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Plot: Charlie Case is a champion gymnast and a spy. Catch her if you can.

Hawaiian trash specialist Albert Pyun was never below stretching budgets, cutting corners were he could, and he had an affinity for making up projects on the spot. He had learned an important lesson on The Sword and the Sorcerer (1982) and Cyborg (1989): costumes, sets, props, and production design – all that stuff costs money. Why not set the action in a near-future where practically no extra work was required? Pyun was right on the money as the home video success of Nemesis (1992) would prove, and his follow-up Arcade (1993) was actually pretty ahead of its time. The big project Pyun was working on at the time was the cyberpunk/martial arts hybrid Heatseeker (1995). As these things tend to go, pre-production had been underway for some time but the project stalled for unknown reasons (in all likelihood having to do with money). Not one to sit around old Al packed up his cameras and shot one (or two) movies on the producers’ dime for as long as principal photography on Heatseeker (1995) was delayed. And so it was that Pyun shot Hong Kong 97 (1994) and Spitfire on the downtime. Lo and behold, thus the world got three Pyun romps for the price of one.

Giving credit where it is due old Al had an eye for spotting talent. He casted the practically unknown Borovnisa Blervaque in Nemesis (1992); the young, spunky and obviously talented Megan Ward in his Arcade (1993), and Spitfire (no idea what the title has to do with anything, but just roll with it) would be the star-making vehicle for Kristie Phillips. And who was miss Phillips? She was one of the most visible and publicized gymnasts in the mid-1980s. Kristie was on the cover of Sports Illustrated (September 1, 1986), crowned the 1987 senior U.S. National Champion, and on the fastlane to become one of the front-runners for the 1988 U.S. Olympic team. In short, Albert had found his star. Phillips was disciplined, flexible, and looked good in a leotard. Pyun would later introduce the world to Jill Pearce and Kimberly Warren with his Mean Guns (1997) and the ill-fated Blast (1997). The only thing needed now was a script. So Pyun, David Yorkin, and Christopher Borkgren set to outlining a halfway coherent premise on whatever napkins and empty pizza boxes that were lying around the office. That it just so happened to resemble Gymkata (1985) was purely coincidental, no doubt. Armed with something resembling a screenplay and his usual warm bodies filming began. The most creative thing about Spitfire is the Saul Bass inspired credit montage with Tina Cote furthering the idea that this really was supposed to be a James Bond knock-off.

In a luxurious resort philandering British secret agent Richard Charles (Lance Henriksen) has been spending quality time in the bedroom with his former paramour and CIA operative Amanda Case (Debra Jo Fondren). After the obligatory thrusting and fondling Case entrusts him with Ukrainian missile codes and bestows him with the knowledge that he has a daughter. The two are ambushed by Soviet spy Carla Davis (Sarah Douglas) and her henchmen (Robert Patrick and Brion James). Amanda ends up taking a bullet while Charles manages to escape with his jetpack. Meanwhile in Rome, Italy gymnast and martial arts enthusiast Charlie Case (Kristie Phillips) and drunken and disgraced reporter Rex Beechum (Tim Thomerson) both are at the sports complex. She’s preparing for the semi-finals in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia and the world finals in Athens, Greece and he’s looking for the next big scoop. After the first round Charlie happens to see Richard surrender to Soviet spies and in the confusion the spy is able to slip a disc containing nuclear launch codes in her bag. Believing to have witnessed an exchange of steroids Beechum pesters Charlie on the particulars. With the clock ticking the high-kicking hottie and the permanently drunk reporter must stay out of the clutches of enemy operatives, obtain a key with help of Charlie’s spy half-brother Alain (Simon Poland), deliver them to her other half-brother Chan in Hong Kong, and rescue her father from the encroaching Soviet spies. On top of all that Charlie and Rex have to remain on schedule to partake in the tournaments in Malaysia and Greece.

As for the rest of the cast outside of Lance Henriksen and Kristie Phillips the usual suspects are all here. Tim Thomerson, Brion James, Chad Stahelski, and Simon Poland all were Pyun regulars. The biggest names were probably Robert Patrick and Playmate of the Month (September, 1977) and Playmate Of the Year 1978 Debra Jo Fondren. After his stint with Cirio H. Santiago in the Philippines Patrick had landed a pair of high-profile appearances with smaller and bigger roles in Die Hard 2 (1990) and Terminator 2: Judgment Day (1991). Apparently those weren’t enough to establish him as an A-lister and before long Robert found himself right back in the low budget wasteland from whence he came and now at the mercy of Albert Pyun. Chad Stahelski has had a career revival in recent years as a director with the John Wick franchise. Henriksen is, of course, a living monument who has appeared in as many classics as in just as many low budget trash spectaculars. And then there’s Tina Cote. Cote was something of a muse for Pyun, and here she merely can be seen in the credit montage. The entire thing does sort of brings up the one lingering question: why was there never a Tina Cote spy-action romp? Albert obviously loved filming her. Imagine what a James Bond imitation with Cote could have been, especially with that tiny black number she was wearing in Mean Guns (1997) and how Pyun loved filming her in that.

