that the finished film was the result of a three year long cluster fuck of different scripts, revolving co-stars and changing directors is evident in the finished product. The sequel's plot is a mess of story threads all competing for screen time. The political situation in San Carlos is detailed. Local victims of Cota's reign of terror desire revenge on him. There's a DEA mole in Cota's operation, which the bad guy eventually sniffs out. McCoy trains a new group of Delta Force fighters to sweep into the villain's compound who end up getting captured instead. Government entanglements influence the direction of the story. All of this for a sequel to a fucking Chuck Norris movie, whose plot boiled down to some good guys rescuing hostages? 

The result is a motion picture that is almost impossible to care about. Aaron Norris directs his second starring vehicle for his big brother. The quirks he showed on “Missing in Action III” reoccur. Namely, when no better ideas can be found, throw some explosions on-screen, probably with people rolling away from them in slow motion. “The Colombian Connection” is absolutely full of pyrotechnics and lots of gunfire. Basically the entire second half is one shoot-out or fireball after another. Despite all the mayhem on-screen, the film is extremely dull. That the script introduces and then disposes of its various supporting characters further the impression that they don't matter at all. So much stuff going in within the plot causes the viewer to simply stop registering any of it. It is indeed quite a lot of sound and fury, signifying nothing. 

Only a few brief pleasures can be found here. After two smaller roles in previous Norris features, Billy Drago finally gets a chance to play the main antagonist in one of these movies. He absolutely devours the scenery, as a criminal kingpin who seems to perform every action in the most evil way he possibly can. When displeased by a worker taking a break to give birth, it is not enough to merely murder her husband. He must also kill her child and then rape her. (Events that thankfully occur off-screen.) Drago is introduced during Carnival festivities in some sort of “Eyes Wide Shut” mask, establishing him right away as an utterly alien and cold-hearted villain willing to do anything to consolidate his own power. Best of all is when Drago personally stabs the informant to death, pausing afterwards to acknowledge that he actually really liked that guy. “Delta Force 2” is a nothing movie with a nothing script but committed character actors like this guy were able to make absolute meals out such thin material. 

Drago's slithering theatrics are nearly enough to justify “Delta Force 2's” existence. (Putting aside the whole “several people dying” thing, of course.) For action fans, there are some cool Chuck Norris fights too. Perhaps showing that Steven Seagal was emerging onto the action scene by this point, more emphasis is put on Norris twisting his opponents' limbs and putting them in painful holds. There's a whole series of training montages inserted into the film, seemingly to give Norris more guys to kick. The stand-out fight is a one-on-one with Ric Prieto as the villain's primary henchman, a good confrontation in which the two martial artists knock each other around a colorful set before the bad guy gets a suitably gruesome death. There's also an elaborate sky-diving sequence, an extended stunt that surely can't have been easy to execute or shoot. Chuck was fifty around the time of filming. You do start to notice more cuts in the fight scenes or moments where his face is obscured, suggesting his age was beginning to effect his limberness. 

Or maybe “Delta Force 2” just kind of sucks. I feel really bad that people died during the making of such a mediocre, not to mention unnecessary, film. If you're going to give your life for the art of cinema, you'd hope it would be for something a lot less forgettable and stitched together than this. The only way “The Colombian Connection” improves upon the original – which is far from my favorite Norris feature to begin with – is by containing almost no Zionist subtext. Instead, the movie is propaganda for the Reagan/Bush I administration's brutal foreign policy in Central and South American countries as part of the mostly bullshit “War on Drugs.” Not sure if that's better or not. Whatever remained of Cannon did churn out one more “Delta Force” movie but a budget even more meager than this meant only a lesser Norris could be recruited for it. Imagine being a more inessential sequel than this.... [5/10]

[THE CHUCK OF NORRIS: 3 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
[] Shows Off His Hairy Chest
[] Sports Some Cowboy Getup

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