HOLLYWOOD HARD BASTARDS VOL. 3: BRAVEHEART (1995)

  As fate would have it, for the third instalment of my one-movie-a-day-for-a-year quest into the realm of Hard Bastard-dom, the Tub of Death follows up Mel Gibson’s directorial debut with his next effort, the historically questionable, but gloriously thrill-packed Braveheart. Once again Mel stars, this time as real-life Scottish hero William Wallace, a commoner who revolts against English invaders in the late thirteenth century, eventually becoming a great leader and iconic figure in the War of Independence. Though Gibson took some stick for applying a heavy dose of artistic license to the unfolding of historic events (did Wallace really hump the French princess?!!?), there can certainly be no denying that this near three hour epic is still a stirring, emotionally-involving and action-packed corker of a film that quite deservingly won a host of Oscars, including Best Picture. As a cheeky bonus, it’s also violent as hell, with Gibson’s Wallace proving to be an iconic, sword-swinging action hero for the ages. Not bad for a dude in a skirt.

  In the struggle to vanquish the English intruders, Wallace proves himself to be that rare breed of hero who has equal amounts brains to complement his considerable brawn. Having moved abroad at a young age to be educated by his uncle (the legendary Brian Cox), following the murder of his father at English hands, he returns home a man, ready to lead a rebellion. His first act upon arrival is to prove how hard he is by engaging in a ‘test of manhood’ with his old best pal Hamish (Brendan Gleeson), which basically involves grown men chucking massive rocks as hard and as far as they can. Though Hamish bests him, Wallace points out that the real test of a soldier is ‘not in his arm,’ but in his brain, before proceeding to prove how doubly hard he is by refusing to flinch as his pal lobs a bloody great big boulder that narrowly misses his head. Then, for good measure, he knocks the guy unconscious with a pebble, just to prove his point. Nice.

  It doesn’t take the guy long to woo the ladies either, picking up where he left off with childhood sweetheart Murron (Catherine McCormack). The cheeky charmer proves to be pretty smooth for a savage, chatting her up in French and before you can say ‘voulez-vous coucher avec moi…’ they’re married. Quick work!

  Things turn ugly when the arrogant English invaders, ‘exercising their noble right,’ try to have their way with her, provoking Wallace into a scrap where he solidifies his badass credentials by taking on a whole battalion of armed swordsmen, initially with nothing more than rocks and his mighty fists. During the battle, Wallace proves himself to be quite deadly with all manner of weaponry, from swords and spears to bloody great big hammers, showing no mercy and inspiring his people to take up arms and fight with him. When his missus is captured and killed, the woad really hits the fan, with the furious Wallace galvanising his people and leading them into massive, chaotic battles where the English quickly discover that vengeance wears a kilt…

  Gibson’s Wallace is an almost unfeasibly cool customer, swaggering across battlefields and into the territory of an enemy that far outnumbers his army and coolly telling them that Scotland is free, end of story, and that if the English know what’s good for them they should bugger off. Putting those ‘Mad Mel’ eyes to good use, as part of his terms, he even dementedly demands that a rival commander cross the battlefield, where he will be invited to pucker up and kiss his own arse. Of course they do no such thing, but Wallace proves a master tactician, taking advantage of his opponents’ arrogance to set up cool little traps and diversions that catch them completely off guard to win battles against impossible odds. In one tremendous set-piece, massive rows of English horsemen foolishly charge at Wallace’s men, thinking them easy pickings, only to discover that the Scots have lured them into a trap and they’re all tooled up with huge spears, becoming a massive human hedgehog. It is a breathtaking, savage, wonderfully conceived cinematic moment, with Wallace at the heart of it all, relishing the carnage and vengefully lopping off heads amidst one of the most bloodthirsty battle scenes aver filmed.

  The Scot quickly builds up a reputation as an ultimate, mighty warrior, so much so that newcomers to the resistance refuse to believe he is who he says he is and are a bit sceptical about following him. At this, Wallace proudly booms, ‘Aye, I hear he’s seven foot tall, kills men by the hundred and fights the English with fire from his eyes and lightning bolts from his arse!” His humour wins the men over, Gibson showing off his laudable Scots accent while delivering one of cinema’s most rousing, electrifying speeches. You know the one: it ends with him shouting ‘…FRREEEEEDDDOOOOMMM!!!!’ and his entire army lifting up their kilts to bare their bums at rather-frightened English archers.

  Throughout the picture, Gibson pulls out all the stops to ensure that Wallace will be remembered as one helluva Hard Bastard. His gallantry in battle and daring tactics earn him a knighthood, but he doesn’t stop there. He shows his enemies how mental he really is by sending them severed heads in the post, and rides into the house of a traitor to bash his head in with a gargantuan ball-and-chain while he sleeps. It says a lot that the conspirator was already haing a nightmare about Wallace just before the attack. He is a seriously tough cookie.

  He furthers his almighty badass credentials by refusing to compromise in the face of oppression. When the English offer him land and a title in exchange for a truce, he swiftly tells them where to stick it. When he loses a battle and discovers he has been betrayed by men he loved and trusted, the dude still gets back on his horse and fights on, furthering his legend and inspiring his people further.

