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Die Hard -or- Blood, Bombs and Boobs · Nov 21, 11:53 AM
Screenplay: Jeb Stuart. Joe D. Souza
Rated: R (Yeah!)
Rating: 3.5 feathers
I vividly remember the first time I saw this truly shining example of a superb action film, a film that would set the pace for an entire genre for years to come. I was probably about seven or eight years old when my parents sat my siblings and I down in front of the television for family home evening. We could tell immediately that this would be a real treat because my father carefully explained to us all the difference between movies and “real life.” Not to sound all “wonder years” and shit but it was one of my first big steps into adulthood. I recall practically running to Sunday school later that week and bragging to my buddies that I’d seen a movie that was Rated R! They drooled enviously as I described in serious detail everything that was revealed to me; the blood, the swearing, the violence, and most shocking of all…the boobs. What bliss.
Nearly fifteen years later I feel somewhat desensitized to the shock and awe of the “R” rating and all its glory. It’s amazing to me to see why I really enjoyed the film at such a young age (regardless of its adult themes). It’s amazing because without knowing it the film grabbed me by the collar of my ninja turtles t-shirt and didn’t let go until the rolling of the credits. I was thrown into the suspenseful action world where people are miraculously knocked out cold with one, single punch.
To start, the screenplay is a force to be reckoned with. Written by Jeb Stuart and Joe D. Souza, this script as tight as they get. Everything is wrapped up in cute little ticking packages. The beauty of it all is the audience has no idea when this ticking package will explode.
We first see our rebel without a shoe, John McLain (Bruce Willis) as his plane touches down at LAX. A fellow passenger mentions to John that later that night he should take off his socks and shoes and “make fists with his toes” to relieve stress.AS pointless as the dialogue may seem it plays a large role in the film to come.
John takes the strangers advice and makes fists with his bare feet but with no avail. He is impatientely waiting for his long distance wife to finish her speech for her company Christmas party so they can commence their arguing. She works in an enormously tall building called Nakitomy Plaza (which is, in reality, 20th Century Fox’s main office). Suddenly we cut to the shot of a large freight truck barreling toward the plaza. We assume it must be terrorists dude to the eerie bad guy music in the background. Lead by creepy British evil dude “Hans” the terrorists execute the security guard in the main lobby and dramatically pause before sealing the entrance. There is no turning back.
Meanwhile, twenty floors up, John wants desperately to save his failing marriage. He paces back and forth when suddenly, gunshots ring out. Luckily John is a New York cop and has enough brains to flee to higher ground. Unfortunately, he doesn’t have enough brains to take his shoes with him. The rest of the film seems like your run of the mill action thriller but what makes it so uniques is it’s ability to incorporate human themes and emotions into this hour and a half shootem up, blowem up bloodfest. You also get to see a slight glimpse of boos (I’m such a loser).
Later on, John shoots up a beat cop’s squad car (not surprisingly overplayed by “Carl Winslow” of Family Matters.) They soon develop a good LA cop/NY cop bond and exchange ideas throughout the conflict via walkie talkie. While inhaling twinkies, Winslow mentions that “there’s shattered glass everywhere out here.” John replies with, “Glass, Who gives a shit about glass?!” Ironically, John is tearing shards of shattered glass from his bare feet no more than fifteen minutes late. It’s the small nuances like this one that make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Oh yah, the senseless violence helps too. Did I mention that you get to see boobs?
But seriously, this is a story about two opposite worlds colliding, the world of words (inside the building) and the world of warfare (outside the building). The only thing keeping these two worlds from colliding is the radio contact between Winslow and John.
In an act of moronic desperation a sleazy, coke sniffing hostage guy attempts to try his luck and use his words to negotiate with the terrorists. “Sprekenze talk?” He snorts “You use a gun, I use a fountain pen.” Needless to say he doesn’t make a great negotiator.
This film simply has it all; blood, love, rhetoric, and boobs. It’s a colossal gumbo of post modern imagery and themes. Not to tmention the score being riddled with ironically eerie Christmas carols as Bruce Willisl shoots up bad guys, crawls through ventilation ducts, jumps from the top of an exlploding skyscraper, and just looks so Goddamn cool doing it. Don’t forget, Bruce Willis was heroically leaping from explosions in slow-mo before heroically leaping from explosions in slow mo was cool. He even finds time to throw out about half a dozen imaginatively vulgar one-liners.
In my opinion this classic belongs in everyone’s stocking this holiday season. It’s perfect for family home evening. But don’t take my word for: ask Santa today.
PS – “Yipee kai yay muthafucka!”
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