Steven Seagal – the Man, the Myth, the Legend

Like Chuck Norris, Steven Seagal’s route to action hero stardom came via his martial arts teaching. After training in Japan and achieving a 7th dan rank in aikido (highly unusual for a foreigner), Seagal returned to the US and opened a dojo (a Japanese style martial arts training center) in Southern California. He also served as a martial arts coordinator for a couple of James Bond films in the early eighties, but it wasn’t until he was introduced to Warner Brothers by his student, Hollywood agent and movie producer Michael Ovitz, that Seagal made his first movie, 1988’s Above the Law.

In general, Seagal’s movies are chock full of bad guys who seriously need their asses kicked, and Seagal is only too happy to oblige. His fight scenes, embellished by taunting remarks by Seagal and bad guys alike, are generally great fun to watch. Despite no acting experience previous to Above the Law, Seagal plays an excellent tough guy, and he does it with his own unique sense of style. Personality wise, he is everything the stolid Chuck Norris is not.

Before reviewing the best of Seagal’s movies, I’d like to point out a few things to those unfamiliar with Seagal’s onscreen persona:

Seagal’s hairstyle has been remarkably consistent over the 40 movies he’s made in the last 25 years. He wears it long and combed back, and whenever he can get away with it, he sports a pony tail, sometimes short, sometimes longer. The receding hairline apparent in his first film was replaced by a more robust, V-shaped hairline after a few movies. His hair is always black, without a hint of gray; aging is not part of his mojo. In some films his hair is slicked back with grease, while in others it’s just combed back and looks dry and a bit frizzy. Perhaps he’s on the fence on the to-grease-or-not-to-grease issue. Or maybe he just forgot to bring the grease for those movies.

When Seagal does a movie, he decides what to wear (he decides, not the director, producer, or anyone from wardrobe), and it seems he has a large collection of stylish jackets. These jackets began appearing in 1994 (in On Deadly Ground) when Seagal was 44 years old and had clearly put on some weight. The coats do a good job hiding Seagal’s torso; unlike Van Damme, Stallone, or Schwarzenegger, Seagal never spent much time in a weight room. His jackets are usually leather, sometimes buckskin, occasionally fringed, and when he’s feeling especially sassy, he’ll break out ones with cool Native American or Asian artwork on the backs. I imagine these are his favorites, but in his later films he tones it down and typically wears a standard black coat (sans murals) with padded shoulders. These jackets seem to suit him well (he’s rarely seen jacketless), but raise a perplexing question:  what would he do if a movie was set in July in Arizona, or, say, on Miami Beach? Answer: Seagal decides where and when to make his movies, so this is really a non-issue.

Seagal’s movies often include references to his religious/spiritual inclinations and background. Although his father was Jewish and his mother Irish, Seagal converted to Buddhism after living in Japan and having significant contact with Tibetan lamas escaping China. Seagal was actually declared a tulku (an honorary title given to a recognized lama reincarnate) by a senior Tibetan lama. The American Buddhist community reacted with skepticism, given that one of the centerpieces of Buddhism is altruism toward all living things. Conversely, the main centerpiece of all Seagal’s movies is the serious ass whipping of anyone who disrespects him, and the violent killing of those foolish enough to directly oppose him.

This religious quandary is similar to one explored in the TV series, Kung Fu, which stared David Carradine as a Shaolin monk traveling through the American Old West in search of his brother. The monk does everything he can to avoid using his martial arts prowess against a steady parade of douchebags who call him “Chinaman” and try to kick his ass. When forced to defend himself, Carradine almost gently disabled his adversaries, who were more stunned than hurt.

Such is not the case with Seagal. After a few choice words, he typically dispatches his foes by breaking their arms by bending them the wrong way at the elbow joint (this is one of his favorite moves), ramming their heads into glass cases (jewelry stores are convenient for this), or snapping their necks. In some of his movies (and these are always my favorites), he’ll add a scene where he happens to run into a group of thugs, perhaps in a liquor store, and then let the mayhem begin. These altercations have no connection to the plot, but exist solely to add spice and prevent the viewer’s attention from straying. An excellent tactic, but not one that enamored him to the Buddhist community.

After watching a few Seagal movies, the attentive watcher must conclude that he is globally savvy and a multicultural tour de force. He does many dope things that most of us never will do, like wearing cool Tibetan prayer beads , living in exotic foreign countries, speaking multiple languages (including Ebonics), and hanging out with hip black gangster types, who consider him “the man.”

One more thing important to keep in mind: In almost all of Seagal’s movies, regardless of his name or the plots or locations, he is basically the same character. He is ex-CIA, he is still connected, and he pissed off the CIA or some military branch at some point because he chose to do the morally right thing, which meant going rogue and killing some bad guys without permission. His reputation among the covert world of government agents is that of the ultimate badass, but these same agents never fail to disdain him, and then they pay the price. He also does not dally with loose women (although he’s been accused of sexual harassment a number of times on his movie sets), because being a normal guy and giving into horny impulses would be a sign of weakness. This sameness of character conveniently allows him to not bother changing his hair style and to continue wearing his favorite jackets.

To best understand Seagal’s career, it’s helpful to categorize his movies chronologically:

 The early films: Above the Law, 1988, Hard to Kill, 1990, Marked for Death, 1990, Out for Justice, 1991.

Hitting the Big Time: Under Siege, 1992

Screwing the Pooch: On Deadly Ground, 1994,

A recovery of sorts: Under Siege 2: Dark Territory, 1995

He’s back!: The Glimmer Man, 1996, Fire Down Below, 1997

WTF??: My Giant, The Patriot

He’s back, again!: Exit Wounds

Okay, lower your expectations for good: Ticker, Half Past Dead, The Foreigner, and 22 more straight to DVD flicks.

