Delta Force 2: The Colombian Connection

Has there ever been a more unlikeable actor than Chuck Norris?

Taciturn, charmless, and with a cigarette paper-wide emotional range, Chuck somehow managed to maintain a 30-year career as a Hollywood star. All while looking like a lion forcibly mated with a squat female bodybuilder.

Despite such barriers to success, audiences flocked to his films. And sadly for Exploding Helicopter, he’s the charisma vacuum at the heart of Delta Force 2 (1990).

A sequel to the jingoistic, patriotic tub thumper The Delta Force, Norris returns as Colonel Scott McCoy the taciturn, charmless Special Forces commander with an emotional range as wide as a cig…….. oh, you can guess the rest.

The plot

America is flooded with cocaine, so Chuckie Boy is given a secret mission to capture drug baron Ramon Cota (Billy Drago), who’s holed up in the fictional South American country of San Carlos. The assignment has extra piquancy for Norris as Cota brutally killed his friend.

Now, those with more inquisitive minds may be wondering where, given the title, Colombia fits into all this. All I can say is, don’t trouble yourself with trifling details like that. Certainly, no-one involved in making this film did.

Who the hell’s in this? 

Our star is Carlos Norris (as he doesn’t like to be known). Never the most demonstrative of actors, Chuck is in particularly inexpressive form here.

During the film our hero has to watch a video of his best friend being cold-bloodedly murdered by the evil Cota. So, how does Chuck react to this horrifying moment? Does his tormented face portray the frustration and helplessness his character must feel as he witnesses his buddy slowly expire?

In a word: no.

Instead, Chuck stares blankly at the TV screen looking for all the world like a man waiting for the Ceefax page to change. And the Norris-nator’s leaden performance is not helped by the wildly divergent acting chops on display elsewhere.

As drug-lord Ramon Cota, Billy Drago gives a film-stealing turn of pantomime villainy. Listlessly lolling around his hideout, drawling his dialogue with theatrical relish he comes across like a homicidal lizard.

But Drago is made to look a modicum of restraint in comparison to B-movie stalwart John P Ryan, who plays Norris’ boss General Taylor. Twisting the over-acting dial to eleven, Ryan’s wildly eccentric turn appears to have no relevance to the film, the dialogue or even the part. He may be one of the good guys, but he’s potentially more nuts than anyone Norris is looking to bring to justice.

Chuck working through his emotional issues

The good

In case you thought Chuck was completely unmoved by the sight of his friend being sadistically killed, we do get a scene where he works through his grief and inner pain.

The weirdy-beardy decides to exorcise his demons and find emotional peace by beating up his entire Delta Force squad in an extended training montage.

"Feeling better?" Asks Chuck's boss as the battered bodies of the entire troop lie broken and scatted across the ground.

“Yes,” he replies. “But they’re not.”

What a nice guy.

The bad

Many a bad actor (John Wayne, Arnold Schwarzenegger, et al) has been saved by a director savvy enough to accentuate their stars strengths while hiding their flaws. Unfortunately, John Ford and James Cameron were unavailable to direct Delta Force 2, so instead the film is left in the dead hand of Aaron Norris. Hang on, that surname sounds familiar....

Yup, you've guessed it. After 15 profitable years working as his brothers’ stunt double, Aaron was – in a shameless act of nepotism – elevated to the role of director. While Norris Jr. may know how to fall from the top of a building or jump through a window whilst on fire, it’s abundantly clear he hasn’t a Scooby about how to direct or edit a film.

Under his control, seemingly straightforward scenes take on peculiar, unintended tones, as the camera inexplicably lingers on actors after they’ve delivered their lines. In places, all the awkward pauses and silences make you wonder if the brothers Norris were trying for a Pinteresque deconstruction of the human condition. Though, of course, it's also possible they simply didn’t know what they were doing.

The unwatchable

Against some stiff competition, perhaps the worst thing in this movie is Norris minor’s obsession with slow motion. I'm not sure Chuck delivers a single punch or kick without the frame being slowed to a crawl.

For fans of bone-crunching beat 'em ups, this Chuck-with-the-brakes-on routine becomes irritating. The easiest thing to do is just press fast-forward, which restores the fights to something resembling a normal speed.

Exploding helicopter action

Everyone's favourite form of fiery aviation doesn't arrive until the end of the film.

As Chuck attempts to make his getaway from Cota’s compound he’s pursued by a helicopter piloted by General Olmedo, a corrupt army officer who’s in cahoots with Cota.

Chuck Norris with the 'mad as a ship's cat' John P Ryan

When the car Chuck’s driving is crippled by rocket fire from the chopper, it looks like the game is up. With Chuck in the centre of his crosshairs, Olmedo – in typical villainous fashion - chooses to savour the moment and fatally pauses before administering the kill. (A familiar plot device taken to a high art by the Bond films).

The delay allows Chuck’s buddy General Taylor, piloting a helicopter of his own, to sneak up behind Olmedo and blast his opponent out the sky with a rocket. Having done the hard work the bonkers General gets to deliver the kiss-off line: “Bye-bye asshole.”