  Hell, Wallace proves so dashing and daring that the French Princess of Wales decides to betray King Edward, purely because she fancies him. Going against the history books, Gibson would even have us believe that Wallace seduces her and gets her pregnant, meaning that second in line to the English throne is actually his bloody kid. Now that’s a hero, right there!

  Even when he is captured and facing death, the grizzled Scot is triumphantly gallus. Knowing his life will be spared if he pledges allegiance to his captor, Wallace flat out refuses, understanding that his absolute defiance stands as a beacon of hope: something for his downtrodden people to believe in and fight for. Solemnly, he declares, ‘Every man dies…not every man really lives,’ gallantly accepting his fate as a martyr for his countrymen, so that freedom might eventually return to the land he loves. It is proper legendary heroic behaviour, and as the Princess begs with him to drink an elxir that will numb the pain during his impending torture, the warrior quite brilliantly exclaims, ‘No…it will numb my wits, and I must have them. If I am senseless and I wail, then they will have broken me.’ He is one seriously tough cookie.

  His death is suitably gnarly and grisly, ‘the awful price of treason,’ as his assailants put it. Publicly tortured, his body is wrecked as he is hung by the neck, pulled apart by horses, then finally, horribly mutilated, all while his persecutors implore him to beg for mercy. Yet the courageous freedom fighter never yields, clinging to his hopes, beliefs and integrity until the bitter end. During the film’s inspirational, awe-inspiring, reach-for-the –hankies crescendo, with his last breath Wallace roars his final word, a powerful call-to-arms and a sign to his enemies that he and his people will never be broken: FREEDOM. What a dude.

THE RATING:

INDESTRUCTIBILITY: 8/10 - Wallace takes a hell of a beating and never gives up, though he does die in the end.

COMBAT SKILLS: 8/10 – Busts his enemies up with anything he can get his hands on, and with some style too.

ATTITUDE: 10/10 – Even in death, he sticks to his guns. A total hero.

OUTRAGEOUSNESS: 8/10 Flashes his bum at his enemies and order them to kiss their own arses. Mental.

BODY COUNT: 33 in 175 minutes – impressive, but somehow you really do feel like it should have been more – 3/10

MEL’S SCORE: 37/50 – Not bad!

MEL’S AVERAGE: 25/50

HOLLYWOOD HARD BASTARDS VOL. 2: THE MAN WITHOUT A FACE (1993)

It’s an interesting, leftfield surprise for day two of the challenge. Despite being a perfectly respectable directorial debut for Mel Gibson, who also serves up a powerful, brooding performance as the film’s star, 1993’s The Man Without A Face is nevertheless a bit of a letdown in the Hard Bastard stakes. In the adaptation of Isabelle Holland’s 1972 novel of the same name, Mel is Justin McLeod, a painter who has been living a reclusive existence in a small 1962 Maine town, due to a mysterious accident that has left his face and torso hideously disfigured. The locals fear him, as he “never comes out of his dungeon,” but disappointingly he is not an isolated, retired special-ops assassin just waiting to be called out of retirement for once last all-action assignment.

 A former teacher, McLeod crosses paths with Chuck Norstadt (impressive child star Nick Stahl), a troubled young boy who desperately wants to pass a military academy’s entrance exam, and who sees the damaged scholar as his best hope for success. Over an enlightening, soul-searching summer, the two form a unique friendship and learn some important life lessons about loyalty and not judging people by appearances, when some alarming revelations are made about McLeod’s past.

  The lead pair share remarkable chemistry and the picture is full of moving, memorable moments, but there is a distinct lack of breathtaking, high-octane action. It is a ‘talky’ film and very little blows up or is threatened by terrorists. In fact, nobody gets shot or maimed at all, and those expecting an exciting, explosive explanation for McLeod’s disfigurement will probably be disappointed.

  Gibson certainly delivers a towering, commanding performance from under some convincing prosthesis, proving that he is much more than a simple action man. Happily, his character is still a bit of a  hardass, the kind of guy who helps the kid learn by making him dig massive holes out back and subjects him to other messy, physically exhausting tasks that help him learn in a fun, roundabout way, kind of like Mr Miyagi. He may not shoot anyone, but Mel is on heroic form here, taking a big chance on a poor kid whose ditzy  mother has had three kids by three different guys and who says things like “I’m not cut out for this mothering racket!” McLeod guides him through a turbulent time by helping him get over his daddy issues and achieve his dreams, and while the pizza-faced tutor may regularly paint and recite Shakepseare, it is to Gibson’s credit that the prof always remains rugged, masculine and dangerous, threatening to explode into a frightening fit of rage at any moment. He maintains a tough, steely exterior, wary of letting anyone in and quietly simmers away, keeping us guessing as to what his secret is.