Seagal’s must see movies:

1.  Above the Law, Seagal’s first movie, very effectively establishes the Seagal character and sets the baseline for what to expect from him in future movies. We are introduced to Seagal’s Japanese background as an aikido instructor in an early scene where he seems to rather unnecessarily beat up on his students. We are introduced to his ex-military/CIA background, and his exposure to a corrupt officer/opium kingpin who annoys Seagal by torturing some unfortunate locals in Vietnam. We are also introduced to his religious and spiritual inclinations, which first include references to Buddhism, but quickly shift to his Catholic beliefs. This can be a little confusing if we choose to dwell on it, but the point is this: regardless of what religion Segal practices on any given day, he is a religious guy, and as such, his violent acts are assumed to serve the greater good, and thus are allowable, even encouraged, by the almighty.

This movie also contains many Seagal signature moments, such as the “bar scene”, the “liquor store scene”, the “Let’s put our guns down and fight so I can thoroughly  kick your ass before I kill you scene”, the  “multiple guys are pointing guns at me, but not to worry, I will soon kick their ass scene”, and the infamous, “I’m tied up by the bad guys and they are going to kill me, but I will simply use my arm strength to break free of my ties and kill them first scene”.

These scenes are usually the highlights of any Seagal movie, and I don’t want to spoil it for viewers by offering too much detail. But, just so you get a taste of what to expect, in the “bar scene”, Seagal walks into a bar looking for information, and when the locals aren’t cooperative (some of the less bright even make disparaging remarks), he beats the shit out of 3 or 4 of them, until finally someone talks. Many of Seagal’s best fight scenes occur in bars or restaurants (liquor stores and jewelry stores run a close second).

The plot in Above the Law involves CIA operatives, their South American crime partners, local Mafiosos, and an unfortunate priest who is aware of their drug smuggling activities. When a bomb is set at Seagal’s church in an effort to kill the priest, many innocents are injured, and as you might imagine, this makes Seagal a little testy. The bad guys seem to think they’re “above the law.” In the end, they find out they aren’t “above Seagal’s law.”

Babe (or lack thereof) alert: I’m not sure how this happened, but none other than Sharon Stone played the role of Seagal’s wife. This was four years before Stone’s role as the evil vixen in Basic Instinct, for which she became an enduring sex symbol. But in Above the Law, Stone plays a boring, unglamorous housewife, wearing baggy jeans and toting an infant. As if to make up for this miscast, Segal’s cop partner is played by Pam Grier, a sex symbol in her own right. There’s even a scene where some cops are making crude remarks and drooling over her. But Grier, who was only 39 (young enough to be hot) when the movie was filmed, does little to inject sex appeal or much energy into her performance. This could be forgiven if only she wore a low-cut blouse, or at least showed a little leg, but no such luck. The casting of Stone and Grier in this movie seems like a waste.

2.  Hard to kill was Seagal’s second movie, and although I don’t consider it among his best, it bears comment for a few reasons. First, this movie has Seagal in a coma and hospitalized for seven years, during which time he grows a goatee (his nurse, Kelly LeBrock, was actually the decision maker here). The goatee, in combination with his long, uncombed hair, makes him look like a hippie. I think at this early stage of his career, Seagal may have been contemplating a different look, or at least some variance in his hair style. Regardless, this is a rare moment for Seagal – we actually see him with his hair not neatly arranged.

Second, Seagal really gets into his Asian roots in this film. After he snaps out of his coma, he rehabs by sticking needles in himself. Nothing wrong with a little acupuncture, but he also attaches clumps of some burning substance to the needles. Imagine a shirtless Seagal meditating with smoking needles stuck in his torso. This therapy supposedly played a significant role in returning him to his badass form after seven years in a hospital bed. As for the burning substance, it may have been an herbal remedy, or some medicinal type of incense. Or, it could have been hashish. Only Seagal knows.

This next item may seem trivial, but it perhaps allows us an unintended glimpse into the Seagal psychology. The first few scenes of Hard to Kill take place on Oscar night 1993, and this seemingly inconsequential fact is mentioned no fewer than six times. Viewed in context of Seagal’s ego and ambitions, what’s he trying to tell us? Was he merely hoping for an invitation to the Academy awards ceremony? Or, is he really suggesting that that it should have been him on the podium accepting the Best Actor Award, instead of Tom Hanks, who won for Philadelphia?

My final comment on Hard to Kill is in reference to the gun battles. This movie falls victim to an all-too-often made mistake in action sequences: the bad guys who can’t shoot straight. Eight villains, all with machine guns or shot guns, blasting away, while Seagal, armed with only a pistol, escapes unscathed with his girlfriend, after killing four or five of them (he ran over one too, for good measure). This is lazy film making, and while a degree of it is tolerable, too much is cartoonlike and detracts from the effectiveness of the movie.

3. In Marked for Death (Seagal’s 3^rd film) Seagal decided to forgo the eastern mystique and get back to his Catholic roots. After a good opening action sequence showing our hero ruining the day for a pack of scoundrels in some drug ridden Latin American country, Seagal, remorseful over the killing of a young, naked woman (I’m not sure why it bothered him; she’d just shot his partner, and clearly would have shot him), he goes to confession and the priest tells him, basically, to take a chill pill. What meaning does this scene have? None, really, other than to establish that Seagal really does regret killing people, especially if they are nude babes with hot bodies.

Seagal’s moral conflicts quickly are forgotten once he learns a gang of Jamaican drug dealers have infiltrated his city. He’s in a bar when a crew of Rastafarians show up to gun down a rival mobster. Seagal intervenes, to the detriment of the Jamaicans. The action shifts into overdrives from this point.