Artistic merit

Surprisingly, it’s pretty darn good. A lustrous, large fireball fills the screen. And while the scene is simply constructed and a tad predictable it’s still thoroughly enjoyable.

Exploding helicopter innovation

Innovation is not a concept that’s ever been knowingly embraced in a Chuck Norris film.

Positives

In recent years, Chuck Norris has become the subject of a famous internet meme. You know, that seemingly unending list of statements that attest to Chuck Norris’ incredible powers. Lines like “Chuck Norris doesn’t do push-ups. He pushes the Earth down.”

Interestingly, we can perhaps trace the origins of this phenomena to this film. Where after beating up a group of thugs in a bar, Norris is told off by a friend for breaking his promise not to get into a fight.
Norris replies, “I didn’t fight. I gave a motivational seminar.”

Negatives

It’s well known that the laws of physics do not apply in films. And Exploding Helicopter has always been fascinated by the objects which take on curiously bullet proof properties in movies.

Roger Moore’s discovery of bullet proof snow at the beginning of A View To A Kill has always been our favourite, but Delta Force 2 runs it a close second by featuring munitions resistant straw. Amazing.

Interesting fact

With a wooden leading man, a turgid script and the star’s stunt man brother directing, it’s not like this film didn’t have enough issues. But apparently Michael Winner was at one point set to make this film. Yee Gods.

Favourite line

We love the meaningless bollocks that’s regularly spouted in action films to give the dialogue a quasi-military feel. There’s a particularly fine example of the art here: “Eagle one, this is wildcard. Stranglehold is a go.”

Review by: Jafo

Black Sunday

Black Sunday (1977) should be a disaster. This spy thriller has a plot so epically bonkers, it would make a Bond movie look like an espionage documentary.

Yet, in the hands of directorial master John Frankenheimer (The Manchurian Candidate, Ronin), the fantastical storyline is transformed into the basis for a genuinely gripping, pulse-quickening actioner.

The plot

So what’s so barmy about the plot? Well the basic premise is standard fare: Arab terrorists plot to attack America. (Twas ever thus).

What is unconventional is their crackpot plan. This involves blowing up the Superbowl game using an airship they’ve turned into a giant floating bomb.

Only a top Israeli secret agent can stop the deadly attack. Can he burst the terrorists’ balloon? Or will it be a ‘good year’ (Goodyear, geddit?) for the villains?

Who the hell’s in this?

Robert Shaw (From Russia With Love) is the film’s hero. He’s plays Major Kabakov, a world-weary Mossad spy whose steely belief in his own superiority is matched only by his disdain for everyone around him.

In many ways, he’s a secret agent version of Quint, the salty seadog he so famously played in Jaws. All that’s missing is a scene where he shows off his scars while pretending – very unconvincingly – to be drunk.

He’s pitted against Bruce Dern, an unhinged Vietnam veteran recruited by the terrorists to fly the blimp. Dern, a long-serving specialist in crazed loon characters (see Silent Runnings, The Cowboys, et al), is here given free rein to unleash his inner crazy.

In one chilling scene, he cold-bloodedly engineers a man’s death just so he can test a nail-bomb. As the bloody, mutilated body slumps in front of him, Dern’s only interest is the symmetry of the holes on the wall behind the corpse. Yup, it’s fair to say the lad’s tuppence short of a shilling.

The good

Despite clocking in at the best part of two and a half hours, Black Sunday is never less than gripping.

The extended runtime gives Frankenheimer the scope to not only stage several exciting action set pieces (a bloody hotel shoot-out and motorboat chase are highlights) but properly develop the characters of his two protagonists.

While most espionage thrillers opt for either psychological depth (The Spy Who Came In From The Cold) or pyrotechnic thrills (The Spy Who Loved Me), Frankenheimer deftly fuses the two approaches.

This pays dividends for Frankenheimer during the credulity-stretching climax. As the blimp slowly, and very visibly, chugs towards its target (whatever it may be, this is certainly not a stealth operation), Robert Shaw is lowered from a pursuing helicopter in a desperate bid to stop the airship.

Predictably, things don’t go exactly to plan and our Bob is left clinging on to the side of blimp, looking for all the world like a midget trying to hump a very, very big woman. All the while, he frantically tries to attach a hook so the behemoth can be towed to safety by the chopper.

By rights this sequence should be every bit as a ridiculous as the ‘jump-the-shark’ moment in Die Hard 4.0 when Bruce Willis hitches a ride on a fighter jet. But with the viewer already fully invested in the characters and their motivations, the scene feels more like a natural conclusion rather than an absurdity bolted on to the end. (Which, in truth, it probably is.)

The bad

This is a big budget Hollywood blockbuster, where good must eventually triumph. That means the terrorists are required to make a simple mistake that ultimately leads to their downfall. And what an avoidable cock-up it is.

Despite the attack being weeks away, one of the terrorists can’t resist recording the gloating message they plan to send the media claiming responsibility for the atrocity. Let’s just hope this damning tape doesn’t accidentally fall into hands of the Americans, giving them just enough information to track down the terrorists. Oh, wait… D’oh.

The unwatchable

Not so much unwatchable, as inaudible. Robert Shaw’s attempt at a kosher Israeli accent is so bizarre, Exploding Helicopter was forced turn the subtitles on after 20 minutes. Oy vey!