  When McLeod’s secret is revealed, despite not involving helicopters or ninjas, it is still a doozy. Creepy ‘did-he-or-didn’t he?’ revelations about his past and how he came to be in his current predicament flip his relationship with young Norstadt on its head, forcing us to question our feelings about their friendship and his intentions. Brilliantly, Gibson decides to keep things delightfully ambiguous which makes the film stand out as a daring, provocative debut. For Lethal Weapon fans who have rented this one by mistake, he even chucks in a bonus glimpse of the wild-eyed Mad Mel we know and love in a thrilling scene where haunted, exacerbated McLeod contemplates suicide and plays chicken with an oncoming articulated lorry. Sadly, the scene does not end in incendiary vehicular carnage, but it is nice to see Mel throwing the action junkies a bone.

  Any battles in this one are either metaphorical or fought in a courtroom with words and truth, rather than swords and grenades, but the film is still worth a watch, even if it doesn’t exactly do much to solidify Mel’s badass Hard Bastard credentials. The Man Without a Face was Mel discovering his groove in the director’s chair, playing it safe before going all-out with the gargantuan, arsecheek-baring, savage battles of Braveheart and is a small, wonderfully observed examination of a tender, unlikely friendship. If you like that sort of thing.

THE RATINGS;

INDESTRUCTIBILTY: 2/10 Just one look at him tells you he is only too human, though he gets points for standing up to persecution.

COMBAT SKILLS: 1/10 He fights his fights with words and thoughts. That’s rubbish.

ATTITUDE: 6/10 He heroically takes the kid under his wing when everyone else has given up. But what about those allegations…?

OUTRAGEOUSNESS: 4/10 Plays chicken with a big truck! But that’s it, really. Even the accident that disfigured him sounds kinda crap.

BODY COUNT: 0 in 115 minutes. Rubbish. 0/10

MEL’S SCORE: A generous 13/50

HOLLYWOOD HARD BASTARDS VOL. 1: INVASION U.S.A (1985)

  

And so it begins…

  It’s New Year’s Day 2013 and I am tired, grumpy and up far too early. But I’m excited, as today is the day my descent into action movie Hard Bastard insanity begins. Pleasingly, the first film out of the Tub of Death is a belter: Missing In Action director Joseph Zito’s insane 1985 actioner Invasion U.S.A. Co-written by main star Chuck Norris, this barmy tale about a one-man-army’s attempts to rescue America from a full-on terrorist invasion is enjoyable, easy viewing and a perfect start to my Hard Bastards experiment.

  Norris is Matt Hunter, an unfeasibly indomitable semi-retired Special Forces agent-cum-alligator wrangler, enjoying his solitude in the Florida swamps. However, when the villainous Rostov - a spy whose life hunter once spared, under orders from his CIA bosses – plans to unleash a reign of terror on US soil, Hunter must leave the quiet life behind and return to doing what he does best: Kicking  terrorist butt! These are terrorists of the worst kind, dispassionately bombing shopping malls, shooting helpless refugees and vaporizing a suburban neighbourhood…at Christmas!!! While their motives are never really explained, these are baddies that you desperately want to see punished and Chuck is only too happy to oblige. This is one of those outrageous Cannon films from the 80s, when action films were really over-the-top, violent and bloodthirsty – put simply, it’s a berserk, trigger-happy, forgotten classic.

  Hunter is an action man with a reputation so great that the villains feel they have to murder him before they even begin their mission, almost as if they know he’s the only man alive who could stop them. In fact, Hunter is so damn tough, Rostov – a child-killing, woman-hating psychopathic sonofabitch – actually has nightmares about him. Nightmares where instead of shooting him when he has the chance, Hunter just boots him in the face for fun. He really is quite hard. His cronies think he’s crazy, but Rostov insists “as long as he’s breathing, he’s a threat!” Nice.

  Ironically, when approached with intel about the impending situation, the veteran had told his bosses where to stick the assignment, but when the baddies decide to bazooka his house with his best pal inside, all bets are off. Hunter is so tough he survives the assault that completely decimates his house by jumping through a plate glass window and rises from the ashes to seek REVENGE. It is a truly awesome cinematic moment, as the stoic tough guy carries his deceased gator-wrangling buddy through the remains of the burning house, with the most affecting stern expression on his face. It’s this look that says all we need to know about his character: emanating a grizzled, world-weariness from his tired eyes, he’s not sad, just disappointed, like he knew this day would come. The past has caught up with him and it is time to put things right. There is no time for tears, as Hunter walks straight from the wreckage to his awesome swamp-cruising airboat and heads off on a collision course with destiny. It is simultaneously ridiculous and astonishing: a classic action movie moment.

  It takes an age for Chuck to actually kill anyone in this one, but the way things slowly build up and the more we learn about his character, we just know that when he is called into action it’s going to be BOOM time. Meeting in a gloriously grimy dive bar, supercool Hunter finally accepts the assignment, leaving the suits to pick up his tab. Then, completely fearless, the unflappable warrior drives his jeep straight through quite possibly the most blood-curdling, dodgiest neighbourhoods on earth, populated with fearsome pimps, hos, punks, gangbangers and numerous unsavoury types who attack his car, while barely batting an eyelid. He is totally focussed - there is only the mission.

 When he does finally take on the baddies, the action is suitably riotous. As one guy is stabbed through the hand for the purpose of extracting information, steely-eyed Hunter dares his muscle-bound lackeys to intervene, brilliantly goading, “If you come back in here, I’m gonna hit you with so many rights, you’re gonna beg me for a left!” Their fear is palpable as after busting a few heads, Hunter signs with his catchphrase: “Tell Rostov…it’s time to die.”

