Out for Justice (1991)

Starring:  Steven Seagal, William Forsythe, 

Jerry Orbach, Gina Gershon        

Directed by: John Flynn

Written by: David Lee Henry

Duration: 1hr 31 mins

Rating: 4 out of 5

So here we are at the end of my look at Seagal’s debut tetralogy (of sorts).  Through Above the Law, Hard to Kill and Marked for Death many bones have been broken, whispered one-liners spoken and, er, Steven using his hand for bad guys to choke on.  So what does his last effort before he boarded a ship and went steller, Out for Justice, have to offer?

WELL, DO YOU ASSOCIATE THIS MAN
WITH THE PULITZER PRIZE FOR FICTION?

The movie starts with a literary quote, of all things.  It comes from Arthur Miller, a man for whom I have huge respect:  Death of a Salesman, A View from the Bridge, bedding Marilyn Monroe.  Miller was born in Brooklyn, where Out for Justice takes place, and the quote (“While to the stranger’s eyes one street was no different from another, we all knew where our ‘neighborhood’ somehow ended.  Beyond that, a person was…  a stranger”) promises a tale about remembering your roots, respecting boundaries, and sticking up for your own.

WHO NEEDS SUB-PLOTS WHEN YOU'VE GOT DOG BISCUITS?

So the scene is set for this to be quite different to Seagal’s previous films…  except that it isn't really at all.  Steven is still a cop, Steven’s loved one still gets hurt/threatened/killed, Steven still takes brutal revenge.  However, now I’ve embraced the Early Seagal Movie Template, this doesn't grate.  And this one definitely eclipses the three that came before.  Out for Justice delivers enough fist fights, one-liners and shoot-outs to hold its head up as an action romp, but excels within its own small league for two reasons: its brevity and its adversary.

  

Whereas the three previous movies required as long as an hour to get to the point that every viewer is waiting for – where Mr. Seagal unleashes foots, fists and Colt M1911 rounds upon hoards of bleeding heavies – Out for Justice gets to the vengeance part of the story within TEN MINUTES.  We meet Seagal’s Gino and his partner Bobby, see them take down a pimp-type who’s roughing up some hoes, observe how well respected Gino is in the ‘hood by mobsters and hoodlums alike, and then BANG – Bobby is mowed down in a hail of bullets.  Now that’s what I call well-trimmed scripting; it even substitutes the notion of a sub-plot for an on-going strand where Gino adopts a stray dog, showing his – aw, shucks! – caring side.

GREASY HAIR, 'TASCHE, SNARL...
YEP, WE HAVE OURSELVES A BAD GUY

The rest of the movie keeps Gino and his target away from each other as the former searches for his prey in dive bars (naturally) and strip clubs (double naturally) and the latter avoids capture by engaging in his favourite pastimes of killing people on a whim, smoking crack and teasing a guy in a wheelchair.

The man Gino spends over an hour tearing up the city looking for is Richie, who is played with sleazy menace by William Forsythe.  Totally unhinged and amoral, Richie is a real piece of work who explodes into wild rages totally unprompted; you truly expect him to pull out his revolver and pop someone at any given moment – and he often does, as an irate female motorist finds out to her peril.

ACTUALLY,

'BAD'

DOESN'T

QUITE

CUT

IT...

Regrettably, Forsythe is rather too tubby and weasely to be much of a physical threat to Seagal in their final showdown, but this doesn't make it any less satisfying when Gino beats seven shades of shit out of him.

"I'M GONNA KEEP COMING BACK UNTIL
SOMEONE REMEMBERS SEEING RICHIE!"

This flick is a lot more involving than its predecessors.  Gino is scouring the streets he's lived on his whole life for a man he grew up with who has now killed his best friend, creating both a personal and professional conflict; it's a journey that generates much complexity and no little suspense.  Along the way there is the best bar scene since Eddie Murphy in 48 Hrs. ("Anyone seen Richie?") and some unexpected pathos as Gino’s split loyalties result in him having to arrest Richie’s Dad (played with dignity by Dominic Chianese, The Soprano’s Uncle Junior), the man who is his own father figure.

So a fitting end to an ultimately worthwhile look at a member of the action fraternity whose star never rose as high as maybe it should have.  He’s derided by many today – perhaps fairly based on his 21^st century output – but digging out his first four films is a reminder that Steven Frederic Seagal was formally a filmic fighting force not to be fucked with.  ****

See also:

Above the law (1988)

Hard to Kill (1990)

Marked for Death (1990)