Exploding helicopter action

Since the dramatic focus of Black Sunday is an exploding zeppelin, the film may seem an unpromising prospect for chopper fireball fans. Fear not! For during the film’s exciting denouement, there is also some exploding rotary action to enjoy.

As the airship languidly floats towards the Superbowl, a police helicopter is scrambled to stop it. Happily, one of the terrorists has brought along a machine-gun and energetically opens fire on the copper’s chopper.

Trailing smoke and flames, the wounded whirlybird loses altitude before it suddenly explodes. It goes up, ironically enough, like the Hindenburg.

Artistic merit

Points have to be deducted for cheating. Rather than actually blow up the helicopter, footage of a fireball is superimposed over it. Due to the limitations of special effects in the Seventies, this trick was regularly – and unconvincingly – employed by filmmakers of the era (Diamonds Are Forever, for example.)

Watching today, it’s easy to sit and smirk. But Exploding Helicopter choses to salute these trailblazers who found ways to give us the chopper fireball thrills we craved despite the technical challenges of their day.

Exploding helicopter innovation

This blog has seen helicopters battle many different modes of transport: motorcycles, cars, airplanes, tanks, even trains. But, we’ve never seen one engaged in an aerial dogfight with a blimp. It remains unique to this day.

Favourite line

Understanding what makes a success or failure can be hard.

In Predator, Arnold Schwarzenegger immortalised the line: “Get to the chopper!” Sadly, Bruce Dern was unable to pull off the feat with his similar, but perhaps less catchy, “Get to the blimp!”

Maybe he should have tried it with a thick Austrian accent.

Tagline

Black Sunday’s tagline is the perplexing ‘It could be tomorrow’. And indeed it might, assuming every day was Saturday.

Review by: Jafo

Lone Survivor

‘Crack.’ ‘Splatter.’ ‘Shriek!’ ‘Splurge.’

Lone Survivor (2013) is one of the most brutal, blood-splattered war movies ever committed to celluloid. During the course of this gruelling film, hundreds of people are brutally shot, stabbed and bludgeoned to death in graphic, documentary detail. And yet, by the end of a juddering 121 minutes, perhaps the greatest casualty is any sense of realistic characterisation.

The plot

Based on real events, the film tells the story of a bungled operation to kill a high-level Taliban leader in Afghanistan. A small reconnaissance team is sent to discretely locate the target. But after being discovered, they quickly find themselves surrounded by the local militia.

Unable to summon help, the soldiers are forced into a desperate battle to both save their lives and come across as three-dimensional characters. (Given this is a Peter Berg film, it’s probably not giving too much away to say that the odds for either of these aren’t too promising.)

Who the hell’s in this?

Funky bunch rapper, hamburger entrepreneur and occasional actor Mark Wahlberg plays Marcus Luttrell – the titular character. Naturally, everyone else in the cast is expendable cannon fodder. (The clue’s kind of in the title.)

Making up the rest of Wahlberg’s condemned team are Ben Foster, Emile Hirsch and Taylor Kitsch – an actor whose vacant, surfer dude persona and wooden acting are reminiscent of a younger, slightly less convincing, Keanu Reeves. When they’re hiding out in a forest at one point, it’s actually hard to spot Kitsch among all those other prime hunks of timber.

Further target practice for the Taliban is provided by perennial movie corpse, Eric Bana. Having met a sticky-end in Star Trek, Troy, The Time Traveller’s Wife, and Hanna, Eric’s not really the guy you’d want to see leading your rescue mission.

And sure enough, as soon as everyone’s least favourite Hulk tries to save Wahlberg, he gets an RPG straight up his jacksy. Only Sean Bean has a ‘death reel’ to rival the Aussie lunk.

The good

While Berg has little interest in narrative niceties such as plot and character development, he is at least keen to depict war in all its visceral hell. This lack of squeamishness results in some of most intense combat scenes Exploding Helicopter has ever encountered – filled with pulse-pounding tension, fear, and confusion.

Mark Wahlberg and his doomed co-stars

There’s an almost giddy portrayal of realistic, close-quarters violence. Forget those films where characters heroically dismiss injuries as ‘flesh wounds’ before bounding-off to perform Herculean feats of bravery. Here, war really hurts.

Outnumbered and outgunned, our heroes are not so much injured as gradually mutilated by the punishing array of guns, rockets and grenades ranged against them. Bones break, limbs are shot-off, and blood pumps furiously from gaping wounds. An episode of Casualty, this is not.

The most powerful scene in the film sees the surviving soldiers try to escape their pursuers by throwing themselves down a steep cliff. As they hurtle uncontrollably down the slope, the sound and camerawork makes you feel like you’re experiencing every impact as they smash into trees, rocks and boulders. By the time they get to the bottom, it feels like you’ve careened down the cliff yourself.

The bad 

While Peter Berg’s sledgehammer approach to film-making brings vitality to the combat scenes, it poses big problems whenever the actors have to do some of that old-fashioned ‘acting’ stuff that used to be so popular.

