story time with dolph lundgren!
After driving around for a bit, Dolph decides to go for a meeting with the ‘Chief’ in the most disgusting looking cafe in America, and I tap my thumb impatiently waiting for Plot.
Oh, here it is! Say hi to everyone, Plot!
As Dolph and his boss sit and glare at each other, Plot does a fine job of describing how Dolph is about to give deposition in court, during which he will tell tales on all of his bad-cop buddies for all of the bad-cop things they did.
‘Chief’ offers a bribe to Dolph, along with a thinly veiled threat that he should play ball and try not to behave like Dolph Lundgren, which is lazy as fuck not to mention jarringly incongruous. But I am forced to admit that Plot’s contribution to the film, whilst pathetic, is at least better than watching these two sad wankers drive around all day.
Seeing as the movie has decided to do something, we are given lots of suspenseful music comprised of polyphonic ringtones from 1998, and I start to get agitated.
These ‘detectives’ (Dolph’s a sergeant, by the way), who are still just driving around aimlessly, respond to yet another dispatch call. The perp this time is considerate enough to keep a prostitute at knife point in the street until they arrive, which is thoughtful of Plot.
As they approach the scene, the perp, much like the fat guy from the bar, keeps on breaking the law in full view of the police, and it seems that criminals as well as the police themselves don’t understand the subtle nuances of Cops and Robbers.
The prostitute waddles away slowly and escapes, as Dolph chases down the perp. Exciting! But what followed caused me to, yet again, pause the film and rub my eyes in an attempt to wipe away the retardity that the movie sprayed in my face.
You see, the whole dispatch call (that literally ANY OTHER COP COULD HAVE ATTENDED) was just a ruse so that Dolph would find a piece of paper in his pocket while searching him, and that the perp and the prostitute were hired for this specific purpose.
I cannot begin to explain the multitude of ways this makes absolutely no sense whatsoever.
Plot, you are a fucking imbecile. Go and stand in the hallway.
Dolph then lets the guy go (without asking him anything), and takes a look at the note. It reads…
Why in God’s name was this necessary? Couldn’t the Chief have handed Dolph that note himself? Or just said it to him? Why not send a letter to his house? Or text him?
And what the SHIT was it about this scenario that demonstrated that he isn’t untouchable?!
This stupid encounter, and it’s hemorrhaging logic, would have made more sense if the perp was an escaped zoo animal, and it tried to eat Dolph Lundgren at precisely the same time an airplane painted the words ‘Don’t fuck with us, chomp chomp!’ in the sky. At least then there would’ve been some meaning behind why he looks so concerned, as Dolph now appears to be suspicious of inanimate objects.
Once back in the car, I notice for the first time Ross’ police-regulation ear bangles, and my despair for everything sinks even further.
Thankfully, the films cheers us up with a visit to the graveyard, where Dolph’s proper partner utters the tried and tested cliché,
“He was a hell of a cop.”
Nope. I have no idea who you are talking about, and no I don’t care.
Meanwhile, Cyprus Hill 2.0 have disguised themselves as cops and are wandering freely around the police station looking for Dolph Lundgren. None of the dozens of other policemen notice these people apart from Ross, who has never visited this police station before yet somehow still finds them suspicious.
Plot, wake up!
Everyone leaves the police station, but not before Cypress Hill place what looks like an e-cig on the tire of Dolph’s car. This is of course, stupid. Is it a tracking device? If it is then why bother when you are already following him? Well, whatever the fuck it is it certainly isn’t stealthy, as the e-cig audibly beeps and flashes different colours.
Except the e-cig turns out to be not to be a tracking device (!), but a tiny explosive (?) that bursts Dolph’s tire. This doesn’t cause him to crash though. No, he just pulls over allowing these ‘assassins’ to have a long and drawn out conversation in the middle of the street, full of threatening innuendo in which nothing happens.
A completely different bunch of bad guys arrive instead, who then taze Dolph, bundle him in to a van, and drive away to a secluded location to kill him. They almost succeed too, as Dolph is dramatically shot in the stomach. Oh no! But Ross turns up just in the nick of time, and action happens.
During this scene I can’t help but notice how no one present has ever had any proper weapons training outside of watching the first ten minutes of any of Dolph Dundgren’s other movies.
Ross hip-fires an assault rifle, Dolph duel wields pistols, and a bad guy shoots out of the window of a van with an AK-47…whilst driving the van.
With the would-be assassins now dead, Dolph finally remembers his kidneys are 50 feet away, and begins hobbling slightly. Eventually he faints, and we have yet more black and white montage footage. Except this time it’s of events that literally just took place.
Ross doesn’t take him to the hospital however, because of reasons, instead taking him to his partners house, which as secret hideouts go, is shit.
Fortunately, his partners wife is dressed as a nurse (whilst in her own house) and we are reassuringly informed that the gaping hole in his sternum is “just a nick.”
Also, Dolph Lundgren has tiny nipples.
Once Dolph has completely recovered (ten minutes later), we are told that Internal Affairs and the DEA “didn’t want to know” about all the crooked cops running around everywhere, which yet again makes me wonder if job performance reviews exist in Lundgren-Land.