When Al’s on fire, he truly is the master of low budget action. When Al’s on point he does low budget action better than anyone else, but even in 1995 it was clear that those occassions had become the exception rather than the rule. Hong Kong 97 (1994) had the good fortune of being set in Hong Kong and starring Ming-Na Wen and Spitfire was nothing but a little timewaster and diversion before Al could commence work on the thing he was actually invested and interested in doing, Heatseeker (1995). When it comes right down to it Hong Kong 97 (1994) and Spitfire are two sides of the same coin. Not only do they share similar plots, cast, and locations – it’s almost as if either could act as a subplot or background story for the other. The action direction is actually pretty good and the choreography is better than usual with Pyun. Faint praise as it may be, but there’s actually a figment of a good idea in Spitfire. For reasons only known to old Al he never saw it fit either revisit Spitfire or extend it into a franchise, either with Phillips or without, despite all the potential the concept held. Nemesis (1992) was a minor hit on home video, and that somehow spawned four sequels, three of which Pyun directed. Why waste something as exciting as a globe-trotting gymnast / super spy fighting baddies of any stripe. No, somehow Heatseeker (1995) was the priority. No wonder Kristie Phillips never acted again.

It all becomes even more the infuriating considering the depths that Pyun was in. The mid-nineties hardly were his best time. The avalanche of Nemesis sequels were that… sequels – and they did everything but live up to the promise of the Hong Kong inspired original. By 1995 Pyun was no longer able to ride the coattails of Cyborg (1989) and The Sword and the Sorcerer (1982). Arcade (1993) was an inspired little cyberpunk ditty obviously meant to capitalize on the virtual reality craze following The Lawnmower Man (1992), but that was two years ago. As near as we can tell Pyun was in dire straits and in desperate need of a hit. It probably didn’t help that he was a year away from the disastrous Adrenalin: Fear the Rush (1996). Not only did it kill the career of Natasha Henstridge in an instant, it also was subject to extensive studio-mandated re-writes/re-shoots. If that weren’t bad enough, said re-shoots failed not only to improve the main feature, they also spawned Nemesis 4: Cry Of Angels (1996) as a by-product. More than anything else Spitfire was a missed opportunity. There was a renewed interest in James Bond with the release of GoldenEye (1995), and while old Al usually could be counted upon to strike the iron while it’s hot, he didn’t do so here. Even without Lance Henriksen (and/or a new lead actress) Spitfire begged to be further explored and expanded upon. For shame, Albert, for shame.

Plot: benevolent stranger is hired to help locate a woman’s estranged father

The trio of Bloodsport (1988), Cyborg (1989) and Kickboxer (1989) were more than enough to establish Belgian strongman Jean-Claude Van Damme, the “muscles from Brussels”, as the new international martial arts / action hopeful. Universal Soldier (1992) cemented Van Damme’s reputation in America, giving way to a cameo in the surprisingly intelligent Arnold Schwarzenegger action movie deconstruction / genre sendup Last Action Hero (1993). Before his widely derided vanity project Street Fighter (1994) failed there was Hard Target (1993), a cynical pastiche of western conventions under guise of a no-holds-barred action movie, set against the backdrop of a decaying New Orleans in the contemporary Deep South. Hard Target is so American that you can smell the swamps, the humidity and the cynicism.

Chosen to direct Hard Target was Hong Kong action and bullet ballet specialist John Woo, who had stunned the world with the highly-kenetic Chow Yun-Fat heroic bloodshed offerings A Better Tomorrow (1986), The Killer (1989), Bullet In the Head (1990), and Hard Boiled (1992). Studio interference ensured that Woo’s visual trademarks were kept to an absolute minimum as to not affront Western cinematic sensibilities. In other words, the best way of introducing an exciting new action director to the world was by getting rid of the very things that made said director famous in the first place. John Woo’s trek through Hollywood continued with the John Travolta Die Hard (1989) knockoff Broken Arrow (1996), the science-fiction actioner Face/Off (1997) that pitted Travolta against then-indie-darling Nicholas Cage and the much publicized Tom Cruise starring and produced Mission: Impossible II (2000). Woo did in fact conquer Hollywood, be it through intermediaries as Quentin Tarantino, Robert Rodriguez, and the Wachowskis – each of whoms prime endeavours were rife with Hong Kong action aesthetics.

