Double Impact (1991)

If you’re anything like me — and I’m guessing you probably aren’t — you probably thought that The Parent Trap would have been a might better with Bolo Yeung as a Triad hitman who mercilessly shotgunned Hayley Mills’ parents to death in the film’s opening.

Double Impact gets you halfway there, albeit with double the Jean-Claude Van Dammes. Let’s get together, yeah yeah yeah!

Here, JCVD takes on the dual roles of Chad and Alex, somewhat different twins separated at birth and driven together by their love of smoking-hot blondes and, I guess, solving the murder of their parents while collecting the apparent royalties from the Hong Kong-mainland tunnel their dad completed before his death. But mostly smoking-hot blondes.

Between selling smuggled Mercedes on the high seas to busting up a clandestine Hong Kong drug operation, the brothers seem to be getting along until one of them gets way too drunk and imagines in his mind — and dramatized onscreen, thankfully — the other brother sexually satisfying a smoking-hot blonde, leading to some classic Van Damme-on-Van Damme action.

Still, after seeing a few Triads storm the beach the next morning, they decide to put their mutual dislike of each other aside and take on the nameless Chinese sentries, all to get to the snooty British businessman that, as snooty British businessmen are wont to do, put the hit on his parents for reason I still haven’t grasped.

With many instances of Bolo Yeung’s burly stockiness lurking about — and even a little bit of Cory Everson’s muscular thigh-crunching for equal opportunity — the screenplay, written by Van Damme and director Sheldon Lettich (Lionheart), is a highly nonsensical but ultimately fun kick to both of the gonads, preferably while in the patented Van Damme splits position.

For years, Van Damme has teased a sequel pitting Chad and Alex against the “South Central mob,” if such a thing exists, but those plans have yet to see the light of day. I guess those Tostitos commercials are the closest we’re ever going to come, which I’m okay with. —Louis Fowler

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Reading Material: Short Ends 7/8/19

In a summer that has seen several sequels tank, at least one doesn’t disappoint: Make My Day: Movie Culture in the Age of Reagan, preeminent film critic J. Hoberman’s trilogy-capper. As An Army of Phantoms and The Dream Life considered American cinema in the Cold War and the 1960s, respectively, Make My Day looks to the late 1970s and the whole of the 1980s; as in those works, also from The New Press, American cinema is also considered through the lens of the era’s politics, and how one informed or reflected the other. With Ronald Reagan as movie star-cum-POTUS, Hoberman certainly has a wealth of material to parse, most notably in the “warnography” of Rambo: First Blood Part II, Top Gun, Iron Eagle and, to a lesser degree, WarGames. It’s not all jets and jocks, either, with everything from the narrative quilt of Nashville to the science-fried comedy of Ghostbusters and basically everything Steven Spielberg Midas-touched. The tour is fascinating, politically charged (yet fact-based) and even thrilling. An overuse of the prefix “crypto-” and a couple of names getting botched (as Jon Voigt, Gary Marshall and Christian Glover) do nothing to diminish its excellence.

Serious question: Does Roberto Curti ever sleep? The Italian film historian has been averaging two research-heavy books a year, with his latest being Italian Gothic Horror Films, 1980-1989. Those already familiar with Curti will know this is the third in the IGHF series, which began in 2015 (1957-1969) and continued in 2017 (1970-1979), all published by McFarland & Company. The VHS-weaned generation may have been waiting on this one all along, given that the video-store era coincided with the gore-heavy auteurist period of Dario Argento, Lucio Fulci, Lamberto Bava and others, who made some of their best work in this fertile period. Again going chronologically, Curti examines each notable title, with critical and historical appreciations that can run for multiple pages, if merited (the above men among those). If there’s a fly in this soup, it’s that Curti refers to films primarily by their Italian titles, which can get tricky if you’re not paying attention, assuming you’re also not bilingual. Molto bene!

Portable Press’ Strange Hollywood is not unlike an entry in the assumedly immortal Uncle John’s Bathroom Reader series: a chunky little book to absorb a page or two at a time, most likely during dumps, with contents only slightly less temporary. Thus, lists make up much of the 400-plus pages, from movie stars’ final roles and original titles of hit pictures to fun facts about The Muppets and memorable quips from TV’s Hollywood Squares. Occasionally, there’s even an anecdote worth your time, such as why Tommy Lee Jones couldn’t stand working with Jim Carrey on Batman Forever, resulting in the former telling the latter, “I cannot sanction your buffoonery.” All in all, the book is a novelty that might work as a stocking stuffer. —Rod Lott

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Heroes Shed No Tears (1986)

In this life, there are many things that heroes shed but, apparently, tears are not one of them. At least that is the thesis statement behind John Woo’s 1986 testes-dropper, Heroes Shed No Tears, starring Eddy Ko (PTU) as the non-crying hero.