The film has barely begun before our heroes, in a series of entirely unnatural conversations, unload a heavy barrage of character exposition. They shell the viewer with unnecessary stories about how much they love their families, and engage in much strained bros-in-arms joshing.

It’s all utterly unconvincing: the scenes are simply there to establish each character as action movie stereotype A, B or C. So by the time Taylor Kitsch starts yakking away about his upcoming marriage, he may as well hold up a sign saying: ‘Dead by the end of the second act’.

(It’s a well-known staple of these movies that no character ever mentions impending nuptials, or even looks fondly on a pic of a ‘special gal back home’, without getting solidly murdered to death within the hour.)

Eric Bana: world's worst rescue team leader

Notably absent from all this emotional elucidation is Mark Wahlberg. As anyone familiar with war films knows: the man with the least to live for is the guy who gets to go home. So when the Wahlburger tells us that all he wants to do on getting back to the States is chop down the tree in his garden we can be sure he’ll make it to the end credits.

(And in fairness, standing next to a big lump of wood will probably remind him of all those good times with Taylor Kitsch.)

Such character problems were readily apparent in Berg’s previous film Battleship, a movie exclusively populated by cardboard cut-outs – including a mono-featured Rhianna, who has arguably shown more expressionistic range in those innumerable tweeted photos of her own arse.

So flimsy was the characterisation that the actors wore t-shirts with ‘Navy’ and ‘Army’, as if that was the most interesting thing about them. Often, it was.

The unwatchable

Fatally, Lone Survivor includes a credit that has marked the death knell for many a movie: ‘Made with the full cooperation of the US Army’. Inevitably, this translates into unending scenes of flag-waving, tub-thumping jingoism.

The film’s opening is little more than a glorified recruitment video for the US armed forces where soldiers are lectured on the values that make them men: honour, loyalty and comradeship. Hu-ah!

As if that wasn’t bad enough, the whole thing is rounded off with a lachrymose cover version of David Bowie’s Heroes. At some points, the whole thing veers dangerously close to Team America’s ‘Fuck, yeah!’ territory. Hail to the chief, indeed. Now, will someone pass the sick bag?

The chinnock gets an RPG up the jacksy

Exploding helicopter action

So, to our favourite casualty of war. This occurs when a big Chinnock helicopter is scrambled for a rescue mission. There’s a strong hint that the big whirlybird could be doomed as soon as we see the ill-omened Eric Bana climb on-board. (Possibly only Dracula has spent more time dead onscreen than the accident-prone Antipodean.)

It flies out to the mountain where Wahlberg and his team are trapped by the Taliban. But before reinforcements can be dropped off, one of the Afghans fires an RPG.

The missile flies straight inside the back of the whirlybird via the open loading ramp. Soldiers dodge out of the way as the rocket flies down the centre of cargo hold.

Hitting the cockpit, it ka-booms and completely severs the front half of the chopper. The dismembered helicopter falls to the ground and explodes. Ho, hum. Eric Bana killed in action once again.

Artistic merit

Whatever gripes viewers may have against Peter Berg, the lad knows how to stage an action sequence. This is a high quality, well-executed chopper fireball.

Exploding helicopter innovation

I loved how the missile flew down the inside of the Chinnock - an innovation we’ve never seen before.

Surprisingly, despite expiring so many times onscreen, this is the first time Eric Bana has been killed by an exploding helicopter. One suspects – and hopes – it won’t be the last.

Interesting fact

This indeed is a small world. Marcus Luttrell - on whose story this film is based - was friends with Chris ‘American Sniper’ Kyle, having served in the Navy Seals together.

Review by: Jafo

Still want more? Then you can listen to the Exploding Helicopter podcast episode on Lone Survivor. Find us on iTunes, Spotify, Acast, Stitcher or listen right here....

Piranhaconda

Watching exploitation flicks can be a joyless affair. By their nature, they tend to be low on budget, originality – and most depressingly, entertainment.

Possibly, the only thing worse than sitting through such hackneyed drivel is writing a review of it for a niche film blog dedicated to an invented micro-genre. (Note: that’s this one, in case you thought Exploding Helicopter was suggesting you click off to somewhere more interesting).

But occasionally, just occasionally, you encounter an exploitation film that remembers the genre is actually meant to be fun. Sometimes, a movie plants its tongue so firmly in cheek, and delivers its genre tropes with such breezy wit, that you leave feeling as if you haven’t been, well, exploited. Friends: I give you Piranhaconda (2012).

The plot

After stealing a nest full of piranhaconda eggs, an Indiana Jones-style scientist-adventurer (Michael Madsen, continuing his downward career spiral with admirable alacrity) is captured by a mysterious gang of criminals.

Big Mike is quickly joined in captivity by a bunch of actors from a nearby films shoot (note: this film is taking place in a curiously populated area of ‘remote’ jungle).

But before the villains can start cutting out old newspaper letters into a ransom demand, the piranhacondas go on a slithery, teeth-gnashing rampage to get their unhatched younglings back. Can our heroes escape the kidnappers’ clutches? Will they evade the murderous reptilian fish? And could someone please explain what the hell a piranhaconda is?

Who the hell’s in this?