John Woo’s English-language debut Hard Target is first and foremost a homage to classic westerns. After an opening montage that has the feel of a 90s update of The Most Dangerous Game (1932) tough-as-nails Marine Force Recon turned merchant sailor Chance Boudreaux (Jean Claude Van Damme) saves 20-something Natasha Binder (Yancy Butler) from a swarming gang of thugs in one of the rough, lawless areas of New Orleans - more or less the Detroit of the Bayou in the mid-90s - which is about as vintage western as you’re likely to get. Mousy, wide-eyed, husky-voiced Michigan native Natasha soon hires Boudreaux - a mid-90s mulleted, denim-clad, boot-wearing, redneck equivalent to Clint Eastwood’s Man With No Name from Sergio Leone’s A Fistful Of Dollars (1964) – in locating her father Douglas (Chuck Pfarrer), a former Marine Recon that has become homeless in the two decades since Vietnam. Nefarious entrepreneur Emil Fouchon (Lance Henriksen) and his right-hand man Pik Van Cleef (Arnold Vosloo) have chosen the deep South as the latest target for their business venture that offers a very peculiar service: the possibiity for the incredibly wealthy to hunt the undesirable and the poor in the world’s most unhospitable regions. When Boudreaux’ homeless friend Elijah Roper (Willie C. Carpenter, as Willie Carpenter) is preyed upon things take a turn for the personal. With the help of detective Marie Mitchell (Kasi Lemmons) and his hermit, shotgun toting, moonshine brewing, hicks-from-the-sticks Uncle Douvee (Wilford Brimley) Chance at least has a fighting chance against Van Cleef and Fouchon.

There’s nothing to complain about Van Damme’s martial arts skills or the action choreography and Woo doesn’t have to rely on clever editing and trickery to make the fights any more hard-hitting than they already are. Typical of Western action the fights are clunky, slow and without much rhythm. This isn’t Hong Kong after all. Henriksen and Vosloo relish in the villainous glee as leader and henchman, respectively. Kasi Lemmons’ detective Marie Mitchell is too much of a one-note character to be anything beyond her designated archetype – and it’s telling that her and Willie C. Carpenter’s minority characters need to serve as sacrificial lambs before the Caucasian hero gets serious about stopping the threat of Henriksen’s Emil Fouchon. In fact it’s downright bizarre that in the entirety of New Orleans Lemmons’ and Carpenter’s characters are the only African-Americans in sight. Wilford Brimley lends an odd sense of credibility to what otherwise is an exercise in futility. Since this is Hollywood, and Hollywood needs its clichés; there’s the obligatory scene where the heroes outrun the fireball. At least there are the expected funny one-liners with “poor people get bored, too” serving as a coda.

Woo has the homages to classic westerns flying about fast and thick. Jean Claude Van Damme plays a drifter, a western character archetype. Like many drifters that Eastwood portrayed Boudreaux is a silent man of action. During the streetbrawl wherein Chance introduces himself to Natasha, Woo has Van Damme tuck his longcoat back as he and his assailants briefly exchange glances much in the way of a typical western duel. In their search for Natasha’s father they team up with a local detective, which is the closest Hard Target gets to the western convention of teaming up with the sheriff. “Ladies first,” says Van Damme’s Chance to Butler’s character in a scene scribbled almost verbatim from Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (1969). Arnold Vosloo’s character is an obvious tribute to western regular Lee Van Cleef. There are corrupt businessmen and doctors abound, and law enforcement is conveniently absent due to a strike. The New Orleans of Hard Target is mysteriously deserted and probably has the lowest count of African-Americans, an unfortunate reminder that black people in westerns weren’t allowed in until 1960 and only became regular cast members in the 1970s. There’s plenty of horseback riding and stuff blows up with all the fireworks John Woo is known for for absolutely no logical reason at all. The score is full of electric guitar, banjo and ‘Born On the Bayou’ from Creedence Clear Water Revival has a prominent place in the soundtrack. Of course do Natasha and Chance ride off into the sunset at the conclusion as if all the other western allusions weren’t obvious enough already.

Hard Target is another take on The Most Dangerous Game (1932) that isn’t helped in the slightest by two leads with no apparent acting skill. Van Damme still hasn’t mastered Shakespeare’s language but at least the script offers a reasonably fun explanation for Boudreaux’ thick French accent. Butler - daughter of Joe Butler, the drummer of American rock band The Lovin’ Spoonful, famous for their 1966 hit ‘Summer in the City’ – was primarily a TV actress and, to be entirely frank, it shows. Her constant look of bepuzzlement is priceless as if Butler is wondering how she ever agreed to this screenplay. Henriksen is at his best when he plays villains and Hard Target allows him to show his range. The mid-nineties weren’t kind to Jean-Claude Van Damme with interchangeable actioners as Timecop (1992), Sudden Death (1995) and Maximum Risk (1996). There was never any question about Van Damme as a martial artist which his early titles Cyborg (1989), Kickboxer (1989) and Lionheart (1990) so aptly demonstrated. Universal Soldier (1992) required him to emote minimally but that movie was actually helped by Van Damme’s detached, robotic performance. Hard Target is certainly better than Replicant (2001) but that isn’t much in the way of a compliment. As far as Van Damme action romps go, there are far worse offenders than the routine Hard Target. John Woo did right in dressing this up as a thinly-veiled homage to his favorite westerns.