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Bruce Willis (and singlet) back in the role that made him famous |
Bruce – he’s still a hard act to follow
DIE HARD 4.0
Directed by Len Wiseman
Certificate 15
BRUCE Willis, aka Detective John McClane, is back in the role that brought him fame and fortune, still wearing the dirt-stained singlet that became a trademark of McClane’s ability to withstand more punishment than any other screen cop alive and come bouncing back for more.
This time he’s up against ‘cyber-terrorists’ led by techno expert Tom Gabriel (Timothy Olyphant) who is nursing a grudge after being fired from his job in the US government.
His revenge: to shut down the nation’s entire computer systems on the Fourth of July weekend.
Bruce, now sporting more stubble on his chin than on his head, is back in action-man mode, looking more jaded, longer in the tooth (I’m surprised he has any left) and surviving stunts that will leave you breathless – including one amazing shot where a car collides with a helicopter… in mid-air.
Assigned to escort a lank-haired young cyber-hack (appealingly played by Justin Long) to track down the mastermind, Bruce fits back into his favourite role like an old glove, knocking off three bad guys in the opening minutes in a blaze of action and splintered furniture.
“You’ve done stuff like this before – killing people?” asks the tremulous novice, as another body hurtles through the window and plummets six floors down.
“Yeah,” is the laconic reply. “But not for a long time.”
Therein lies the clue to both the strength and weakness of this latest foray into mayhem.
McClane has aged visibly, a cop who’s been beaten up once too often, which adds realism to the plot. He’s rough, tough and as hard as nails.
Too hard. So the rapport we felt in the previous Die Hard adventures is eroded because although he retains his integrity he loses our sympathy.
For the first time he seems invulnerable, even with his daughter Lucy (Mary Elizabeth Winstead) in tow – briefly seen as a toddler in the first Die Hard thriller and now matured into a chestnut-haired beauty with her dad’s attitude. The people’s hero has become a superhero.
Second problem: the villain just isn’t in the same league as our own home-grown Jeremy Irons and the unforgettable Alan Rickman. Olyphant is too young, blandly handsome, and only manages a hard stare to make his kalashnikov-toting minions tremble in their combat boots. Not good enough.
At least the spectacle is nothing short of superlative: an earthquake of exploding buildings, somersaulting cars and general mayhem that left me quite drained.
And please, Bruce, you really must do something about that soiled singlet.
It’s starting to look decidedly manky. |
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