Cliffhanger (1993) vs Speed (1994)
Cliffhanger and Speed are arguably the two true studio attempts to reimagine the Die Hard premise and put some proper heat ($$$) behind it. Cliffhanger is Die Hard on a mountain and Speed is Die Hard on a bus. On the pitch alone, Cliffhanger sounds a lot better. It also had Sylvester Stallone in the lead, where Speed had Keanu Reeves. Today those stars are near equals, with one eclipsing the other only slightly and only depending on who you ask. If you ask me, it’s Keanu Reeves. If you ask anyone older than me, it’s Sylvester Stallone. If you ask anyone younger, they’re likely to go “the guy from Always Be My Maybe and the guy who helps train Michael B. Jordan? Why are we talking about them?” But at the time, Rocky/Rambo on a mountain fighting bad guys seemed more interesting than Johnny Utah riding around on a bus. As far as directors go, Cliffhanger had Reny Harlin, who was known for big action movies, and who actually directed Die Hard 2 three years earlier, and Speed was in the hands of Jan de Bont, the cinematographer for the original Die Hard. In every measurable way, Cliffhanger seemed like it would be a slightly more formidable replica than Speed, but the thing about a Die Hard movie is even though it’s about one man, it’s also about that one man’s partnership with an unlikely accomplice. Cliffhanger had Michael Rooker, a fine second fiddle, but no match for Speed’s Sandra Bullock who shreds an electric guitar.
In Die Hard, McClain has Sgt. Powell played by Reginald VelJohnson, a cop who was taken off the force for shooting a kid. As a plot point, it’s more than grim and by the end when the journey he went on allows him to shoot again, it’s hard to root for in 2023. It should have been hard to root for in 1988, but people are idiots who lack perspective. And movie audiences are almost exclusively made up of people. However, McClain and Powell connect and provide solace for one another. There’s the scene where McClain tells Powell to tell his wife that he’s sorry. It’s the heart of the movie. It’s what turns Die Hard from a plot about stopping bad guys to a story about a man who has not supported his wife and his family has suffered for it.
In Cliffhanger, Michael Rooker is mostly mad at Stallone for trying to save his girlfriend and failing. It makes sense that Stallone would be upset about it and quit being a mountain ranger, but it makes little sense that Rooker is still mad at him and it makes even less sense that he gets over it through helping Stallone foil John Lithgow’s plot. Because ultimately what Stallone did at the beginning, which was try to save someone, is what he does throughout the movie. He never learns a lesson. Rooker just isn’t mad anymore because I guess they stopped the bad guy, which isn’t really the same as saving your girlfriend. If anything, it’s Rooker’s movie and he learns you shouldn’t get mad at people for trying. Which is less troubling than Powell’s arc, but more dumb, and with none of the emotional vulnerability between the leads.
In Speed, Annie takes no shit from anybody. She has no patience for Keanu’s Jack when he tries to get on the bus. Annie pretends to sit in gum to get away from Alan Ruck’s annoying tourist character. She stands up for the passengers on the bus, and of course, drives the hell out of the bus, launching it off an unfinished bridge at one point. She lifts Jack up when he thinks he’s been beat and he lifts her up when she feels guilty about admitting that she’s glad to be alive after the woman fell under the bus. They have human moments in outrageous circumstances. That’s what makes Die Hard so excellent. The small moments that remind us these are flawed and fragile people who despite being out of their element, are still compassionate.
When the starter pistol fired, Cliffhanger had the early lead, but Speed hit the gas and exploded, leaving Cliffhanger buried in an avalanche.
Victor: Speed races to Round 2
Polar (2019) vs Hobbs and Shaw (2019)
These two films have almost nothing in common except that neither would exist without John Wick. They want desperately to be Wick Offs. Hobbs and Shaw is another David Leitch film with bigger stakes than Atomic Blonde or Deadpool 2. There’s a super serum in Vanessa Kirby’s bloodstream that will eradicate the human race and also they’re building super soldiers. It’s got traditional heroes that are tasked with going up against an army of bad guys; a recipe for fight scenes. Polar is based on a graphic novel and directed by Swedish director Jonas Åkerlund. Its plot is almost identical to John Wick, retired hitman gets pulled back into action in a world made up of assassins. This is a case of style vs substance.
Glib banter has been a gift and a curse to every action movie since it was first introduced somewhere around Beverly Hills Cop. Initially, it provided some comic relief and made the movie more entertaining and was especially helpful when the movie took itself too seriously. Most action movies involve lots of human casualties and if that’s taken too seriously, it can be unfun. War movies are used to illustrate the brutality of war. Action movies are used to make adults feel like kids in the backyard. They should be adrenaline inducing but not so self-serious that it forces the viewer to consider the loss of human life. Action movies are not meant to be taken seriously. They’re the original comic book movies. Here are some heroes who are tasked with stopping some bad guys and they’ll do it slightly elevated. Hobbs and Shaw, the Fast and Furious, spin-off exemplifies that pitch perfect and also makes it terrible. One would imagine having Jason Statham as the co-lead, and Leitch as the director, the movie would have some impressive long camera shot hand-to-hand combat, which we do. But it’s smothered with giant CGI set pieces, a literal superhuman villain and too much banter. John Wick action is celebrated for everything it does on its own without the help of explosions, green screens, sci-fi plot mechanics, or super charged bravado. Everything from the direction of the fight scenes to actual plot development, like the business of contract killing, is analog. It’s about elevating the craft, not expanding the ingredients. John Wick will occasionally have glib lines, but they’re used sparingly. The characters in Hobbs and Shaw are so detached from anything that happens that it pulls the audience out, reminding them that no one is pushing themselves that hard. Whereas John Wick is always reminding you how hard everyone is pushing themselves. Hobbs and Shaw is trying to be John Wick with Die Hard banter and it feels very phony. Polar would have to be borderline unwatchable to lose this one.
And it is. Polar is not very good at all. I love Mads Mikkelsen, the actor playing the movie’s protagonist, and obviously a story about a hitman coming back to take out the other hitmen is a tested premise, but this movie is like if a Foley artist directed a bowl of fruit and a bag of pop rocks in a pornographic still life. Everything snaps and squishes and every time the movie picks up momentum, it comes to a freeze frame with paint or blood splatter. The plot is borderline incoherent, which is difficult to do when I know the plot going in. Mads’ character Duncan needs money, but he’s also not healthy and then there’s a woman he’s protecting and the big bad keeps moisturizing and killing killers who have retired. It also tries to be glib, but the style isn’t serious, nor is the world, so to have everyone oscillate between sincerity and deadpan sarcasm makes it impossible to hold on to anything with any kind of investment.
The one thing these movies do effectively is they show that creating a John Wick movie is not as simple as a hitman out for blood or action stars kicking butt. Hobbs and Shaw wins only because it has Vanessa Kirby who carries herself with the confidence of someone who you want to see absolutely wreck shit when the odds are stacked against her. Put her solo in a Try Hard or Wick Off and I’ll bet audiences turn out.