Starring: Steven Seagal, Kelly LeBrock,
William Sadler, Frederick Coffin
Directed by: Bruce Malmuth
Written by: Steven McKay
Duration: 1hr 36mins
Rating: 3.5 out of 5
In part two of my look at key thespian of 20th century action cinema Steven Seagal I’m focusing on Hard to Kill, a title that on paper creates unreachable comparisons to Die Hard, released eighteen months earlier. In practice, Seagal’s Mason Storm does have a difficultly perishing on par with John McClane, but the movie gives us enough barmy humour and bone-breaking action to stand out as an enjoyable experience of its own.
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| NIFTILY DONE |
We open in 1983 at a classic action movie location: the deserted dockyard at night. Ominous synth music plays on the soundtrack as a figure creeps out of the shadows, revealed as Seagal at exactly the moment his credit appears on screen – nice touch. As in Above the Law he’s a cop, here doing surveillance on a dodgy deal between two groups of be-suited gentlemen.
Sleazy senator Vernon Trent (William Sadler) openly admits to planning a hit, giving Storm the sound bite he needs. Job done, he heads home, but not before stopping off at his local liquor store to pick up some champagne with which to celebrate cracking the case.
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THOSE MARATHON RUNNING PLANS
WILL HAVE TO BE PUT ON HOLD |
But he’s soon cracking something else – skulls! A gang of robbers choose the wrong 7/11 to hold up, and soon find themselves in a bleeding heap on the floor, including one snapped ankle (so that’s our first mark on the broken bones chart). All throughout this evening there have been references to it being the night of the Academy Awards ceremony, and when his colleagues turn up to haul away the perps, one quips, “Looks like you won the Oscar tonight, Storm!” It’s hard to know whether this is meant as an ironic comment on Seagal’s acting ability; I’m not sure how into self-deprecation our Steve is. Regardless, the Oscar stuff is a random and completely irrelevant addition – and off the wall details like that are always welcome in brainless action flicks, as far as I’m concerned.
So finally Storm pulls up at home, eager to round off a perfect evening of solid detective work and spontaneous violence with a good old romp in the sack. His pouting, negligée-wearing wife greets him and upstairs they go, but first our hero checks on his adolescent son, prompting an unexpectedly long scene of tucking in and saying prayers. So this guy’s a model father, too, as well as devoted husband, fine law enforcement officer and aikido badass. Hmm, I think I’ve just answered that self-deprecation question.
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| SADLY THAT'S THE LAST PONYTAIL SHE'LL EVER TUG ON |
This harmony can’t last for long, of course. One minute Mrs. Storm is telling her husband she loves him and tenderly pulling on his ponytail (no joke), the next three shotgun wielding burglars are in the marital bedroom blasting the shit out of them both. She’s pretty easy to kill, but Steven being Steven takes three or four blasts to the chests and is still able to land a few blows and even break one assailant’s wrist (that’s mark two). Mason Jr. escapes out the window, and the bad guys leave pops for dead. “Get the tape,” the leader growls, so obviously someone really wants that dockside recording.
Cut to the hospital, and Storm is pronounced D.O.A (cop dialogue: “Most unstoppable son of a bitch I ever knew.” “Yeah? Well, he got stopped tonight.”). So much for hard to… wait a sec, they’ve got a pulse! Mason’s only gone and ‘done a Jesus’. In fact, the effect is exemplified when we cut to seven years down the line and find him lying in his hospital bed sporting a beard and long hair very reminiscent of our Lord and Saviour. In Seagal we trust.
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"WHAT D'YOU FANCY AFTER WE WRAP? CHINESE?"
"HMMM... HOW ABOUT THAI?" |
Yes, it’s now 1990 and Mason Storm is waking up after a lengthy coma. During this time he’s been lucky enough to be looked after by Kelly LeBrock’s comely nurse. Now, LeBrock and Seagal were married at the time of shooting, and the movie isn’t exactly shy about this fact. Within five minutes, she’s referred to him as her ‘cutest patient’, alluded to the generous size of his genitals and, in one spit-take inducing moment, coos to his still prone form, “Would you like a little pussy?” before bringing a tiny kitten into the frame.
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| ... I GUESS THE ANSWER WAS 'YES' |
Storm’s barely had a chance to ask who the President is and check how his stocks are doing when a hit man rudely alters his physiotherapy routine by chasing him and LeBrock around the ward with a gun. Patient and nurse escape, and safely hide away at her convenient country hideaway.
Cue a Mason-getting-back-in-shape montage, cross cut with memories of the life that was shattred seven years ago. As well as weight-lifting and running up an actual mountain, his regime includes doing some nifty self-acupuncture and hitting a tree repeatedly with a stick, which I can respect. Then Nurse Kelly interrupts Steve’s bench-pressing by coaxing him into sex by a fireplace that’s in the same room as the gym. Well, why go to the trouble of lighting two separate sets when you can simply combine them as one?
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| CINEMATOGRAPHERS APPLAUD |
All in all, a bit too much time is spent on Storm’s rehabilitation when what we really want to see is his retribution. But when it comes, it’s good, delivering the violence and one-liners that we turned up for in the first place. Along the way, Seagal raises his bone-breaking tally to a respectable seven, gets hold of his signature Colt M1911 pistol, and says, "That’s for my wife – fuck you and die," after ramming a broken pool cue into a henchman’s neck.
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"HOW DOES IT FEEL TO KNOW
YOU'RE ABOUT TO DIE?" |
Top of the food chain in Storm’s revenge rampage is Sadler’s oily Senator, and the best line is saved for him. Throughout the movie, Sadler’s catchphrase has been: ‘...and you can take that to the bank.’ When Storm finally realises that the bent politician was behind that fateful night in '83, he utters the following: "I’m going to take you to the bank, Senator. The blood bank!” Sublime. ***1/2