Marked for Death is a blast for a couple of reasons. First the Jamaicans play superb bad guys. Their voodoo curses and Rastafarian accents all seem very authentic. The main villain, Screwface, is particularly creepy. His henchmen think they are protected by Screwface’s voodoo magic, which makes them foolishly brave. They eagerly engage in hand to hand combat with Seagal, although it’s unlikely any of them ever had any formal martial arts training. As you might guess, this does not bode well for them. Elbows broken – check. Heads smashed through glass ­– check. Necks snapped – check.

There’s a slight logistical hiccup that occurs midway through this film, and it’s the type of thing that the seasoned fan of Seagal will learn to ignore, or else, well, they will never become a seasoned fan. This lapse has to do with the transporting of an arsenal of automatic weapons and bombs on a commercial airliner (this happens when Seagal flies to Jamaica to hunt for Screwface). True, the movie was pre-9-11, but it still stretches credibility. The stretching reaches its breaking point when Segal returned to the US with Screwface’s severed head. But these improbabilities are really just nitpicking, aren’t they?  What really matters is Seagal’s great sword fight with Screwface (spoiler alert) in which Segal slices open Screwface’s crotch, and then cuts his head off. Now, that was greatness.

4. 1991’s Out for Justice, Seagal’s fourth effort, stands alone for one important reason: Seagal, after achieving commercial success playing almost identical characters in his first three flicks, decided it was time to show the world that he was a serious actor with Oscar aspirations. To this end, he decided to spread his wings and depart from his standard persona. In Out for Justice, Seagal is an Italian cop (with no CIA/DEA/military background) from the old neighborhood in Brooklyn. The plot is simple: Seagal tracks down a suicidal, lunatic mobster who is intent on leaving a bloody wake in his path on his final night among the living.

Seagal was likely influenced by Goodfellas, a Mafia movie released in 1990. Robert De Niro, Ray Liotta, and Joe Pesci star in Goodfellas, which was nominated for six Academy awards, including Best Picture, Best Director (Martin Scorsese), and Best Actor in a Supporting Role (won by Pesci).    

Out for Justice works hard to create the authentic old-school New York gangster feel that Goodfellas did so well. The characters in Out for Justice are named Richie and Vinnie and Frankie and Bobby and Don Vittorio and so on. The language is full of “ya prick ya”, “ya fuckin puke”, “bust my balls”, and is also sprinkled liberally with Italian slang, like “palooka”, “mamaluke” (a fool) and “finoke” (slang for homosexual). At the center of this chummy world is Seagal, who does an admirable job with the Italian dialect and even speaks in Italian frequently. Seagal definitely has a flair for foreign languages – he is fluent in Japanese, and speaks some Mandarin and Italian.

But, sadly enough, Oscar caliber acting requires more than being able to speak multiple languages. Seagal’s portrayal of cop Gino Felino (don’t ask me why he chose this name) is nothing more than Seagal dressing up his typical character with street dialect and extra profanity. Rather than create a unique character, his approach almost seems to detract from the real character, who, of course, is Seagal.

The good news is, Out for Justice is plenty effective, regardless of Seagal’s attempt to take his acting to the next level. The fight scenes in this film are top-notch, and the “bar scene” in particular is epic, for both the fighting and the taunting. And the climactic brawl, in which Seagal goes mano a mano with the main bad guy, shows that at age 40, Seagal’s hand speed and aikido skills are still world class.  

Also notable in this film is Jerry Orbach, who later became famous for his television role as Detective Lennie Briscoe on the Emmy winning Law & Order series. Orbach plays a small role as Seagal’s partner, and in one particular scene, after inspecting a couple of dead bodies, he mutters, “I’m getting too old for this.” This statement could be viewed as ironic, because Orbach’s role in Law & Order began shortly after Out for Justice was released, and kept him immersed in the world of violent crime for the next 12 years, until he died of cancer in 2004.

A final note on Out for Justice:  early in the picture, some jackass tosses a German Shepard puppy out of a station wagon. Seagal recovers the adorable pup, which rides in his car for the rest of the movie. Yeah, it’s a little campy, but Seagal is an animal lover, and he likes demonstrating his soft side to balance out the broken bones and body count. Anyway, at the very end, Seagal spots the chump who abandoned the dog, and confronts him. The hapless fellow takes a swing, and Seagal spins him around and kicks him in the nuts from behind. The man drops in agony, his testicles lodged somewhere between his stomach and throat. This move is called a “Captain Hook”, and I don’t believe it’s formally taught at any Aikido dojos. Seagal has mastered it none the less. The puppy then pisses on the man as Seagal and his girl snicker and make wise cracks. Fade to credits.

Seagal’s first four movies were all solid box office hits. Above the Law cost $7.5 million to make, and grossed $19 million in the US. Hard to Kill and Marked for Death cost an estimated $12 mil apiece, and each earned $47 mil US. Out for Justice cost $14 mil and grossed $40 million.

These are the kind of numbers Hollywood moguls like. Segal had become a bankable lead man, and his next movie would catapult him to the ranks of an international star.

5. Under Siege was one of 1992’s biggest films. It grossed $83 million domestically, and beat such notables as Patriot Games with Harrison Ford, Scent of a Woman, for which Al Pacino won Best Actor, and My Cousin Vinnie with Joe Pesci. It’s revenue fell short of Clint Eastwood’s Unforgiven (four Oscars, including Best Picture), Basic Instinct with Michael Douglas and Sharon Stone, and A Few Good Men, which earned Jack Nicholson a Best Supporting Actor Oscar.