In a staggeringly unlikely piece of casting, Michael Madsen plays a professor of herpetology (the study of reptiles and amphibians in case you’re wondering). If that idea isn’t mind-melting enough, his character is called Professor Lovegrove. Hmmm shabba. Slouching through the film with his usual smirking sang-froid, the ear slicing Reservoir Dogs star seems as amused as the audience by his bizarre casting.

Michael Madsen: natural casting as a reptile professor

The only other cast member of note is Rachel Hunter who crops up as a henchwoman in the kidnappers’ gang. The former Mrs Rod Stewart (an unhelpful label given how many identical-looking leggy blondes this tag now applies to) doesn’t appear too interested in the film.

Her limp contribution is mercifully ended early, when she’s mounted by a slithery aberration with a gaping mouth and leathery skin. Probably reminded her of her wedding night.

Why on earth should I watch?

The film-within-a-film subplot provides a surprisingly rich source of gags for the viewer to enjoy. With fully intentional irony, the crew in the jungle are shooting a low-budget slasher called Head Chopper 3. Cue loads of knowing jokes about horror genre conventions and bad acting, which are as much a commentary on the film we’re watching as they one they’re pretending to make.

Admittedly, this sort of meta-critique is hardly new, and has been done better elsewhere: the Scream films, for example. But God – and Exploding Helicopter – loves a trier, and the movie’s game efforts to please are goodwill in the bank.

Why would this be best avoided?

The presence of a decent baddie can be the making of a movie. (See Alan Rickman in Die Hard and Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves.) By the same token, a clunkingly bad one can sink a movie like a stone. (Hello there, Arnold Schwarzenegger as Mr Freeze in Batman and Robin.)

Piranhaconda positively cries out for a bit of moustache-twizzling, panto-villain cruelty from the kidnap gang’s leader. Unfortunately, jobbing actor Michael Swan exudes all the menace of a pedantic parking warden. When you’re being out-menaced by a former supermodel who’s supposed to be in your own gang, it’s probably time to jack in the acting lark.

A piranhaconda snacks on a helicopter

Exploding helicopter action

The key scenes occur at the start of the film shortly after Madsen steals the piranhaconda eggs. He plans to make his getaway in a chopper that’s hovering nearby, but the enraged snake has other, largely homicidal, ideas.

Before Madsen can hop onboard, the piranhaconda rears up and bites the unfortunate vehicle. The pilot loses control, and the damaged chopper spins towards the ground and explodes.

Artistic merit

Good: there’s a decent fireball. Even better, the rotor blades sheer off and hurtle towards the camera adding a touch of extra drama.

Exploding helicopter innovation

Helicopters don’t tend to be bitten very often in films (they’re clearly not very appetising), but there have been other examples – in Godzilla (1997) and Robocroc (2013).

Favourite line

Many films get bogged down with expositionitis – the compulsive need to explain everything to the viewer. Invariably, this involves turgid exchanges between two characters as they expound lengthily on the plot.

There was much reason to fear that Piranhaconda, with its need to explain away its unlikely-sounding titular creature, would fall foul of this trap. Not so. The film deals with the whole matter in three commendably brief sentences.

“It’s like an unholy union between a piranha and an anaconda.”
“You mean a piranhaconda.”
“I can’t believe you just said that.”

Review by: Jafo

Cradle 2 The Grave

Rap-fu? Kung-hop? Hip-hop chop socky? While there isn’t yet an official name for this peculiar action movie sub-genre, you’ll doubtless know the type.

Yup, we’re talking about movies such as Exit Wounds or Romeo Must Die. Films where, through barely plausible plot contrivance, a noted martial arts star is teamed with a rapper.

On the surface, these double acts appear to make little sense. But look deeper and you’ll find a cunning logic behind these oddball shotgun marriages.

Your average martial artist, while expert in unarmed combat, tends to murder dialogue as easily as an opponent. As actors, they really should let their feet and fists do the talking.

What’s needed then is a motor-mouthed sidekick. Someone whose non-stop stream of verbal diarrhoea will distract the audience from their partner’s lack of thespian chops. Less Enter The Dragon; more Yo, Bum-Rush The Rapper.

All of which makes Cradle 2 The Grave (2003) – which pairs martial arts legend Jet Li with hardcore rap king DMX – a perfect example of the form.

Trouble starts when jewel thief DMX steals a consignment of rare diamonds. Unfortunately, a ruthless arms dealer (Mark Dacascos) wants the gems too, as – wouldn’t you know it? – they’re also apparently the secret ingredient for a deadly new super weapon. You never get that at H.M Samuels.

Also on the trail of the stones is a Taiwanese cop (Jet Li) who wants to stop them falling into the wrong hands. So when Dacascos kidnaps DMX’s daughter, it’s time for the rapper and martial artist to buddy up and knuckle up.

Can our odd couple heroes rescue the imperilled tot? Have they any hope of stopping the super weapon threat? And will their fractious love-hate relationship blossom into one of grudging mutual respect? (Exploding Helicopter doesn’t like to spoil things, but if you’re after a genre convention-busting movie maybe best look elsewhere.)