The fugitives decide to drive to the Assistant Attorney General’s house, because…why not? You have to drive somewhere I suppose, and the Assistant Attorney General has an Xbox.
Eventually even more stupid action happens, as the good guys try to kill the bad guys and the bad guys try to kill the good guys. It’s like that snake that’s constantly throwing up it’s own tail, except the snake is a movie studio fighting bankruptcy, and Dolph Lundgren is the vomit.
Plot, no longer caring, causes me to break yet another orbital bone with my palm. How? Well, because the bad guys, super criminals as they are, attempt to shoot Dolph Lundgren from inside a car…being raised in the air by a forklift. This doesn’t end well for these dribbling idiots as you might expect, given how moronic an idea it was in the first place.
Meanwhile, Dolph’s partner is back at the Assistant Attorney General’s house and is doing research bullshit on a laptop in 2003, in a house that I’m absolutely certain has no WiFi. Eventually he decides to look up some police reports, which again, makes fuck all sense. But this is the world before Windows Firewall was a thing, so maybe it really was this easy to hack in to police department computer systems.
During this steaming heap of laptop stupidity we can see his kids in the background who have taken the opportunity to start work on the screenplay for Direct Action 2!
So Dolph, for some reason, goes back to the bar that was being extorted earlier, and we learn that the owners under-age niece is in fact the prostitute from the beginning of the movie, and is now an important device for Plot. However, Dolph still doesn’t want to have sex with her which still is nowhere near enough to convince me that he isn’t a dangerous lunatic.
More bullshit happens with some guys from the CIA who are now in the movie, also for some reason, and I don’t care. Partner-cop’s children are kidnapped and things occur, and I still don’t care. Eventually everyone meets up at a disused factory to kill each other and…
Do you know what?
I give up.
Action happens. Stupid, stupid action…
…and Dolph wins.
Holy bejezus in a handbag. As action films go, this was fucking retarded.
If I didn’t know better, I’d almost be convinced Direct Action was deliberately being as convoluted as possible in some occultic attempt at banishing reason. Seriously, there is a TON of bat-shittery throughout this film that I never even touched upon.
Plot and his devices seem to duplicate and multiply all by themselves like some horrifying bio-weapon created in someone’s bathtub. If ISIS ever got their hands on the logic behind this movie, they would confuse us all to death. It is possible that Direct Action’s screenwriter did at least do his best – despite obviously having been kidnapped as a baby, placed in someone’s cellar, denied access to the outside world, and then forced to write action movies on the walls and floor. So good effort.
The nausea this movie made me feel compelled me (much like the power of Christ) to look up the director online and hopefully exorcise him. But I realised it would be unfair to pick on a two year old who chewed off the corner of a boxed set of NCIS, and wrote the screenplay with his faecal matter all over his parents pine wardrobe.
That Dolph Lundgren thought appearing in this film was worth his time speaks volumes about how much Dolph Lundgren really needs better industry contacts and a hug.
Explain yourself man!
So what’s the deal here Dolph? Are you just too stupid to figure out that you could easily make better movies with your eyes closed?
Well, no he’s not, as it’s a well known fact that Dolph has an IQ in the 140’s (and he was given a Fullbright scholarship to MIT, and has a masters degree in chemical-fucking-engineering).
So if we can rule out him being too dense to read the scripts he is given, then what else could be motivating The Great Lundgrenator to seemingly give up on his career and squeeze out these shameful turds?
Well, I have a theory.
That Dolph Lundgren is indeed a secret genius, and that he DOESN’T GIVE ONE FROZEN FUCK about what he appears in, because all he cares about are the smelly green dollars that are air-dropped on to his front lawn. Dolph knows full well that what he makes is so far removed from anything artistic that it should be buried on Mars, but he gets a big juicy pay-check simply because it has his specific name written on it, and it’s well known enough to keep his coffers stocked full of body lotion and anti-wrinkle cream.
I truly do not believe for one second that he is under any illusions about the shit he signs up to create. I mean, why would he if he genuinely wants to make quality films? He can read. He has a (very brilliant) brain of his own to use, and surely he is invited to watch the films he appears in. So you would think at some point he would say enough is enough and either quit for good, or hire an actual human being for a casting agent instead of a broken refrigerator.
So either he needs the money and is forced into doing these things, like some kind of back-street Hollywood crack-whore, offering his ‘services’ for anyone with a camera and some blank-firing machine guns, or he is doing what he is doing through choice. Of course he may simply be taking whatever gig comes his way to stay in the business. Plus he may also simply love the idea of shooting things for money. I don’t know. It’s very late and my brain hurts.
But what I do know is that Dolph Lundgren has pew-pew’d his way through 30 years of film-making and is now the proud owner of a net worth of 14 million dollars. All that from breaking the nose of every stuntman you’ve ever met?
Dolph, you are definitely my hero.
By the way, my predictions were spot on. The black guy, the retired cop, and a bunch of extras all died peacefully in their sleep.