  From here on in, it’s non-stop bonkers action mayhem, with Hunter proving himself to be a seemingly unstoppable juggernaut of justice. So many bullets are fired at this man, it’s a wonder he doesn’t get lead poisoning, but time and time again he emerges unscathed. In fact, I don’t think anyone even gets close to touching him, never mind hurting him. Whether leaping onto the sides of speeding cars, single-handedly taking on a helicopter, or removing a bomb from a school bus, just to chuck it straight back at the bastards who put it there, Hunter emerges as the quintessential valiant all-American action hero. Constantly putting himself in the line of fire to rescue those weaker than himself, he is never anything less than heroic: a determined, swaggering one-man rocket-launching freedom force, here to clean up the streets. Even in the midst of a thrilling car chase, where the despicable terrorists hang an innocent girl from the window as a human shield, Hunter never, ever looks worried or phased – he’s on the side of the angels and he knows it. It’s no wonder Melissa Prophet’s gutsy journalist repeatedly refers to him as ‘The Cowboy.’

  This mask of utter coolness never slips, Hunter stalking slowly but confidently from each danger zone to the next. There is next to zero characterisation in this film, but that barely matters when you have a hero so tough, so Shaft-supercool that he tells the goddamn CIA what to do. His greatest moment, though, may just be when, arrested for vigilantism, he is interviewed on live TV and stares right into the lens to address his nemesis, proclaiming, almost prophetically, “One night, you’ll close your eyes…and when you open them…I’ll be there…And then it’ll be time to die.”

  The carnage is consistently aesthetically pleasing, with plenty of tanks, choppers, cars and buildings exploding spectacularly as civil war rages across the country. Norris gets the chance to wield all sorts of impressive ordnance, including one exceptionally Big Fucking Gun (B.F.G.), but pleasingly doesn’t forget to showcase the martial arts skills that made him famous. Running around with two machine guns, Hunter occasionally throws a few expertly timed kicks in there too, just because it looks cool.

  Though the furious final showdown with Rostov takes place in the exceptionally dull surroundings of an abandoned office building, the battle is nevertheless a cracker, the arch enemies audaciously squaring off in a ludicrous Mexican standoff with bazookas. As Hunter whispers “It’s time…” it is a suitably mental crescendo to a wonderfully mental film that shows that Chuck Norris is one Hard Bastard who it’s going to be difficult to beat. Happy New Year!

THE RATINGS:

INDESTRUCTIBILITY:  10/10 – This guy is bulletproof

COMBAT SKILLS: 7/10 – He kicks major ass, but maybe depends on his guns too much.

ATTITUDE: 10/10 Unflappable, gallant, hard-as-nails: an All-American Hero.

OUTRAGEOUSNESS: 8/10 Bazooka fight, anyone?

BODY COUNT: 30 kills in 107 minutes? Solid but unremarkable. 3/10

CHUCK’S SCORE: 38/50

HOLLYWOOD HARD BASTARDS - The Beginning...

HOLLYWOOD HARD BASTARDS:

A YEAR-LONG MOVIE MISSION

by Gary Anderson

Mission Statement

  They’re unkillable, unstoppable, unflappable and irresistible. They’re the masters of the outrageous, racking up unfeasibly high body counts, smirking in the face of danger, always ready with a sly quip or a blistering pun, right before they blow the shit out of absolutely everything. Charismatic, stoic and determined, these Spartans never give up, overcoming unbelievable odds and despicable villains to save the day. They’re cinema’s greatest warriors, titans who walk among us, proving time and time again that no problem, however big or small, can’t be solved without a hearty fistful of dynamic, pulse-quickening, edge-of-your-seat violence.

They’re the Schwarzeneggers, the Van Dammes, the Stallones. They’re living legends. They’re Hollywood’s Hardest Bastards.

  But who is the hardest action hero of them all? Which of Hollywood’s toughest, most grizzled wisecracking bullet-dodgers is more insanely badass than all the rest? The Expendables brought many of the action greats together, but as a team. How much more fun would that movie have been if it was one big testosterone-filled battle royale that finally revealed which gung-ho He-Man is the mightiest of the bunch?  

  This will be my quest. Using my own dodgy, quasi-scientific criteria, from January 1^st 2013 I will be watching and analysing at least one film each day from the back catalogue of Hollywood’s ten toughest hombres in order to determine, once and for all, by the law of averages, who is the greatest living ass-kicker of them all. Never mind which star has made the most films, earned the most money or won the most awards. This isn’t about artful mise-en-scene or stirring cinematography. This is about determining, film-for-film, which rock-hard chiselled champion stands head and shoulders above the rest. Every morning for one whole year, I will pick one film at random from the Celebrations Tub of Death to chronicle and rate each Hard Bastard’s performance according to my own carefully considered set of criteria.