With a production budget of $35 million, Under Siege was a higher quality movie than Seagal’s previous flicks. This allowed for the casting of two well-known actors to oppose Seagal: Tommy Lee Jones and Gary Busey played the bad guys, two turncoat navy officers who intend to steal nuclear missiles from the battleship USS Missouri.

Seagal plays a cook on the ship, but – make sure you’re sitting down – he is really a highly decorated but demoted Navy Seal. The plot of Under Siege is centered around Seagal’s heroic effort to stop the traitors from stealing and deploying the missiles.

Seagal is in fine form in this film, although his fight scenes aren’t quite as impressive as earlier movies. He also clearly had been reigned in a bit by the producers – Under Siege is less about Steven Seagal, the man, the myth, the legend, than we are accustomed. Seagal shares screen time with others, something he is not used to, and – gasp – for this role he cut off his pony tail.

Having made that sacrifice, one could only hope that Seagal would be compensated with at least an Oscar nomination. To what I can only imagine was his utter chagrin, he could not even finagle an invitation to the show, despite the fact that Under Siege was nominated for two Oscars. But these were for Best Sound Effects Editing and Best Sound, and only the technicians responsible for those elements got invited. So, while a few nerds and propeller heads who held microphones or worked in the backroom attended the Academy Awards and rubbed elbows with Hollywood’s elite, poor Steven was left to watch from his home, or maybe he went to a bar someplace. In the end, this may have been for the best, because I don’t think Seagal would have reacted too well if he was nominated, but lost. Busting elbows at the Oscars would not win him any friends. Even a Captain Hook or two would be frowned upon.

Oscar issues aside, Seagal’s ego must have been soaring. Fresh from staring in a well- received blockbuster, he had the world at his fingertips. He was now in a position to call the shots for his next movie; he was in complete control of his destiny. So, what did he do? Seagal decided it was time to break out the can of cinematic whoop ass, and really let the world know just how multifaceted, deep, and awesome he was. We’re talking spiritually, ethically, artistically, and stylistically. And of course, it goes without saying he would also reinforce his utter martial arts badass-ness.

6. To this end, he produced, directed, and stared in On Deadly Ground, a movie that even his most loyal fans have to agree, totally sucks. (This is truly a “must not see” movie, but it warrants study because it’s such a defining chapter in Seagal’s career).

This movie is so bad that it can be thoroughly reviewed by listing all the embarrassing, stupid, poorly executed, and self-indulgent moments. Doing so covers the film in its entirety, because almost every scene falls in the above categories. Compiling every asinine nuance would be both tedious and impractical, so I’ll stick with pointing out a few of the most salient blunders.

First, a quick plot recap: Seagal works for an oil company, and his job is to put out oil well blowout fires, which is accomplished by setting a massive explosion that starves the fire by sucking up all available oxygen. Seagal’s character, Forrest Tate, is considered an ace at this dangerous profession; like all Seagal’s characters, he is amazingly good at what he does.

It soon becomes apparent to Seagal that his employer is greedy and dishonest and cares nothing about the environment. Further, Seagal discovers that the company’s evil president, played by Michael Caine, is planning to open a new drilling operation that will contaminate Alaska’s pristine wilderness and screw over the native Eskimo residents.

When Caine finds out Seagal is on to him, he orders his henchmen to kill the disloyal employee. Out of his new found love for the local Eskimos, one who happens to be a cute young lady, Seagal decides to destroy the new drilling platform.

On Deadly Ground begins with Seagal arriving at the scene of an oil fire in Alaska. He’s noticeably heavier than he was in Under Siege (too many celebratory dinners?), and he’s wearing a fringed rawhide jacket that I bet he found in a boutique clothier, perhaps in Taos or Jackson Hole, that targets tourists with plenty of money but no taste or common sense. Once Seagal’s sure the cameras have given his coat its due, he sets explosives and extinguishes the fire. By all accounts, this is a difficult task that requires considerable planning and risk, but Seagal does it quickly and nonchalantly. As he basks in his fearlessness, he lights a cigarette and takes a couple awkward puffs before nipping off a flask. Huh? Who is this new Seagal? A smoker and a hard drinking man?

No, he’s not a smoker or a drinker.  He seemed to concede to that pretty quickly, because he loses the smokes and booze, except for one bar scene where he’s trying to look cool with a cigarette, but he can’t seem to figure out how to hold it, and ends up cupping it in his hand as if he’s trying to hide it. This is a mildly embarrassing moment, but it’s about to get worse.

A big roughneck in the bar is hassling a decrepit Native American man. As soon as it starts you know what’s coming. Unfortunately, the ensuing brawl is probably the most uninspired of Seagal’s career. The men Seagal fights, and I use that verb liberally, are either old or sedated by alcohol or simply have no idea how to fight. Seagal himself looks too lazy to move much. He just kind of stands there and tosses guys aside as they rush at him. He disables one man solely by grabbing his nuts. Probably took less energy than punching him.

But the main antagonist hasn’t been addressed yet. In one of the most bizarre and silly moments I’ve ever seen in a film, Seagal approaches the big dude, and says, “And now we’re gonna play the hand-slap game.”

Instead of taking a swing or calling bullshit on that lame idea, the roughneck places his hands over Seagal’s upturned palms. Segal slaps his hand, and then, just like we played back in the fifth grade, the winner gets a free punch. After three punches, the big dude is probably wondering why he didn’t just try his luck at straight up fisticuffs. But the scene’s not over yet. The true meaning has not yet been brought to light.

“What does it take?” asks Seagal. “What does it take to change the essence of a man?”

“Time,” the roughneck says. “I need time to change.”

