Detroit cop Jericho “Action” Jackson (Carl Weathers) has been having a rather
quiet two years. After a bit of police brutality towards the – rapist – son of a
very rich man, he was demoted from Lieutenant to Sergeant, lost the right to
wear a gun, and consequently landed himself a desk job. Jackson’s life is going
to become rather more interesting again in the next few days, because a series
of men working in the same worker’s union all happen to die rather explosive
deaths. Jackson’s colleagues don’t seem to bother much about this sort of thing.
The script doesn’t make clear if they actually believe a guy who had a grenade
shot into his chest and exploded died in an accident, though they will later
pretend a different guy getting shot into
his chest from a few feet
distance with a gun that didn’t belong to him committed suicide. At least,
nobody does much investigating or other nonsense. The audience does of course
already know there’s a group of supposedly sneaky and competent, but actually
loud and silly, assassins making the union rounds.
Fortunately, an old college buddy of Jackson, one Tony (Robert Davi in a
short but sweaty appearance), asks our hero for help because he’s convinced he’s
the next on the list of the killers; and he’s absolutely right. Tony can even
point Jackson to the man he is pretty sure to be responsible – rich asshole
Peter Dellaplane (Craig T. Nelson). Dellaplane just happens to be exactly the
same rich asshole whose son Jackson beat up (or mutilated, the dialogue’s a bit
vague here) and got into prison, and who then did his best to ruin Jackson’s
career. One might believe that’s a bit of an additional motivating factor, so it
won’t come as too much of a surprise that Jackson soon finds himself sniffing
around Dellaplane’s (evil) business, perhaps finding allies in Dellaplane’s wife
Patrice (Sharon Stone before she was famous) and his junkie singer mistress
Sydney Ash (Vanity when she was sort of famous). Explosions are soon too follow,
as are absurd attempts at framing Jackson for murder that of course cut it with
his brain dead colleagues.
Action Jackson is a rather likeable attempt to turn Carl Weathers
into a black American action hero, kinda like a Schwarzenegger who can act and
doesn’t look horrifying. In an interesting turn of events, the film doesn’t nod
in the direction of classic blaxploitation flicks at all, and focuses on late
80s style US action movie tropes, treating its hero’s blackness with casualness.
Given the comparative lack of other action vehicles starring Weathers, it can’t
have been terribly successful at the box office, though it’s a rather
entertaining film if you’re willing and able to at least ignore the typical
flaws of US action cinema of this point in time. So please don’t think about the
cartoonish incompetence of a movie police force that makes even the worst real
world one (and boy, they do get pretty terrible, don’t they?) look like a band
of geniuses and heroes; ignore the fact that the bad guy’s plan – he apparently
murders lots of people to control the union so he can then use its influence to
some time in the vague future become the power behind the throne of an as of now
imaginary president – makes not a lick of sense; and please, don’t even try to
find connections between anything in the film’s world and the real one.
Ideally, in an action movie of this style, these flaws shouldn’t just be
things to be tolerated. As a matter of fact, they are supposed to be enjoyed,
and boy, is
Action Jackson enjoyable. Craig T. Nelson is awesome as the
ultra-violent rich slime ball, his plan is pretty damn funny, his goons are
clearly supposed to be cool but are very desperately not, so they are ideally
positioned to be shouted at, be-one-linered and murdered by a hero who really
needs to get creative with his own violence because he has to survive much of
the film without a gun (he’s obviously taking the bit where he’s not allowed to
be armed seriously even once people start and try to murder him). Weathers is
very fun to watch as Jackson, giving the typical US macho hero some human
traits, even making him pretty likeable. It helps that the man’s dignity seems
undisturbed by even the cheesiest and most nonsensical one-liner (my personal
favourite is “Chill out!”, before he burns a guy to death), nor by the film’s
sudden bursts of what I surmise is humour. And if you’re interested in the baser
things, Stone and Vanity both have a bit of nudity in here; though we actually
see much more of shirtless Weathers, so there’s hopefully something for everyone
here.
The whole bag of lovable nonsense was directed by Craig R. Baxley. Baxley has
an extensive list of credits in stunt teams for film and TV, is credited just as
extensively with various second unit directing jobs, directed a few episodes of
The A-Team, and then – starting with the film at hand – made three well
liked – well, by people like me who enjoy this sort of thing – action movies
before he trotted off to become a dependable and solid TV director. His stunt
background certainly shows in the quality of the stunt work here, with every bit
of carnage and violence shot to full effect, Baxley clearly operating on the
directorial basis that the audience wants to get as good a look at possible at
what he has to offer here. In other words, there’s not boring action scene here.
Even better, Baxley does know how to stage an entertaining dialogue sequence
too, providing his actors with many an opportunity to chew the scenery or to
have fun with the general absurdity of things.
As a matter of fact, I think
Action Jackson is much better – and
definitely more entertainingly – directed than most of the more mainstream US
action movies of its era that for my tastes tend to be not terribly well paced –
the works of Harlin and McTiernan obviously excluded. I certainly prefer
Weathers to Schwarzenegger, too, so clearly, I judge this film “better than
Commando”.