  This mission will not just involve watching the classics of the action genre, like Die Hard, Predator or First Blood, though I will be watching those too. That would be far too easy. No, in order to be completely fair, this undertaking must also encompass each star’s cinematic turkeys, their risible direct-to-video obscurities, and the early career oddities. The only material ruled out for selection will include TV shows, made-for-TV movies, cameos and uncredited appearances and the vast majority of appearances in children’s films. However, if the Hard Bastard has starred in a film where butt has been kicked or baddies have been blown to smithereens, you can rest assured it will be included here.

THE HARD BASTARDS 

So, who are our contenders? It was tough to decide (sorry Snipes), but after much careful deliberation, here, in no particular order, are the Toughest Ten, each of whom have accrued a significant body of legendary, bone-snapping action movie work:

ARNOLD SCHWARZENEGGER

Arnold Schwarzenegger was born on July 30, 1947, near Graz, Austria. With an almost unpronounceable surname and a thick Austrian accent, who would have ever believed that a brash, quick talking bodybuilder from a small European village would become one of Hollywood's biggest stars, marry into the prestigious Kennedy family, amass a fortune via shrewd investments and one day become the Governor of California? A distinguished Hard Bastard.

MEL GIBSON

Born in Peekskill, NY on January 3, 1956, Mel Gibson moved to Australia during his youth and went on to pursue a film career. After appearing in the Mad Max and Lethal Weapon series, Gibson eventually directed and starred in the Academy Award-winning Braveheart and directed The Passion of the Christ. Outside of his work, Gibson has been accused of homophobia, anti-semitism, racism and misogyny. A mad Hard Bastard.

CLINT EASTWOOD

Born on May 31, 1930 in San Francisco, California, Clint Eastwood got his big break starring on the TV western Rawhide. He then became immensely popular as a tough guy via a string of Sergio Leone movie westerns and the Dirty Harry franchise. In recent years, Eastwood has directed many films, including the Academy Award-winning projects Unforgiven, Mystic River, Million Dollar Baby and Changeling. An old school Hard Bastard.

BRUCE WILLIS

Born Walter Bruce Willison on March 19, 1955, in West Germany, Bruce Willis's career was launched when he played wisecracking David Addison on TV's Moonlighting opposite Cybill Shepherd. In the summer of 1988, Die Hard, an action-packed flick that cast Willis as the muscle-pumping hero, hit movie screens with a bang, and his status as a bona fide movie star was minted.  A cocky Hard Bastard.

JASON STATHAM

English born, Syndenham, London raised, Statham is the second son of a dancer and a lounge singer. Although he had artistic talent running through his veins, he instead focused on his athletic abilities at the high dive. His diving abilities were so impressive that he joined the British Olympic team in 1988 in Seoul, Korea. After 10 years in the National Diving Squad, a talent agent led him to the modeling industry. Broke into acting in such an unconventional way, Jason Statham has really found his path in the film industry through his work in action pictures like The Transporter and soared to be one of the most popular actors of the genre by the 21st century. The young upstart Hard Bastard.

STEVEN SEAGAL

He's an action superstar surrounded by controversy and crime. Steven Fredric Seagal was born on 10 April 1952 in Lansing, Michigan where he lived until he was five years old. Seagal started his martial arts training at the age of seven, travelling to Japan at the age of 17, where he taught English and perfected his martial arts skills, paving the way for him to work his way into the movie industry. He skyrocketed to fame in 1988 with an action-packed debut in Above the Law, but long before then, he was known to martial arts insiders as the first Caucasian to open his own aikido dojo in Japan. Also an accomplished and celebrated musician. A cultured Hard Bastard.

JEAN-CLAUDE VAN DAMME

Jean-Claude Camille François Van Varenberg, better known to movie audiences as JCVD, ‘The Muscles from Brussels,’ is a Belgian martial artist, actor, and director best known for his martial arts action films. After studying martial arts intensively from the age of ten, Van Damme achieved national success in Belgium as a martial artist and bodybuilder. He emigrated to the United States in 1982 to pursue a career in film, and achieved success with Bloodsport. His martial arts assets, highlighted by his ability to deliver a kick to an opponent's head during a leaping 360-degree turn, and his good looks led to starring roles in higher budgeted movies like Cyborg, A.W.O.L.: Absent Without Leave, and Universal Soldier. Most recently seen hamming it up in dodgy beer commercials. A roundhouse-kicking Hard Bastard.

DOLPH LUNDGREN

A graduate in chemistry from Washington State University, chemical engineering from the Royal Institute of Technology in Stockholm and the University of Sydney in Sydney, Australia in 1982, Lundgren holds a rank of 3rd dan black belt in Kyokushin Karate and was European champion in 1980 and 1981. While in Sydney, he became a bodyguard for Jamaican singer Grace Jones and began a relationship with her. They moved together to New York City, where after a short stint as a model and bouncer at the Manhattan nightclub The Limelight, Jones got him a small debut role in the James Bond film A View to a Kill. Lundgren's breakthrough came when he starred in Rocky IV in 1985 as the imposing Russian boxer Ivan Drago. Since then, he has starred in more than 40 movies, almost all of them in the action genre. So hard, masked burglars abandoned a robbery after discovering the home they had targeted was his. Smart thieves, and a smart Hard Bastard.