Seagal gives him a knowing pat on the back. “I do too,” he says. “I do too.”

Ah, deep. Seagal is having a breakthrough moment. He’s realized he doesn’t want to work for the corrupt, scheming oil company. Because he wants to be good.  A transforming moment indeed, and all brought about by the hand-slap game.

When I first saw this scene, it made me think of the hilarious movie Caddyshack, when Judge Smails (Ted Knight, in his greatest performance ever) has a philosophical conversation with young Danny Noonan.

Judge Smails: “The most important decision you can make right now is what you stand for – goodness…or badness.”

Danny: “Now, I know I’ve made some mistakes in the past. I’m willing to make up for that. I want to be good!”

“Very good!… Are you my pal, Danny?”

“Yes, sir! I’m your pal!”

“Great! How about a Fresca?”

Moving right along, after Michael Caine’s thugs try to blow up Seagal’s shit, Segal is rescued by an Eskimo clan, and they quickly surmise that he has great spiritual powers, akin to the most powerful of Alaskan creatures, the polar bear. A long surreal sequence follows, in which Seagal wrestles a bear (fights it to a draw, lucky for the beast), is tempted by a sexy, naked Eskimo woman (he resists her, although I did see some smutty fires in his eyes), and rides the ice cold rapids in his trusty jacket, and emerges with his hair perfect.

Seagal invested a lot of footage in this very contrived portion of the movie, to make sure the viewer understands that Seagal not only has awesome spirituality, but is also an animal lover and has a great fondness for nature. The implication is clear: if anyone messes with what he holds dear, Seagal the Spirit Warrior will right the situation. Seriously, it’s almost as if he’s portraying himself as godlike. To show their gratitude for his divine presence, the Eskimos give him a super bulky, special edition Eskimo snow jacket that looks designed for sub-zero temps. It’s very cool, and I’m sure Seagal still has it, hanging in a closet, waiting for the day when a blizzard descends upon his $3.5 million home in the Arizona desert.

Once he learns Seagal is still alive, Michael Caine hires a more competent team of assassins to come to Alaska to finish the job. These hired mercenaries are the best in the business, because by this time, it has become clear that Seagal, is…well, let me quote the lead mercenary:

“You want to know who he is? Try this: delve down into the deepest bowels of your soul. Try to imagine the ultimate fucking nightmare. And that won’t come close to that son of a bitch when he gets pissed.”

On Deadly Ground is chock full of people oohing and ahhing over how bad Seagal is. It gets to the point where the standard kudos run out, and Seagal has to start stretching for new lines. The following line I think was inspired by Gary Busey, who is certainly among the most bizarre, eccentric actors ever:

“You could drop this guy off at the Arctic Circle wearing a pair of bikini underwear, without his toothbrush, and tomorrow afternoon he’s going to show up at your poolside with a million dollar smile and a fistful of pesos.”

I mean, it’s so bad, it’s good.

From here, On Deadly Ground becomes simply the story of the bad guys trying to kill Seagal before he can blow the oil rig. It’s not much of a story, because it’s very poorly done. The film making becomes sloppy, as if Segal got bored with directing. The editing is choppy, and Seagal’s fight scenes are jumpy and shift to slow motion for no reason I can fathom.  There’s a significant sequence on horseback up in the mountains, and it looks like summer – there’s not a hint of snow anywhere. But the scenes previous were in deep snow. What season is it, Steven? Pick one, please.

Then there’s Seagal’s secret stash of explosives in a shed high up in the mountains. He arrives on horseback, with the cute Eskimo girl (Joan Chen is Chinese, but looks close enough, I guess), who has inexplicably chosen to accompany him on his dangerous mission. Why Seagal would store a vast amount of C4 in a secret place is never explained. Maybe he had a premonition that one day a helicopter full of bad guys would hover over the shack, and then he could set off the explosives and blow up the helicopter.

The climax of On Deadly Ground plays out like a low budget rip off of a James Bond movie. Seagal infiltrates the oil platform, shoots a few of his detractors, and beats up a few more. When the worst of the bad guys catch up, Seagal kills them with no more struggle or screen time than the anonymous guys he previously blew away.

But the worst villain still needs to be dealt with. On cue, here comes Michael Caine, complete with droll British accent and expensive business suit. At this point, anyone still watching is waiting to see Seagal make the imperious oil executive suffer for his sins.

Michael Caine has had on odd film career. He appeared in many prestigious films during his 60 years as an actor (yes, 60 years), has been nominated for six Academy Awards, and won Best Supporting Actor twice (Hannah and her Sisters, 1986, The Cider House Rules, 1999). He’s also won a number of other awards, including a Golden Globe for Best Actor in Educating Rita, 1983. He was even knighted in 2000 by Queen Elizabeth II for his contribution to cinema.

How does a guy like Michael Caine end up in a Steven Seagal movie? By his own admission, Caine is just like anyone else; he needs money. So when the checking account gets low, he’s not above slumming for a payday. And when he goes slumming, any neighborhood is fair game. Caine has had numerous roles in films that were commercial and critical flops. He summed up his thoughts best when commenting on his role in Jaws: The Revenge:

“I have never seen the film, but by all accounts it was terrible. However, I have seen the house that it built, and it is terrific.”

When Seagal, wearing his fourth or fifth tasseled jacket of the movie, confronts Caine, he launches into a preachy lecture:

“You know, I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. What does one say to a man with no conscience? I’d like to tell you about the millions of people that you made suffer, but I’d be a total idiot to think that you’d care. You’re a piece of shit, Michael. Scum of the earth.”

Caine tries to walk away, but Segal lassos him around the ankle with a cable that happened to be handy, and dangles him 50 feet over an oil pit.