The wisdom of pairing the beat-em-up star with the beat-master becomes apparent the minute Jet Li opens his mouth. His line readings are as flat as a pancake. The world may be facing global Armageddon but Li makes it sound as worrying as missing a dental appointment.

Nuff respec’, then, to DMX for livening things up with his garrulous ‘gangsta’ persona. All bling, muscle and sneers, atti-tood emanates from him like that famous glow from the old Ready Brek adverts. Dis muvver been taking care of bizness! For reals.

It’s not a subtle schtick by any stretch, but the rapper’s angry histrionics add much-needed pep to proceedings.

Even still, it seems the producers were in no mood to take any chances. And as the ancient Chinese proverb (possibly) has it: why have one sassy loudmouth when you can have half a dozen?

Perhaps familiar with the rest of Li’s Hollywood output (the diminutive actor’s charm and quirky energy seem to evaporate in English-language movies), the movie-makers have stuffed the cast with more fast-talking wise-asses than you could twerk your money-maker at.

As DMX’s gang members, Anthony Anderson and Gabrielle Union add bountiful levels of live-wire sass. And just in case there was still a danger of insufficient jibber-jabber, Tom Arnold turns up as a loquacious ‘Mr Fix-it’. (This, naturally, is a thinly veiled reprise of the irritating gob-on-legs act he’s been doing on-and-off since trademarking it in True Lies.)

At times, there’s so much shouting, in-your-face posturing and pushing on show, you half-expect Jerry Springer to spring up and calm everyone down, before delivering a ‘heartfelt’ moral message to the screen.

Unsurprisingly, amid such verbal overkill, wee, silent Jet runs the risk of becoming an anonymous presence altogether. After all, the only things he has that can talk are his fists. Happily, the producers – realising that no-one wants the star to become lost in his own film – throw in loads of improbably-conceived dust-ups.

Perhaps the finest example, in a film filled to bursting with unlikely confrontations, is a spurious cage-fighting contest, which is entertainingly (and entirely unconvincingly) crowbarred into the plot.

A similarly over-the-top approach is taken towards the rest of the film’s action sequences. A quad bike chase through the streets (and eventually across the rooftops) of Los Angeles is an exciting example of this extravagance. So too is the finale where we treated to not one, but two exploding helicopters.

Events move to a small airport (always a favourite location for an action movie showdown). With his nefarious plans scuppered, Dacascos attempts to make an escape in a chopper. Fortunately, Tom Arnold has also turned up in a tank. (Don’t ask: it’s just that kind of film).

With Dacascos about to disappear into the skies, Arnold fires the tank cannon. The shell hits the chopper’s tail rotor which, in the time-honoured tradition of the exploding helicopter genre, causes the whirlybird to spin round wildly before crashing into the ground and exploding.

But wait. In keeping with the film’s bling-bling approach to excess, the first explosion of Dacascos’s chopper causes another nearby helicopter to blow-up. Cradle 2 The Grave? We call it Chopper To The Grave.

Artistic merit

The first helicopter is a bit of a swizz. Despite causing a sizeable fiery eruption when it crashes, the chopper remains curiously intact. Well, not that curiously, as Dacascos has yet to have his chop-socky showdown with Jet Li, so needs to be able to crawl out of the wreckage.

But with no major characters on-board, the second helicopter explodes with such force that the entire chassis is thrust into the sky before falling back to earth. We’re given plenty of time to savour the moment as the sequence is loving played out in slow motion and repeated several times for our delectation.

Exploding helicopter innovation

While not unique, this is an extremely rare example of a tank being used to destroy a helicopter.

Rambo III (1988) includes the earliest example we’ve seen, where the crazed General Zayan pilots one into a tank driven by Sylvester Stallone in one of the most gloriously over-the-top games of chicken ever put on the big screen.

Other examples can be seen in the film Courage Under Fire (1996) and XXX2: The Next Level.

Do passengers survive?

As already mentioned, Mark Dacascos crawls out of the wreckage though goodness knows how. Perhaps the villainous leather suit that he wears throughout has fire retardant qualities.

Positives

Cradle 2 The Grave has a ripe ridiculousness that makes it hard to resist. Logic and reality play no part in this film. Things happen for the sole reason that the audience may be entertained by them. And you know what? That's no bad thing.

Negatives

Martial arts fans presumably spent the whole film waiting for the showdown between Jet Li and Mark Dacascos. But when their fight finally comes we can’t enjoy it, as the scene is choppily filmed and the action keeps cutting to battles other characters are engaged in. Such shoddy editing ruins the flow of the duel and what should have been a highlight ends up as a damp squib.

Favourite line

Someone enquires of Jet Li: “What are you? Some kind of kung-fu James Bond?”

Interesting fact

Mark Dacascos was chosen as the villain for this film following a poll on Jet Li’s personal website asking which martial arts star his fans would most like to see him fight.

Review by: Jafo

The Eliminator

A dish is only as good as its ingredients. So when you take a generic storyline, add a non-actor as the leading man, and season with a low budget, you’re likely to end up with a plate of old tripe. Such is The Eliminator (2004).