CHUCK NORRIS

Born on March 10, 1940, Chuck Norris started studying martial arts in Korea in the 1950s. He was serving in the U.S. Air Force at the time. When he returned home, Norris soon opened his karate studio. He switched to movies in the 1970s, appearing with Bruce Lee in Return of the Dragon. Norris became a popular action-film star in the 1980s, and starred in his own television series in the 1990s. Chuck Norris doesn’t call the wrong number. You answer the wrong phone. A legendary Hard Bastard.

SYLVESTER STALLONE

Born on July 6, 1946, in New York City, Sylvester Stallone is one of the most popular Hollywood action stars of all time, playing such iconic characters as John Rambo and Rocky Balboa. Stallone got his start writing and starring in Rocky, going on to become one of Hollywood's highest paid actors, usually playing monosyllabic, anti-society, underdog heroes and also known for his machismo. Stallone is an American actor, screenwriter, film director, filmmaker and occasional painter. While Stallone has attempted to extend his range into film comedies and drama, his real box office success continues in action films. The underdog Hard Bastard.

THE CRITERIA 

The big question is, how have these ten titans managed to endure? What qualities have ensured that these are the guys who immediately spring to mind when we think of bullet-riddled, high-octane, skull-cracking movie mayhem?

  Rated out of ten, the first of five criteria of judgement for considering a Hard Bastard’s kickass credentials will be INDESTRUCTIBILITY. A true hero dominates, consistently overcoming unbelievable odds. Men fear, respect and obey them and women want them, as they are so damn tough as to appear nigh-on unkillable, battling on, despite life-threatening injury, through storms of bullets, in the name of truth, justice or good old-fashioned survival. A real action star displays a superhuman, tenacious bouncebackability that sets him apart from the pack. Put simply, he cannot be stopped.

  Our heroes will also be judged on the impressiveness of their COMBAT SKILLS. Far from being simple bruisers, these hardmen dispatch their prey with grace confidence and a sleekness that turns killing into a gorgeous, balletic art-form. The Hard Bastard does everything with style and force, but when he’s on his game, there is nothing forced about it. Be it by kung fu, household implements or just a bloody big gun, extra points will be awarded for any bloodshed that involves a healthy dose of aesthetically pleasing, expertly choreographed imaginative creativity.

  Also important is a Hard Bastard’s ATTITUDE – his view on life and the set of values that he embodies. True heroes display courage, commitment and honour, cutting a swathe through red tape and bureaucratic bullshit to do what’s right, no matter how difficult it may be. More often than not these hardy hotshots do all this with a smile on their face and a killer wisecrack on the tip of their tongue, exuding an inner and outer strength that lets the bad guys know exactly who the baddest cat in the room is. Of course, there will be extra points for pitch-perfect puns and effortless success with the ladies.

  The fourth important quality for consideration in this battle of badassery is that which makes the hero truly memorable: his sheer OUTRAGEOUSNESS. These warriors stand out in history because, with a little movie magic, their actions often verge, quite brilliantly, on the sheer ridiculous. Whether they’re displaying a MacGuyver-like resourcefulness for getting themselves out of difficult scrapes, or pulling off insane, death-defying stunts, these guys consistently prove that they are capable of far more than mere mortals. From leaping from great heights to taking out helicopters with speeding automobiles, these Hard Bastards leave their mark, casually doing the sorts of things we can only dream of, the kind of insane, inspiring action that makes you leap from your seat and punch the air with a hearty ‘HELL YEAH!’ These guys blow stuff up in the most spectacular ways, assuring their immortality, and suffice to say, points will be awarded for inspired ludicrousness.

  Finally, each hard-boiled hero will be judged on the scale of their cinematic BODYCOUNT. Plain and simple, a true action star gains his stripes by offing a whole heap of bad guys and I will be counting each and every kill in every movie. Points will be awarded appropriately, determined by kills-per-minute in relation to the standard set by Stallone in Rambo (2008) with 87 kills in 92 minutes(!) It’s science, folks.

 So, there you have it. I am about to embark on what I hope will be an exciting, entertaining, enlightening and life-changing journey. It’s going to be one hell of a year and God knows how I am going to manage to squeeze in an action flick every single day (I just got engaged – uh oh!) but it’s going to be fun finding out! Of course much of my findings will be purely subjective, but by this time next year, I will hope to prove, once and for all, who is the toughest hardest bastard in the universe.

Yippie Ki Yay, movie-lovers!

MOVIEBOOZER

Check out these reviews I have contributed to Movieboozer.com!
Get some beers in and enjoy.
Halloween III: Season of the Witch:
http://movieboozer.com/2012/10/24/halloween-iii-season-witch-1982-2/
The Blair Witch Project:
http://movieboozer.com/2012/10/19/blair-witch-project-1999/
Book of Shadows: Blair Witch 2:
http://movieboozer.com/2012/10/19/book-shadows-blair-witch-2-2000/

SLANTED AND ENCHANTED - THE FAIRY TALE MOVIE RENAISSANCE

Once upon a time, in a faraway realm called Hollywoodland, there lived a powerful mogul. He had a wonderful looking-glass, and he stood in front of it and looked at himself in it, and said, “Looking-glass, looking-glass, on the wall, what’s a safe bet for a gigantic financial haul?”

