Movie Review: Die Hard

Yes, that Die Hard, not any of the several sequels, most of which are inferior to the original.

Made in 1988, a year after Lethal Weapon, this action film reflects the times it was made. Hair styles resemble those from the early 80s. But more importantly, despite its action roots, Die Hard has elements of modern America from the 80s (and the 70s, really).

In particular, John McClane is meeting up with his wife. They appear, at the very least, to be separated. She's a successful businesswoman, and he's a tough cop, who isn't thrilled with her career, nor her desire to keep her maiden name. His wife works for a Japanese multinational company, her boss being Japanese, who's portrayed as the noble boss (though he's alive for only a few minutes).

The comic relief character, who plays Holly's insufferable colleague, seems all hopped up on drugs, and plays an acquisitions guy, again, comically referring to the business of the times.

Like Lethal Weapon, African Americans play major (though not the main) roles, from Sergeant Al Powell (Reginald VelJohnson) to Argyle (the driver) to one of the special Agent Johnsons (there are two) to Theo, who plays the computer wizard (the only terrorist that isn't killed).

Admittedly, the white and black characters are caricatured (except for a few folks, including John McClane) from the very white reporter, the drugged up business colleague, the driver, even, to some extent, the nerdy computer terrorist. In this decade, it seemed important to put African Americans in key roles in action films. I'm sure the movie industry felt they couldn't put a non-white American in a lead role, but they were perfectly happy showing interracial harmony.

Even so, while films would have African Americans playing prominent roles in big budget films, members of other ethnicities didn't ever fare that well. One clever idea that both Lethal Weapon and Die Hard both use are the sensible African American, and the crazy white guy, playing against stereotypes (say, Eddie Murphy in 48 Hours or Beverly Hills Cop).

After watching this film for the first time in a while, I realized that the relationship between John McClane and Al Powell (the cop) is practically homo-erotic. During their dialogue, Powell says he loves him (admittedly, in the way, a fan loves their fantasy football start player), and is there to support him. Powell admits a sad incident in his life (killing a kid by accident), and when McClane finally succeeds, he comes out, with Powell smiling, as if it's really Powell that McClane has been doing this for, rather than to help his wife. It's shown far more lovingly than his meeting with his wife.

There are a bunch of elements that make this film work, none the least of which is a star performance by Alan Rickman as Hans Gruber. Rickman plays the slimy German terrorist (he's British, folks!) and would use that role to lead him to others (these days playing a recurring role as Snape). As much as this made Bruce Willis's career, it really vaulted (relatively speaking) Alan Rickman from nowhere.

There's a lot of clever thinking, from the way McClane and Gruber meet each other and Gruber pretends to be an American, then reads a name off a directory, and eventually is handed an unloaded gun.

Sure, the action sequences are a bit much, but it's pretty clever, much like Goldfinger's fiendishly clever idea (to make the gold unusable in Fort Knox, so that it raises the value of the rest of the gold). In this case, Gruber wants to steal money while making it seem like a terrorist act (an idea that would become more relevant some 13 years later).

There's no sense that the Gruber is going to be completely evil (most films like bad guys who is not only bad, but completely devoid of any sense of fairness). He appears as if he's perfectly willing to split the loot (even as many of his sidekicks get killed off).

And perhaps one of the better ideas is the idea of John McClane as the action hero everyman, who tries to do his best, given the circumstances. Given his superhero survival abilities, there's always a sense he's struggling, he's in pain, and that he's never sure things are going right. He's insecure, at times, requiring his buddy Al to talk him through, to make him do the right thing, and eventually admits that he didn't treat his wife that well.

I had seen, for example, Lethal Weapon, which, to me, doesn't hold up at all well, leading from one stupid thing to another, in particular, how much they try to batter the idea that Mel Gibson's character is simply crazy.

As unbelievable as some of the action is, often telegraphed so the audience knows what to think and what to see, Die Hard still pushes the right buttons, perhaps none so inspiring as Beethoven's Ninth being played over the opening of the vault, once the power has been cut (to be fair, it's completely ridiculous having this vault in a place of work--heck, if it's a Japanese company, put it in Japan!).

Even so, still fun after all these years.