Our star is former ultimate fighting champion Bas Rutten, who somehow decided a long career pummelling people in the face was ideal preparation for the thespian craft. But as this movie quickly shows, treading the boards requires a mite more skill and finesse than treading on someone’s windpipe.

He plays a down-on-his-luck professional powerboat racer, who’s drugged and kidnapped by an eccentric millionaire (Michael Rooker). It turns out the dastardly rich guy (aren’t they all?) wants Big Bas to take part in ‘The Eliminator’ - a deadly, kill-or-be-killed contest that pits uniquely talented desperadoes against each other.

Dumped on an escape-proof island, the contestants have to fight not only each other, but a horde of soldiers from Rooker’s private army. Still, the last man left alive will get a $10 million dollar prize. And the opportunity to continue breathing.

You’ll be forgiven for detecting a certain whiff of familiarity in the storyline, since it’s been reheated more times than a chip shop saveloy. (See The Running Man, Battle Royale and, more recently, The Hunger Games).

But at least those films threw in some cartoonish excess, savage social satire or earnest teen angst. And they had a few quid to throw around on splashy effects and diverting action scenes. The Eliminator, on the other hand, is not so much low-budget as no-budget.

Bas Rutten and Paul Logan have bromance moment

But for all that, you’ve still got to admire the gumption of the film-makers. After all, here they are, presenting a film about a powerboat racer that’s set on an island, when it appears their meagre budget didn’t stretch to filming anywhere near any real-life water.

This produces not a few comedy gold moments. Take, for example, the unmissable scene where Rutten has to build a raft to escape from the ‘island’.

Unsurprisingly, the only thing that really appears stranded here is the director. Stuck up a creek without a paddle (note: this metaphor is the closest the movie will come to actual water), he takes predictably desperate measures.

Namely, he plonks Bas on a patch of sandy-looking waste ground then dubs in the sound of invisible waves gently breaking on a shore. Honest, you can almost smell the briny.

Had a couple of stuffed seagulls suddenly dangled into shot at this point while someone made ‘caw-caw’ noises off-screen, it would have been no great surprise.

Further evidence of the film’s penury can been seen in the film’s pound shop cast. Bas Rutten may have eloquent fists, but is utterly defeated by the challenge of delivering a line of dialogue. (His reaction to being kidnapped and thrown into a death-match is to act as if he’s unexpectedly won an all-expenses paid holiday).

Even worse is muscle-bound beefcake Paul Logan (Mega Piranha), presumably one of few actors on the current scene to envy the range and versatility of Arnold Schwarzenegger.

That leaves Michael Rooker alone among the cast as the as the only capable thespian on display. A reliable supporting presence in films such as JFK and Guardians of the Galaxy, Big Mike is incapable of giving a bad performance.

The cast, most of whom are eliminated

(This is partly due to his strange strangulated voice that adds an earnest intensity to everything that he says). Ever the professional, Rooker delivers a typically committed turn that the material scarcely deserves.

And it is Rooker’s mad and murderous millionaire that helps set-up the film’s exploding helicopter scene.

Tediously, we have to wait until the end of the film for our favourite fiery delight. Rooker orders in a helicopter to hunt down Rutten. After locating their prey, a soldier tries to shoot our hero from his aerial vantage point.

Taking cover behind a tree, Rutten uses a rifle to shoot the chopper pilot in the head. While Exploding Helicopter is always ready to be surprised, we were fairly confident from this moment on that the whirlybird wasn’t going to make a safe landing.

Sure enough, the chopper spins towards the ground where it crashes, explodes and is – in the parlance of the film – eliminated.

Artistic merit

In keeping with the film’s shoddy standards, the viewer gets swizzed with the chopper fireball.

Actually blowing up a helicopter – or even something that looked like a helicopter – was clearly a budgetary impossibility. Therefore a dirty little cheat has to be employed

As the whirlybird makes its doomed descent it momentarily veers out of frame. The director then cuts hard to a generic shot of a fireball, where it’s impossible to tell what’s been blown up. Disgraceful.

Exploding helicopter innovation

Amid the cynical chicanery employed in the actual explosion, there is a little creativity for the jaded viewer. After Rutten fires his miracle shot at the pilot’s head, we cut to a point-of-view shot of the bullet making its way through the air in slow motion towards its target.

While it’s a long way from the fancy ‘bullet time’ cinematography in The Matrix, we were grateful for these crumbs of inventiveness.

Positives

There is a surprisingly decent scene early in the film. After being drugged and kidnapped, Rutten wakes to find himself in the back of a cargo airplane with the other Eliminator contestants.

Before anyone can find out what’s going on, Rutten and the rest of the competitors are hurled out of the back of the plane with parachutes.

It’s a cool idea (which is why why it's been used more effectively at the start of Predators) and heightens the disorientating confusion for the characters.

Negatives

Having gone to great pains to establish Rutten as a powerboat racer, the viewer spends a lot of the film waiting for this fact to become relevant to the plot. Even now, long after the film has finished, I’m still waiting.

It rather makes you wonder if an elaborate, postmodern joke is being played. Why else would you make a film about a powerboat champion building a raft in a dry, featureless waste?

Favourite line

Given the film’s death match premise, the inevitable “Game over!” makes a predictable but enjoyable appearance.

