RIP Vanity: “Action Jackson”

Poor Action Jackson. It’s like the dinosaur that just keeps on scampering through the jungle, blithely ignoring the funnel of ash kicked up by the meteorite that hit yesterday. In other words, it was dead but just didn’t know it yet. By its premiere in February of 1988, we’d already had Lethal Weapon and Above the Law, and the summer would bring us Die Hard—all of which heralded the arrival of lean, wily action heroes who got by more on wit and cleverness than bulk. The era of the muscle-bound, solo action hero was over, and Carl Weathers arrived at the party too late to build his own franchise. Of course, now we can look back and appreciate it for the dumb fun that it was. What’s cool about Action Jackson? Well…

Son of a gun, gonna have big fun down at the bayou: “No Mercy”

I think in the 1980s there was some kind of an epidemic of partners being murdered. As a matter of fact, I’m pretty sure the only reason any homicides were solved at all in the ‘80s was because a cop’s partner was the victim. Like, 90% of the police work being done was in service of avenging a partner. Fortunately, avenging one’s partner allows for some pretty wide latitude (stealing from undercover FBI agents, invading Japan, etc.) In this, 1986’s No Mercy is a pretty straightforward example of the genre, notable only for its leads and the respective trajectories of their careers.

Arliss Howard also pwns! “Plain Clothes”

This is the latest in my “pwns!” series in which I extol the virtues of under-recognized or under-appreciated actors. Previous installments covered Stephen McHattie and Bob Hoskins.

And now for a different Seattle cop story…

I suppose I’ve been seeing Arliss Howard in stuff for decades, but I never really noticed him until his amazing turn as the ice-blooded former spook Kale Ingram in the late, lamented Rubicon. With his laid-back style and flatter-than-the-topography-of-Illinois Midwestern accent, Howard manages to simultaneously anchor and enliven any scene he’s in. So when I discovered he starred in a little-seen 1987 comedy about a detective that goes undercover in a suburban high school, well, I don’t know what deity I need to make a pagan offering to, but this goat’s sure not gonna sacrifice itself.

Lust in the jungle: “Tarzan the Ape Man”

Lord, I miss the movies of the ‘80s. And when I say that, I mean the pre-blockbuster days of the early-‘80s. When the decade still had a contact high from the ‘70s—still batshit crazy, but less violent and despondent.  That moment when we, as a society, went from “We’re in the midst of a bad recession and gas shortage, so let’s smoke some pot and have an orgy,” to “Yay! Reagan said that it’s morning in America! Let’s all do coke and have an orgy!” Because, gentle reader only that era of innocence could bring us a big-budget Tarzan movie that basically serves as nudity-delivery vehicle for Bo Derek. And with that, let us dive into 1981’s Tarzan the Ape Man.

Guilty Pleasures: “Black Moon Rising”

For decades, two questions in particular have vexed moviegoers: 1) Has Tommy Lee Jones always been that craggy? And 2) Has he always been awesome? With Black Moon Rising, a largely-overlooked 1986 throwaway, we get the answers, and they are a resounding yes and yes. Oh sure, there have been missteps, but not here, that’s for damn sure. With Black Moon Rising we get TLJ doing what he does best—being laconic and getting into fights. But we also get car chases, a goofy heist plot, and Robert Vaughn being sinister. This movie is more dumb fun than it has any right to be. When the credits rolled, I replayed it and watched it again.

This House Rocks: “The House of the Devil”

Okay, you can breathe easy if you haven’t seen The House of the Devil, because I want you to enjoy it absolutely as much as I did. Thus, I promise you I WILL NOT SPOIL The House of the Devil. Oh sure, I’ll review it. I mean, I wrote a post title and uploaded a picture and everything. But I won’t be giving away anything essential. You can read away secure in the knowledge that afterward you can slap the DVD into your Blu-Ray player and go on the same enjoyable, scary, funny nostalgic ride that I did. Now, there is one caveat: by limiting how much I can say about the movie, This post will be kinda short. And there will probably be a lot of filler. I’ll try and make it worth your while.