“Go ahead, shoot me!” Caine screams. “Go on, shoot me, you fucking coward! You haven’t got the fucking guts!”

“I wouldn’t dirty my bullets,” Seagal replies.

“You macho asshole, go ahead, shoot!”

I watched this scene 4 or 5 times, mesmerized by Caine’s pleas. I firmly believe that, at this point, Caine was no longer acting -he just wanted his character to die quickly so he could pack up his stuff, collect his paycheck, and go drink gin & tonics until he forgot he ever appeared in this unfortunate farce.

But, Seagal doesn’t shoot him; instead, he shoots the cable and Caine goes plummeting into the oil. But this wouldn’t necessarily kill him; Caine could have swam through it and climbed onto a steel girder only a few feet away. Sure, his suit would be ruined, but he’d still be plenty alive.

There’s only once answer to this mystery: Seagal didn’t kill him so he could keep alive the potential for a sequel! Now, how’s that for revenge?

If the movie ended here, On Deadly Ground may have been simply considered a foolish misstep, a weak movie that would surely be lampooned, but maybe not so harshly. But Seagal wasn’t through yet. In fact, he was saving the best moment for last.

After Seagal blows the oil rig into a raging inferno, likely killing dozens of innocent workers and spilling oil into the sea, he narrowly escapes, and the next scene shows him in an auditorium speaking to hundreds of Native Americans about the evils of big oil, and the need to save our planet. Seagal is wearing his most elaborate coat yet, and addresses the audience as his “brothers and sisters.” He rambles on for a few minutes, which is probably the maximum his co-producers would stand for.

The critics had a field day with this. Seagal was ripped for using his movie to blatantly espouse his political views. There was nothing subtle about his approach – a formal speech at the end of the film. He was called egotistical, vain, self-indulgent, hypocritical, narcissistic, and some less polite things.

I’m sure Seagal hoped On Deadly Ground would be his second blockbuster, and he’d get the last laugh. No such luck; On Deadly Ground cost $50 million to make, and the domestic box office returns were only $38.5 million.

If Seagal had aspirations for awards, they soon came, but not in the form of Oscars. On Deadly Ground was nominated for six Razzies: Worst Actor, Worst Director, Worst Picture, Worst Screenplay, Worst Original Song, and Worst Actress (poor Joan Chen, who only had a few lines, couldn’t avoid the fallout).

Seagal walked away with a Worst Director trophy, although I’m unsure if he actually attended the Razzie awards ceremony, which occurs every year the day before the Oscars. I assume as a multiple nominee, he received a priority invitation. This set a reliable precedent, as Seagal would receive more Razzie nominations over the next decade, before his films went straight to DVD and no longer qualified.

7. Under Siege 2: Dark Territory was Seagal’s follow up to On Deadly Ground. He was contractually bound to make this film, but he didn’t want to and only did so out of legal obligation. I’m not sure what kind of movie he would have made if left to his own inclinations; likely one that would allow him to keep his pony tail, which he could not for Under Siege 2.

Sans pony tail, and reportedly grumpy on the set, one might expect another disaster from Seagal. But Under Siege 2 was not a bad movie; Seagal’s performance was actually very good, in both his acting and martial arts sequences.

In general, Under Siege 2 is pretty fun to watch. Oddly, it’s a decidedly smaller, less impressive movie than Under Siege (not the typical goal for a sequel), but it had a much higher production budget ($60 mil vs. $35 mil). Not sure where the money went, but regardless, Under Siege 2 was a modest box office success, and represented a decent recovery from On Deadly Ground.

As an action thriller, Under Siege 2 succeeds despite some flagrant implausibilities and related silliness. The killer satellite threatening the world looks cartoonlike, as do the action sequences toward the end of the film, which are totally unbelievable. But if we couldn’t ignore these things, we probably wouldn’t be watching the movie in the first place, would we?

Also silly is the second portion of the title: Dark Territory. What does this mean? Is it just a generic reference to something ominous? Or, is there a racial connotation involved? No, we eventually learn, “dark territory” simply means the train eventually will pass through an area with no radio reception, which means the CIA/military will lose contact with it. My guess is one of the producers thought it sounded really cool, and insisted it be included, even if it was relatively meaningless.

The plot of Under Siege 2 is one that action thriller movie fans have become familiar with: A nefarious and brilliant villain has taken control of a train (substitute boat, plane, bus, high-rise building, school, etc.) and is threatening to annihilate the world (as well as the hostages) if his demands aren’t met.

The evil genius is played by Eric Bogosian, who seems to take a perverse, nerdy delight in his portrayal of an ex-CIA programmer with a score to settle. As villains go, he’s too dweeby to be very menacing, so the writers surrounded him with a bunch of henchmen who are total dicks. Care to guess what their future holds in store? No need, I’ll tell you: Seagal shoots them, stabs them, snaps their necks, throws them from the train, and in one cool scene he lights of few of them on fire.

Side note on Eric Bogosian: here’s another case of an otherwise accomplished actor playing the villain in a Seagal movie. Bogosian not only has a successful career in solo theatre performances, he is also the author of six produced plays, one which was nominated for a Pulitzer Prize. In addition, he’s a Guggenheim fellow and the recipient of two fellowships from the National Endowment for the Arts. But, hey, he’s like anyone else, including Michael Caine–he needs money. And Seagal movies, despite their artistic limitations, probably pay pretty well.

8. Seagal’s next flick was 1996’s Executive Decision, and I was deeply disturbed by this movie for two reasons:

A. Seagal does not star in this film.

B. He dies after only 41 minutes!!

I think Seagal may have been at a crossroad in his life, soul searching, contemplating his true purpose. Perhaps drugs were involved, perhaps not, but somehow, his meditations resulted in a decision to play a supporting role. Although Seagal did a good job with the small part as leader of a commando squad, this film was an aberration, and does not warrant discussion.

