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"Duke". The All-American Icon. The man, who according to movie history, practically single-handedly tamed the Wild West and won the second World War, armed with a six shooter and a wild right hook. Duke was big in stature, and had the chiseled, square jaws befitting a classic hero. The avatar of everything we're lead to believe about manhood. Duke performed in a world completely devoid of grey areas. Black and White only. The bad guys either wore black hats or spoke and English-accent that stood for "German". The good guys were... well Duke himself. Everybody else was sheep. And thus God was pleased.
But Man had a different idea. Man created a new action hero in his own image. His name was Humphrey Bogart.
Bogie was short, scarred and spoke with a lisp. He didn't look like a classic hero, in fact in the early part of his career he was often cast as the bad guy. Murderers and gangster roles. Bogie lived in a world of grey, and knew what it took to survive. And that's what what made him so belivable to audiences. He was a survivor first, and quite often he was reluctant to demonstrate any heroics. He would only act when he was forced to betray a deep underlying code of honor.
So here we have the two symbols of of the modern action hero. The Duke's iconic approach has been successfully co-opted by other actors such as Arnold Schwarzenegger (Commando, Predator) , Sylvester Stallone (Rambo, Rocky) and Stephen Segal (Hard to Kill, Above the Law, and a bunch of other crappy movies with three word titles). Bogie's role as the conflicted, reluctant hero has been appropriated by Bruce Willis (Die Hard), Mel Gibson (The Road Warrior, Lethal Weapon) and Brad Pitt (Legends of the Fall). The purpose of this blog is to discuss three movies in my DVD library that demonstrate the evolution of the action hero from the old fashioned, All-American icon, to the more interesting and believable reluctant hero.
Big Trouble In Little China, 1986. Director, John Carpenter.
This DVD contains one of the best audio commentaries in movie history. Director John Carpenter and lead actor Kurt Russell's discussion is amiable and friendly, more a casual chat between two old-dog Hollywood insiders that not only is fun to listen to, but chock full of information for film fans. For example, Russell modeled his character, Jack Burton, after the Duke himself. The speech pattern, over-confident swagger and traditional, All-American mind-set.
But the movie undercuts all of this with a simple staggering fact. Jack Burton's excess of ego and limited smarts blinds him to the fact that he's not the "hero". The true hero of the movie is his pal Wang Chi, while Jack is an unwitting second banana. The movie is a satire of the jingoistic, over-wrought action blockbusters that plagued us during the 1980's. Jack honestly thinks he's Rambo, but really he's Elmer Fudd. Not once, during the whole movie does he clue in.
Pure genius.
This movie should be considered the first step in the evolution of the modern action hero because here is where we saw all the faults with the classic hero paradigm. In the classic hero paradigm, the image is valued more than the true reality. If you dig just a little bit behind the image, you quickly see that there is nothing real behind enough to support it. Sure, John Wayne played a great soldier, but did you know he never enlisted? He didn't outright dodge the draft, but he allowed himself to hide behind his celebrity status to avoid serving during WWII. Hell, even Bogie enlisted (he was a Navy man). The Duke was just an Iowa-boy, whose real first name was "Marion".
There is a scene in Big Trouble that encapsulates this whole concept of image over substance. In the moments immediately prior the final, climactic, battle of the movie. Jack Burton stands on the ready line with a whole army of good guys, facing the enemy hordes. The good guys shout their war cry, and Jack, caught up in the extacy of the approaching battle fires his machine gun in the air. The bullets from the machine gun tears apart chucks of of brick from an overhead arch. The bricks strike Jack in the head, knocking him out stone cold. Thus while the rest of his buddies battle, Jack spends most of the final battle flat on his back.
Again, pure genius.
The Bourne Identity, 2002. Director, Doug Liman.
The Bourne Identity is all about duality. Everything you think you know about the movie is different from the actuality. It's an action movie, but is has more intelligence than most of the drama's made during the same year. It's a cold war era thriller, but something about the movie makes it resonate with post-911 political intrigue.
This duality is expressed by the character of Jason Bourne. The brain-washing gives Bourne the abilities of the classic mythical hero. When faced with danger, Bourne thinks fast, acts fast, is superhumanly strong and undeniably capable. But anytime the character is faced with emotion, he's lost, indecisive and weak.
So here, in one character, we have elements of the two hero archetypes. We have a man programmed to be super-human, just like John Wayne, but his amnesia, his lack of identity, actually makes him weak and conflicted and human, just like Bogie. If you think about it, it's quite easy to understand why the franchise is so popular. With Bourne, we get a two-fer, thus pleasing both God and Man.
Children of Men, 2006. Director, Alfonso Cuarón.
Theo Faron, the character played by Clive Owen is the new breed of action hero, perfect for the post-911 world. Theo is us, the everyman. He is weak, he is compromised, and he is quite happy to look the other way while the world slowly turns to shit. This guy is stripped bare, he is the antithesis of any hero we've ever seen in the movies. He's not proactive, the guy doesn't have superpowers or wicked fighting skills, and in seeming disregard to the most basic action movie trope, the guy never picks up a gun. Not once does he ever touch a gun during the whole movie. To further demonstrate his symbolic emasculation there is a long sequence where he has to resort to wearing flip flops for footwear. I mean, flip-flops, man. Even Jack Burton had some cool-ass cowboy boots.
External circumstances force Theo to make the transition from sheep to reluctant hero. And the funny thing is, that the moment he decides to be proactive, these same circumstances conspire to make things way more difficult for him than necessary.
Take for instance the scene where he, Kee and Miram make their escape from the farm. The car he chooses to leave in cannot start by the ignition alone. It has to be rolled up to speed and then jump started. Thus you get one of the most riveting, suspenseful chase scenes ever recorded where Theo has to push a car loaded with two women up and down a mud path while being chased by a half-dozen armed terrorists. He pushes, the car rolls and he gains a bit of lead from the bad guys, but he hits a mud patch, and the car slows, too slow for the engine to turn over. So he jumps out an begins to push. Miriam jumps in the front seat and turns the key, accidentally hitting the brakes at the same time, further slowing the car and still the engine won't turn. Theo yells at her to release the brakes, the car starts to roll faster, but the terrorists have almost caught up. Luckily they hit a steep grade and the car rolls even faster, but Theo, is so exhausted he can hardly catch up. And on it goes.
Children of Men is not only a great post-911 thriller, it's also a revitalization of the sci-fi genre. It forgoes the current interpretation of sci-fi (laser guns and space jump suits) and presents us with a more respectful approach to the genre, rooted in tradition of John Whydam. This depiction of the future feels real, because it's a plausible extrapolation of current conditions.
The heroics demonstrated by Theo, particularly at the end of the film feels equally real. An ordinary man placed in an extraordinary situation. He has the same chances of success or failure that anyone of us would have in that same situation. He may not look like a hero, and most times he hardly acts like a hero... but despite all his weakness, he approaches a point where he has to make a choice. It's at that point where he, and we by extension, can fleetingly approach our truest and noblest potential. Sometimes, my friends, that is all it takes to become a hero.