  Magically flickering to life, the looking-glass answered, “Fairy Tale Movies, my king. The punters will love them.” And the king was satisfied, for he knew that the mirror spoke the truth.

“Oh, and get Kristen Stewart,” the looking-glass added, “She’s so hot right now.”

  2012 is fast becoming the Year of the Fairy Tale. Locked away in their castles, the movie men have been engaged in some kind of sorcery, with at least fifteen major big-screen adaptations of classic fables currently in production and a slew of others in development, after Tim Burton’s surprise billion-dollar box-office success with 2010’s vivid Alice in Wonderland opened the eyes of many a magnate to the commercial possibilities of these enduring, classic tales. This year, audiences have already been treated to two decidedly divergent versions of Snow White, in the shape of Tarsem Singh’s family-friendly Julia Roberts vehicle Mirror Mirror, and Rupert Sanders’ markedly morose Kristen Stewart starrer, Snow White and the Huntsman. Though Mirror…, with its jaunty musical numbers and mugging Nathan Lane faltered at the box office, the $300 million gross of the far more austere …Huntsman has proven that there remains something positively spellbinding about the fairy tale formula that is built to last.

  Already on the slate for this year is Usual Suspects helmer Bryan Singer’s big budget vision of Jack the Giant Killer, featuring X-Men: First Class star Nicholas Hoult battling Bill Nighy’s 22 foot tall CGI ogre. Hot on its enormous heels comes the ridiculously high concept Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters, with Avengers’ Jeremy Renner and Prince of Persia’s Gemma Arterton as adult, bloodthirsty bounty-hunter versions of the eponymous duo, suggesting there’s plenty of mileage left in these age-old fables.

  Accounting for their bewitching popularity, Jack Zipes, one of the leading authorities on fairy tales, wrote in his book, What Dreams Come True, that these stories emanate from ‘specific struggles to humanise bestial and barbaric forces which have terrorised our minds and communities in concrete ways, threatening to destroy free will and human compassion. The fairy tale sets out to conquer this concrete terror through metaphors.’

    Deep stuff, but for many, Zipes’ words surely ring true. These are the tales we are told as children, imparting wisdom, fostering development and helping us work through confusion and anxiety in a sugar-coated ‘once upon a time’ way. Thanks to Walt Disney’s ‘safe’, technicolour animated interpretations, and the straightforward way they deal with common truths and feelings, stories like Cinderella and The Little Mermaid carry a comfortable predictability and will forever hold an important place in the collective subconscious, remaining ripe for artistic reinvention.

  By taking universally understood symbols, or archetypes – think ‘witch’, ‘prince’, ‘princess’, ‘magic beans/sword/whatever’ – these familiar yarns, in the hands of different storytellers, can be eternally recycled in strange new settings, yet can always be relied on to deliver certain fundamental, familiar features. Some symbols, like ‘Jack’s beanstalk’ will always be an integral component of their respective tales, and Dr Laura Martin, a senior lecturer in Comparative Literature at the University of Glasgow, and an expert on Grimm tales, has reflected on the significance of these enduring motifs: ‘There’s a huge growth going up into the sky…why is that? It’s connecting earth to the sky. It’s the realm of something beyond the human, so it’s that connection with something bigger…Psychologically, it’s brilliant. So, life is boring, life is dull, but what if I made it to that magical realm?’ Escapism is a huge part of our movie-going experience and with our ticket, we purchase more than just entertainment – these tales, when told well,  bring us that little bit closer to the kingdom of our dreams.

 The malleability of these stories, stemming from centuries of retellings, has recently seen filmmakers cook up all manner of curious interpretations. Last year, Catherine Hardwicke’s Red Riding Hood attempted to distil the success of her yearning, sexually-charged, pretty young things Twilight template into the fairy tale mould, delivering a thoroughly ridiculous, yet straight-faced guilty pleasure. Likewise, Julia Leigh’s provocative Sleeping Beauty tapped into and drastically amplified the eroticism of the classic tale, ensuring audiences would never be able to look at Lemony Snicket’s Emily Browning in quite the same way again.

  These mouldable, magical tales have been around for as long as stories have been told, but it is surely a sign of the times that so many remarkable renditions are sailing into cinemas at once. In an industry currently banking the big money on sequels, franchises and remakes, the public’s fondness for fairy tales must seem like a license to print money. But what is it that compels us to return to them, time and time again?

 Martin argues that, in morally ambiguous times,  they teach us how to be upstanding citizens: ‘What we have now as fairy tales were probably once told round the fireside…people singing, telling tales, doing jokes, but they’re somehow making meaning. They’re learning how to behave and how not to behave. That’s a basic fairy tale message – do the right thing at the right time.’

 This relevance of fairy tales as moral parables could be vital in explaining the renaissance of all things fantastic. An important touchstone for Martin is the work of Carl Jung, who believed that a ‘collective consciousness,’ including values shared by all human beings, can be revealed through the peculiar symbols and archetypes found in our favourite fantasy tales. Referencing the stuttering economy, she explains, ‘everything’s falling apart and maybe it’s giving us this kind of core…that we all want the same thing and we magically hone in on the same sort of tale.’ In these uncertain times, perhaps we all need the solace of happy endings.