9. The Glimmer Man, 1996

The Glimmer Man, however, does warrant discussion, and then some!

I love this movie, and if there’s any such thing as an Oscar for comeback actor of the year, Seagal should have won it. Seagal’s performance is funny (intentionally), gritty, charismatic, and eccentric. It’s as if he took all the good things he’d done since Above the Law, and factored in all the embarrassing lessons from On Deadly Ground, and figured out how to make a movie that would entertain the hell out of his fans.

Unfortunately, it seems his fan base must have been shrinking, because The Glimmer Man only brought in domestic receipts of $20 million against a $45 million budget. Too bad more people didn’t see it, because The Glimmer Man is an underrated and under-appreciated classic.

Fashion alert: The pony tail is back, and Seagal displays a number of new, loud jackets. Also, he wears a necklace of Tibetan prayer beads throughout the movie.

Plot-wise, the movie starts with the investigation of a religious serial killer, but it soon becomes apparent to Los Angeles cop Jack Cole (Seagal) that the last two murders are those of a professional hitter. But why? To silence those who have found out that a crime boss has teamed up with a corrupt US senator (who happens to be Seagal’s ex-CIA boss) to sell chemical weapons to Russian terrorists.

This plot could have easily become a tangled mess, but director Jack Gray holds it all together quite nicely. He keeps the pace quick and each scene taut; there is not a single slow or boring moment. This is due in part to the interplay between Seagal and his cop partner, comedian Keenan Ivory Wayans. I think Seagal saw teaming up with a professional comic as a challenge and an opportunity. This was Seagal’s chance to prove that he, the ass kicking martial artists, could be as funny as anyone.  I draw this conclusion because, if we’ve learned anything, it’s that the Seagal ego will not admit that anybody can do anything better than he can.

Now, here’s the amazing part: Seagal is funny as hell! I’m serious, he cracked me up. The Glimmer Man is full of wise cracking, sarcastic cops, and Seagal fits right in. For every funny line Wayans has, Seagal has one to match. Here’s an example: Wayan’s home has just been burned down by bad guys, and Seagal walks up as a despondent Wayans is combing through the wreckage. Seagal spots a box of melted CDs, and says, “Hey, could I take those CDs? It looks like maybe I could use them.” Wayans ignores the remark and begins talking about a lead in the case. Seagal replies, “Could I ask you something? Did you actually live in this shitbox?”

Seagal’s comic delivery is flawless; the irreverent banter seems to come naturally to him.  The grim storyline is underpinned with casual, macho humor, and it’s right in Seagal’s wheelhouse. His acting chops really seem to have blossomed.

The best scene, and also the funniest, occurs at Lento’s Italian restaurant, where Seagal goes to chat with the evil senator, a gentleman with a Southern drawl played by Brian Cox. I’d never heard of Brian Cox, but when I researched him I was not surprised to learn that he’s a highly awarded character actor who gained recognition for his portrayal of King Lear with the Royal Shakespeare Company. Yet another acclaimed Thespian, out there working for a living, collecting a paycheck thanks to Seagal.

Back to the restaurant. Seagal’s ex-wife had just been murdered, and he suspects Cox knows who did it, so he’s a little impatient when he arrives at the place. He approaches the maître d’, who’s talking on the phone. Seagal starts ringing the bell on the counter, and the man says, “Hey, asshole, can’t you see I’m busy?” Uh, bad timing, dude. Seagal drops him with a right to the chin, and proceeds into the ritzy joint, but he’s intercepted by the senator’s security guard.  “Why don’t you and I take your little sensitive pony tail and your little sissy beads and get out of here?” the man says. The expression on Segal’s face is priceless, before he hits the man in the throat and sends him through a window.

Thus begins the greatest restaurant brawl in Hollywood history. Seagal destroys the dining room, kicking guys through partitions, slamming them into wine racks, thumping their heads into steel posts. The fighting choreography is excellent, but what truly makes this scene legendary is Seagal’s remarks as he’s leaving. He looks at Brian Cox and says, “Do you validate parking?” Then, as he walks by the front counter (where the maître d’ is still unconscious), the phone rings. Seagal hesitates a moment before picking it up.

“Hello, Lento’s. No, no, no, that won’t work. We’re closed for renovation.  I’d say…” he pauses to look over the damage. “Two months. Yeah. Thanks.”

Classic. This scene alone is worth owning a copy of the movie.

Also interesting in The Glimmer Man is Seagal partnering with a black actor. The pairing of a white actor with a black counterpart in action movies was a trend that began with 1982’s 48 Hours, staring Nick Nolte and Eddie Murphy.  Next came the TV series Miami Vice (1984-1990), with Don Johnson and Philip Michael Thomas. When the Lethal Weapon flicks (Mel Gibson, Danny Glover) became huge hits with almost $1 billion in domestic box office over 4 movies, Hollywood producers took notice, and tried to recapture the magic in more films.

In 1991 Bruce Willis teamed up with Damon Wayans in The Last Boy Scout, to the tune of $60 domestic box office. Brad Pitt and Morgan Freeman scored big time in 1995’s Seven, which reached $100 mil domestic and a staggering $327 million in global receipts.

No doubt there were high hopes for Seagal and Keenan Wayans in The Glimmer Man. It’s unfortunate this badass movie never quite caught on with the public. Ironically, one of Seagal’s best movies was one of his least successful.   

