Jean-Claude Van Damme sadly confesses that line to us directly during a six minute(!) monologue near the end of JCVD, and it appropriately applies not only to his movie but also to Bruce Campbell's latest directorial effort, the nudge-nudge, wink-wink My Name is Bruce. In both pictures, the fading stars play themselves, are broke and divorced, depend on their fans to remind them who they once were (even if they get exhausted and annoyed by it), and will take whatever pathetic project comes their way. And yet, the two movies couldn't be more different. Both actors had an ideal chance to satirize their images; one, unfortunately, takes the easy route while the other, to my complete surprise, is looking for something other than laughs. Deep down, he just wants to be accepted.
Start with My Name is Bruce, a low budget comedy shot on Bruce Campbell's property in Oregon. I was looking forward to this movie, having been a fan of Bruce's since I first saw Evil Dead 2 when I was fourteen. I wore out the VHS I had in no time thanks to Bruce's hilarious performance. The fact he was able to hold the screen so long by himself was like nothing I had ever seen before. As great as he is there, I believe his defining role is as Elvis in Bubba Ho-Tep, where Bruce combines the comedic side I've always known with a sense of melancholy he's never really displayed. It's quite beautiful.
But back to the new movie. My Name is Bruce feels like an inevitable project for Bruce at this point in his career. It's supposed to have a "truth is stranger than fiction" vibe (or "life imitating art imitating life," depending on your point of view), but instead of really taking some risks and giving the audience something to chew on, the movie is exactly what we expect it to be. The jokes are predictable, as is the structure, which leaves us with nothing but a bunch of one liners and scenes of physical comedy we've seen a hundred times. For some fans (and there are those who are that obsessed), that might be enough but for this guy, it comes off lazy.
The movie opens, naturally, with a group of kids accidentally waking up a Chinese ghost who whacks off heads with a fancy blade. In a state of panic, the lone survivor (and die hard Bruce fan) kidnaps his idol in hopes he can put his monster killing skills to good use. Of course, Bruce thinks the kid is full of shit and that the town is full of actors. There's a romantic interest, who hates the hero at first but quickly realizes he's a lovable old rascal. And since the movie is shameless enough to throw that in, it's no shock that Bruce turns into a coward and runs when he discovers the monster isn't a fake (which supplies one of the movie's few laugh out loud scenes as Bruce carelessly shoots the townspeople instead of the monster).
The lack of energy makes the self-aware aspect look all the more cheap. True, there are some fun scenes of Bruce boozing it up and getting humiliated on set, but for every one of those, there are five gags we've already experienced in other, better movies. Worse, Bruce is not particularly likable in this picture. I understand that being arrogant is part the act; my problem with it is that it's no longer amusing, just smarmy. The best thing that can be said about My Name is Bruce is that it is miles better than his directorial debut, The Man With the Screaming Brain. Unlike that movie, at least this one is not altogether boring. Plus, it gives Ted Raimi not one but three pretty funny roles. At 84 minutes, the movie could have made its tired point as a half hour sitcom episode.
Another matter altogether is Mabrouk El Mechri's JCVD, which, like My Name is Bruce, wants the audience to be in on the joke but doesn't shove it into our collective faces. The movie is a strange beast, one I had to watch twice before I could fully wrap myself around it. It opens with a tracking shot of Van Damme kicking some serious ass, until a piece of the set falls over and the star is complaining about his age affecting his ability to do too much activity in one take. He's getting too old for this shit, and it's not just his body that's getting tired. Aside from being a hero in Brussels, no one seems to care who he is anymore. To top things off, he's about to lose a custody battle over his daughter.
The first ten minutes or so of the picture establishes this, and it's made all the more effective by the sensationally drab cinematography. It's at this point people expecting Bloodsport should exit the room. Back in Brussels, Van Damme makes a quick trip to the post office to get some money he's being wired and finds himself in the middle of a robbery. It's a set up for a perfectly conventional thriller, but that's the point. Instead of stating the obvious, JCVD uses the actor being held hostage as a metaphor for his stardom. Normally, we'd expect Van Damme to kick his way through the bad guys, but instead, we see that he's just a man. Beating the stew out people is something he does in the movies; it's not who he really is.
The people on the outside (and one of the robbers) are oblivious to the fact he's only human. They all constantly make note that "he's a big star," which automatically means he doesn't deal with the same problems as the rest of the world. The movie touches on this a number of times, most notably when Van Damme is riding in a cab and the driver calls him rude because he says he's tired (she also points out that he looks much better on screen, which exposes the duality between his two personas). Deep down, there's a sense that Van Damme wishes he could be that guy he is in the movies, that there wouldn't be any consequences if he were to take matters into his own hands and be a real hero. But the weathered look on his face is an indicator that he is aware of the difference between fantasy and reality.
The movie is astonishingly well made. Aside from the striking cinematography, JCVD also benefits from sharp editing, a memorable supporting cast, and a script filled with moments of unexpected humor. I'm sure, though, that the burning question many will have is, how is Van Damme in the movie? For lack of a better word, he's excellent. A great deal of his performance is given through body language and facial expressions, and it is here he excels the most. The court room scenes during his custody battle are borderline devastating, as the camera simply focuses on Van Damme, who we quickly witness deteriorating into an empty shell.
The camera spends a lot of time still, simply pointed at its subject, most notably during an uninterrupted confessional that is randomly placed towards the end of the movie. The chair Van Damme is sitting in suddenly lifts him to the ceiling, and it is here he goes into a heartfelt monologue, as if he's finally looking into a mirror, spilling every thought he was always afraid to reveal to anyone, mostly himself. The argument could be made that it goes on too long, but that doesn't mean it isn't mesmerizing. It seems like Van Damme's way of telling us his audience was really all he ever had, and even though he may be past his expiration date as a notable action hero, they're still the only people he can truly depend on. The days of communicating with us through kicks and punches is over. Now, he needs us to show him some mercy.
The movie is frustrating in spots. There are a few too many confrontations involving the post office robbers, and a scene where Van Damme's parents show up doesn't get the kind of mileage it wants. Despite that, JCVD is a noteworthy achievement, a picture I had modest expectations of that ended up leaving me with something I had not thought possible: I had sympathy for Jean Claude Van Damme. I had a sense of it throughout, but it wasn't until the movie's final scene, which hits just the right note, that I knew how effective the movie was. JCVD does not achieve greatness, but that doesn't stop it from being a small treasure.
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Copyright, Hell and Beyond, 2009
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