Actually, I feel like I should walk that back a few steps: Ko, as Chinese mercenary Chan, does cry a time or two but, to be fair, it is because for a few moments he believes the evil Thai colonel has set his small child on fire. I think that, if you were not to cry at something like that, you’re probably more of a sociopath than an actual hero, but I guess that’s just me.

Anyway, Chan is the leader of a group of Chinese commandos out to capture Gen. Samton, who’s running the drug trade in the Golden Triangle. Even though the capture is primarily a success, crossing the mountain range and getting to their contact into Vietnam is quite the bitch, especially with Chan’s kid and his aunt, a French reporter and a couple of soldiers with a hilarious gambling problem in tow.

With one violently cool set piece after another — how the evil Thai colonel loses his eye is worth the price of admission unless, you know, you’re an evil Thai colonel — this flick isn’t a predictor of future Woo flicks like The Killer or Hard Boiled, but instead absolute bloody proof that his ballistic ballets had been a staple of Hong Kong cinema for a while; it just took the rest of us world-cinema jerks to catch up to him.

Arguably one of the best action films in a decade that had nothing but, Heroes Shed No Tears is the overseas grindhouse version of the Rambo movies, with plenty of fighting for the guys, romance for the gals, and hardcore scenes of gambling addiction for the drunk uncles in the audience. —Louis Fowler

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The Tough Ones (1976)

Clint Eastwood’s iconic character of Dirty Harry inspired many a trigger-happy cop who plays by his own rules, but in Italy, he invented practically a whole new genre, with a prime shaker in their police film movement being Filthy Leo Tanzi (Maurizio Merli, Magnum Cop); in The Tough Ones, he delivers homily after homily about how the criminals rule the streets, all the while chasing down a sadistic hunchback (Tomas Milian, Don’t Torture a Duckling) who craps bullets. Literally.

Punching, kicking and most definitely shooting every punk and purse snatcher from here to the Coliseum, Roman detective Tanzi is an unlikable brute in a surprisingly stylish sports coat, the type of guy who’s got no problem browbeating his psychiatrist girlfriend, loudly, in a restaurant. As he works his way through the pristine Italian underworld, it keeps leading him back to the utterly disturbing villain who totes a smile and a machine gun like a Punisher baddie, probably from the Garth Ennis era.

Even when Tanzi’s boss demotes him to the permits department, he still finds the time to help track down a gang of rapists, preferably by slamming their heads right through a pinball machine. Much like the aforementioned Harry, to see an antihero cop take matters into his own fist, especially in the sleaze and grime of the sports car-driving, marinara-covered underbelly, it remains a cool enough ride of coveted two-fisted violence some 40 or so years later.

Also known as Rome Armed to the Teeth, Brutal Justice and Assault with a Deadly Weapon (from Sybil Danning’s Adventure Video line, which I remember fondly), famed director Umberto Lenzi directs with all the subtly of a hunchback spraying the crowd with gunfire, laughing manically as the spaghetti-sauce splashes across the screen, all to a funky Franco Micalizzi score, which, remarkably, is included here on compact disc in the gorgeous Grindhouse Releasing package.

An entertainingly blood-spewing example of the legendary poliziotteschi film series of the 70s, The Tough Ones may not be as trashily seminal as Lenzi’s Eaten Alive!, Cannibal Ferox or even Nightmare City, it is still nominally far dirtier than any American cop flick from the same era. So go ahead, make his … well, I’m sure you know the rest. —Louis Fowler

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Startup.com (2001)

On one internet company’s rapid rise and speedier fall, the documentary Startup.com would be more fun if its subjects didn’t come off as such egotistical assholes.

Friends since their high school days, Tom Herman and Kaleil Isaza Tuzman decide to chase fortune by staking their claim in the lawlessness of the World Wide Web with a site called govWorks.com, a public-to-government facilitator — in other words, you could pay your parking tickets online. As many did in the dot-com boom, Herman and Tuzman start believing this idea will reap millions upon millions.

We watch their heads balloon as their head count balloons from under a dozen employees to more than 200, thanks to venture capital, all before even having a legitimate product. When their site finally goes live, mishaps not only follow, but march in time; their Gordon Gekko-level greed so clouds their judgment, they fail to recognize their massive shortcomings, not the least of which is not having a fucking clue what they’re doing. It’s rather amazing they allowed co-directors Chris Hegedus (The War Room) and Jehane Noujaim (Control Room) to let cameras capture their abhorrent, self-fellating behavior.

After witnessing this pair of douchey hotheads do douchey hothead things — like Tuzman irreparably damaging their friendship by firing Herman via form letter — their downfall is the icing on Startup.com’s cake. To be honest, as engaging as the film is, I wanted to see even more failure, as we are told karma dictates. Real life eventually (read: in 2017) gave us what the movie could not, with Tuzman found guilty in federal court for schemes of widespread financial fraud. —Rod Lott

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