Review by: Jafo

Monsters vs Aliens

The Fifties: a time when smoking was good for you, women knew their place, and nuclear energy was glamorous and exciting.

The bold, new atomic age promised a future of unlimited energy, new medicines, and world peace. Of course, what we actually got was a Cold War, Chernobyl and bemused-looking sheep glowing away like a Ready Brek advert.

But there was at least one silver lining to the radioactive cloud: monster movies.

Hollywood, never slow to exploit the money-making potential of total global annihilation (witness pretty much the entire oeuvre of Roland Emmerich), found in radiation the perfect cinematic foil. At a stroke, atomic energy made plausible the existence of a series of terrifying, never-before-seen threats to humanity.

Just think of the excitement: movie producers were suddenly free to create monsters as outlandish and weird as their imaginations could command. (Provided, of course, said monsters could be made from rubber and have enough room inside for a stuntman to blunder around unconvincingly).

From these more enlightened times, such ideas seem patently childish. Which is probably why Dreamworks thought they’d be fertile ground for a gentle, family-friendly parody: Monsters vs Aliens (2009).

Our hero is Susan, an everyday small-town girl living a blandly anonymous life. However, her bucolic suburban existence is shattered when she’s transformed into a 49-foot-tall version of herself after being hit by a meteorite containing ‘quantonium’: the baffling-and-clearly-bollocks science element. (See also Scotty’s famed ‘dilethium crystals’ in Star Trek.)

Captured by the military, Susan is whisked off to a secret facility where other mutants are kept under lock and key. But then, wouldn’t you just know it, Earth only goes and gets itself threatened by some aliens (that other staple of Fifties sci-fi).

Susan: Attack of the '50s sci-fi cliches

Hey, it suddenly looks like Susan and her rag-tag collection of freakish friends – having been mistreated so badly – are going to have to save the day. We can only hope that those rotten suits who judged people by their appearance have learned their lesson, kids.

Given Monsters vs Aliens’ vintage inspirations there’s fun to be had in playing ‘spot the movie reference’. While 12 inches shorter, Susan is clearly a homage to Attack of the 50 Foot Woman.

And you don’t need the brain power of an atomic scientist to work out that ‘Bob’ - an indestructible blue gunge – is inspired by The Blob. The classic-era origins of the entertainingly waspish Dr Cockroach (The Fly) and the charmingly simple Missing Link (Creature from the Black Lagoon) are similarly easy to spot.

Enjoyable, as this good natured mimicry is, a nagging doubt gradually grows into an all-consuming question: does this film have an original idea of its own? Such doubts are thrown into sharp focus when, having exhausted the entire canon of Fifties classics, the film starts ransacking other famous sci-fi films from across the decades. Star Trek, Close Encounters of the Third Kind, and E.T are all gleefully plundered as the scriptwriters desperately search for more tropes to poke fun at.

And herein lies the problem. While it has a fun premise and is beautifully animated, the film is effectively one massive in-joke. And not a particularly clever one at that. The effect is rather like watching one of those dreadful ‘Top 100’ shows, where a kaleidoscope of familiar scenes are served up devoid of context and meaning.

Still, at least Monsters vs Aliens doesn’t have Jodie Marsh and Bryan from Big Brother 2 sharing witless (and made up) anecdotes. Small mercies and all that.

Thankfully, there’s also an exploding helicopter scene to maintain our interest. This takes place early in the film. After she’s captured by the military, the newly 49 foot tall Susan is escorted to her cell by two helicopters.

As she protests her imprisonment, pleading that she poses no danger to anyone, she accidentally slaps a helicopter. With its rotor blades crumpled, the damaged chopper spins round out of control before crashing to the ground and exploding. Sorry Susan, you were saying?

Artistic merit

It’s well enough done. The helicopter explosion is really just a punchline to a joke, and not the climax of a dramatic scene, so it’s fairly perfunctory.

Exploding helicopter innovation

First known helicopter explosion in an animated movie. First helicopter to be destroyed by a petulant 49-foot-tall-woman.

Do passengers survive?

No. The camera lingers on the bloody and charred remains… Of course the pilot survives. This is an animated children’s film, for heaven’s sake: not Apocalypse Now.

Positives

Appropriately for a film about invaders from outer space, a galaxy of Hollywood stars lend their vocal talents to the film. Personal favourite was Kiefer Sutherland turn as the grizzly, gruff, and gung-ho General W.R Monger – a name guaranteed to raise a smile with weak pun enthusiasts everywhere.

Negatives

You have to wonder whether the scriptwriters, giddy with so many in-jokes, actually forgot they were writing a children’s film. It’s hard to imagine most six-year olds would have a working knowledge of Fifties B-movie sci-fi.

Pixar has built a multi-billion dollar empire from remembering to throw in a few decent jokes for the grown-ups, but here it’s definitely the kids who are the afterthought.

Favourite quote

After learning of the alien invasion of Earth, the President announces, “Boys, set the terror level to code brown ‘cause I need to change my pants.”

Interesting fact

Despite a less than impressive critical reception, the film has curiously – four years on – spawned an animated TV series charting the group’s further adventures.

Review by: Jafo