JCVD

JCVD (2008) is the brainchild of Mabrouk El Mechri, virtually unknown writer and director, and the legendary action/martial arts star tuned Hollywood joke Jean-Claude Van Damme. The film is a profoundly dark action comedy, drawing on Van Damme's semi-autobiographical torment as a glorified has-been relegated to direct-to-DVD schlockfests and playing third fiddle to Chuck Norris and Steven Seagal as 'that other cheesy karate movie guy.' The film is helped along by El Mechri's brazen use of extended tracking shots, and cinematographer Pierre-Yves Bastard's talent at pulling them off, not to mention emotional acting chops no one ever knew Van Damme had. If Van Damme is lucky, this film might just do for him what Sin City (2005) and The Wrestler (2008) have done for Mickey Rourke.

In JCVD, Jeane-Claude Van Damme has returned home to the Belgian countryside to start a new life after losing his daugter in a a bitter custody battle. Following on the heels of this defeat comes yet another: Van Damme has lost his latest acting gig to rival Steven Seagal. Tired, defeated, and penniless, Van Damme is forced to beg an advance on his next film. He stops in a small Belgian town to receive the wired money, and that's when all hell breaks loose. Van Damme unwittingly walks in on a bank heist in progress. The robbers subdue Van Damme and begin the process of setting him up to take the fall. Now Van Damme must try to keep all the hostages alive while dealing with the dangerously unstable bank robbers and the unfortunate consequences of his own fame.

JCVD reflects heavy influence from Sidney Lumet's Dog Day Afternoon (1975), the classic bank heist gone terribly wrong. The characterizations of two of the bank robbers, played by Karim Belkhadra and Zinedine Soualem, even bear remarkable resemblance to Dog Day's doomed lovers Sonny and Sal (Al Pacino and John Cazale). The imitations are admirable, considering the talented sources. The music used for JCVD is excellent, mixing ominously pounding drums with sweet Curtis Mayfield soul and quirky folksy tunes (including a nice cover of David Bowie's "Modern Love"). The director and scriptwriters take a huge gamble in the middle of the film, suddenly taking the movie beyond the confines of a well-made black comedy, and lifting it straight into the meta-art stratosphere with a ballsy six minute soliloquy delivered straight from Van Damme to you at home. It's weird, no doubt, but it's also brutally honest. An explanation. An apology, if you will.

It's hard to really encapsulate this film. It's part parody, part homage, and part flat-out kickass goodness. Fans of Van Damme will be vindicated and others will be pleasantly surprised.

Storyline & plot: 7/10
Cinematography & effects: 9/10
Music & mood: 8/10
Performances: 8/10

The Reverend says: 8/10