 It can be no coincidence that many of these retellings, particularly Sanders’ …Huntsman, with its gruesome visuals and Charlize Theron’s genuinely terrifying villainess, are returning these tales to decidedly darker territory than Uncle Walt ever envisioned. It’s easy to forget that before Disney gave it a facelift, the Brothers Grimm’s Snow White featured an evil queen who heartily devoured vital bodily organs and who got her comeuppance by being forced to dance in red-hot slippers until she fell down dead. Though Sanders’ picture isn’t quite so macabre, it is notable that the relatively austere …Huntsman, with its kingdom in turmoil offering gloomy parallels with riot strewn streets of contemporary ‘Broken Britain,’ fared far better than Singh’s whimsical Mirror Mirror. This gritty gloominess could well be the key to convincing audiences that these tales still have something to offer. Certainly, Chris Thor Hemsworth’s gruff, axe-swinging Huntsman offered more to tempt hesitant males into cinemas than Arnie Hammer’s doltish Prince, and Gemma Arterton’s assertion in a recent Entertainment Weekly interview, that Hansel… will be ‘very dark and bloodthirsty,’ with a ‘Tarantino feel,’ cannot have harmed the film’s chances with the male demographic.

 The success of films, like …Huntsman, could also have much to do with the emergence of tougher, aspirational female leads.  Martin believes the ‘Disneyfied’ versions of these tales did women no favours, explaining that ‘with sweet little birds flying around, with Snow white helping the dwarves do their housework, basically, she’s a little housewife. So any sort of energy in her as a heroine is gone.’ The Girl Power, however, is strong with teen-icon Kristen Stewart, and this is perhaps another reason why …Huntsman’s assertive, armoured championess has caused such a stir with movie-goers. ‘There’s no copyright to telling stories,’ Martin continues, ‘but you can rightly talk about what gets lost in some versions.’  These are films about women claiming back the ‘energy’ that years of ‘Disneyfied’ retellings have drained from them.  These are tales of peasant revolt, about the little guy sticking a finger up at wicked rulers. The key to the fairy tale renaissance could be that in these troubled times, the grown-ups have decided it’s time to reclaim these fables that have long been censored and sanitised by market forces. By returning them to their roots as folk-tales shared by adults, the potential for action, adventure and thrills can be restored, with a satisfying dose of sticking-it-to-The-Man that keeps everyone happy. Seemingly, just the right witches’ brew of revolutionary escapism, nostalgia and cross-gender appeal can keep the studios laying golden goose eggs for a while yet.

  A list of impending releases longer than Rapunzel’s tangled locks, including Guillermo del Toro’s mooted take on Beauty and the Beast and Tim Burton’s gestating Pinocchio project, should be evidence enough that the cherished, infinitely adaptable fairy tale movie template continues to represent a suitably ‘safe bet’ for the studios. These were tales told round the campfire, never set in stone, but mutating, adapting and enduring as a sign of the times, and as long as we want to return to these enchanted kingdoms, Hollywood will happily keep conjuring new ways to grant our wishes.

LIKE CRAZY

Love can be a moment’s madness. In Drake Doremus’ melancholy drama, idealistic English college student Anna (Chalet Girl’s Felicity Jones) foolishly overstays her US visa after falling hard for charming Californian carpenter Jacob (Fright Night’s Anton Yelchin). When they’re separated, with Anna banned from entering America, what follows is an agonising study of a relationship in freefall.

  Their initial courtship adeptly captures those intoxicating, butterflies-in-the-tummy moments of first love, all intimate close-ups of reticent half-smiles and hopeful glances. Yet, just as giddy, giggly flirtation gives way to heart-wrenching transatlantic yearning, months, then years parted by red tape sees their wide-eyed romantic innocence slowly disintegrate into awkward, frustrated uncertainty.

  There are brief, blissful vacation reunions, but through all the stop-starting, the young lovers discover it’s difficult to simply press pause on life. Throughout, Doremus’ astute mise en scene gradually widens the literal space between the couple, sat separately on public transport, or strolling yards apart following a lover’s tiff, reflecting the growing rift in their hearts.

  Time, too, is presented as fleeting, with one impressively edited visual sequence seeing the twosome’s rapturous ‘summer in bed’ pass by in a depressing matter of seconds.

  Jones and Yelchin deliver commandingly mature performances, authentically encapsulating the fatigue of their star-crossed union. When Jacob has Anna’s beloved writing chair shipped to London as a surprise, Jones’ muted, half-hearted enthusiasm is so perfectly measured, you can practically see the passion begin to dissipate. Similarly, Yelchin plays wounded very well, his forlorn, puppy dog eyes effectively communicating Jacob’s inner anguish.

  Reminiscent of Derek Cianfrance’s similarly morose Blue Valentine, it is a brutal, affecting watch, though Jacob’s refusal to simply move to London makes Anna’s infatuation difficult to swallow. Although the couple’s blind naïvete may occasionally make you feel like knocking their heads together, this is a sober, bittersweet picture for anyone who’s ever been heartbroken.