Friday, September 08, 2006
Craig T. Nelson
Carl Weathers—the only person in Predator who didn’t become governor—stars in Action Jackson as Sgt. Jericho “Action” Jackson, a rogue Detroit copper with a grudge against Peter Dellaplane (Craig T. Nelson; frickin’ Coach! how great!) a powerful car dealer, who cost Jackson his “stripes” when Jackson nearly “tore off” the arm of Shawn, Dellaplane’s son, during a sexual assault investigation.
Before I begin with the synopsis, let me just say, Action Jackson is a cheesy movies with nothing but two-dimensional characters—it’s what provides the charm—the characters are either portrayed as all good or all bad, with perhaps the exception of Sidney, a junkie lounge singer, who works for Dellaplane. She grows from a heroin addict to heroine, and by film’s end, kicks the horse. No more riding the white pony for Sid. Good for her.
The plot revolves around a scheme of Dellaplane’s to take over the Auto Workers Association (AWA). He kills off several key members of the board. Jackson learns of the plan from his friend Tony Marcetti (later killed). Now all Jackson needs is the evidence to bring him down. So, he turns to Dellaplane’s wife (Sharon Stone). She feeds Jackson info. For her efforts, Peter puts a bullet through her heart, coldly telling his bodyguard after that “The gun works” as he tosses the murder weapon to him. Boy, witnesses are dropping left and right. Yes, sirree bob. What’s worse though for our hero, he’s being framed for the wife’s murder. Dum…dum…dum! Dellaplane’s cronies dumped her body in Jackson’s crib.
So, finally, Jackson turns to Sid, the aforementioned junkie. With her assistance they lure Oliver Rooney, a partner of Peter’s to an isolated spot where Jackson beats out the info Dellaplane plans to kill off the leader of the AWA at his birthday party. Sure didn’t see that coming. But Dellaplane has tracked Jackson, and he captures him. From there Dellaplane proceeds with the standard villain monologue where he reveals all his nefarious plans, and then leaves before watching the job finished. Stupid. With Dellaplane gone, a bouncer from Sid’s club rescues Jackson—ah, the deus ex machina—and Jackson saves the day.
This is not a good movie. It is a bad movie. But is so colossally bad as to be good. Funny paradox that. If you want a cheesy movie to laugh at its stupidity, check it out. But don’t expect The Godfather.
Posted by Nick at 1:21 AM