10. I wish I could say Seagal followed up The Glimmer Man with something equally good, but that didn’t happen. Fire down Below was only a fair movie; at times it was entertaining, but overall it was mildly disappointing. It definitely suffered from the hokey incongruities that have come to define Seagal’s lesser films.

Seagal plays an agent for the EPA, which is enough to sound warning bells. Could this be a revisit to the themes of On Deadly Ground? The answer is yes, but Seagal takes it easy this time, so the whole Save the Planet message is not that big of a deal. The bigger problem has to do with Seagal, being, well, Seagal.

He’s assigned to go undercover to a small, backwater town in Kentucky to investigate toxic dumping. Try to imagine Seagal playing a hick. Wait, don’t bother, because Seagal doesn’t bother playing the part. He arrives, pony tail in place, and wearing a black leather jacket inlayed with pink and lime green patterns. You can almost hear the conversation between Seagal and director Felix Enriquez Alcala:

“Steve, you think that jacket might be a bit much?”

“What? Do you how much it cost me?”

“Yeah, but you’re supposed to be undercover in a poor area of Kentucky.”

“So? This coat is badass and I’m wearing it. You know why? Because I can. Screw the public if they don’t get it.”

Needless to say, among the poor country folk, Seagal sticks out like a chicken at a dog show. So much for undercover. Except for one scene where he wears a tasseled rawhide coat (I think it was a leftover from On Deadly Ground), Segal is dressed in black the entire movie. What makes this weird is that he’s the only character who wears black. I found this increasingly odd as I watched Fire Down Below; every actor is dressed in earth tones, except for Seagal. I’m not sure why this is, but it certainly doesn’t help him blend with the locals.

Around the middle of the movie, Seagal must have conceded to himself that the undercover concept was stupid, because that would mean he couldn’t just be himself, which is what he does best. So, he comes clean and admits he’s with the Feds. He does this in a great scene where he kicks ass on the local police force when they try to arrest him. Holding a gun in the mouth of a deputy, he tells the sheriff how it is:

“Listen, why don’t we cut the shit? You know who I am, and I can arrest you just as easily as you can arrest me, and you know it. So, why don’t you get back in your car with your little department and take off. Let’s face it, I don’t believe in your authority.”

“Maybe you’ll believe a gun up your butt. Cuff him.”

Four deputies come at Seagal, and in short order he pounds them into submission, and continues:

“Now, how you want to do this? You want to play this game all the way? I’ll have three hundred agents come into this this little hick town and crawl up every orifice you got. When it’s over you can go to your favorite proctologist and get a nice soothing ointment and rub it on the hole that hurts most. How do you want it?”

All the while the deputies are groaning in pain, the man with the gun in his mouth is gasping, and the townspeople are gathered and watching in awe. As a movie goer, I’m thinking, even if the rest of the movie is the shits, this scene is worth the price of admission.

The remainder of the film plays out very predictably. In nearly every other scene, a group of tough dudes confront Seagal (usually it’s four – that seems to be the default number), and when it’s over, they’re moaning and muttering things like, “I’ve never been hit so hard.”

There is one cheesy scene around the middle of the film where Seagal attends an outdoor party for the townsfolk. A band is playing, but one of the guitar players is swilling Jim Beam and he’s falling off his chair. Have no fear, Steven is here, to play guitar and save the day. Seagal plays a song, an impish grin on his face, as if he’s a little embarrassed by the sheer number of things he does so well. Actually though, he is a pretty good musician, so let’s give credit where credit is due.

Two notable actors, the great Harry Dean Stanton, and Kris Kristofferson, costar in Fire Down Below, and neither performance is inspiring. Kristofferson is especially mechanical in his role as the main villain – he’s pretty much just dialing it in. Even when he’s shot and knows he’ll be going to prison to meet Seagal’s buddy “Tyrone”, his cocky smirk is still glued to his face.

Overall, Fire Down Below is a film that’s vaguely unsatisfying, kind of like eating lukewarm food. Except for a couple scenes, it never really heats up.

Critics were more harsh; Fire Down Below earned 4 Razzie nominations: Worst Picture, Worst Actor, Worst Screen Couple (I forgot to mention, Seagal has a pretty lame love affair with a local woman who wears cheap dresses, and for reasons beyond me, chooses hiking boots for footwear), and Worst Original Song. This last nomination may have been particularly painful, because, yes, Seagal wrote the song.

Fire Down Below was also a box office failure. It earned $16 million domestic against a $60 million production budget.

Seagal followed up Fire Down Below with two films that marked a decided turn in his career (and we’re not talking onward and upward here). My Giant and The Patriot were both ridiculous pieces of crap, for different reasons. Seagal places only a small role in My Giant, and that’s the good news, because this film is a sappy, boring, annoying Billy Crystal whine fest. Seagal plays himself in this movie, which basically explains why he couldn’t resist the part.

No such excuse for The Patriot. To best describe this reeking pile of cow dung, please allow me to quote an outraged Judge Smails in Caddyshack:

The Patriot “S, s,s, s, s, s, SUCKS!”

The movie was so bad that at the last minute the producers conceded that it would not be released to theaters. Instead it went straight to DVD, which meant that much of the $16 million invested in the production would be lost.

I will not grace My Giant and The Patriot with further comment, other than to urge anyone who cares to ignore these movies; forget they ever existed, forget that Seagal, despite all the questionable things he’s done, plumbed to depths this great. 

11. Just when most people figured Seagal would wither into obscurity, he surprised the cinematic world by making a huge comeback with Exit Wounds. The film grossed $80 million, almost as much as Under Siege.

I have mixed feelings about Exit Wounds. Seagal, while staring in the film, shares screen time with many, including rap star DMX (real name Earl Simmons) and Tom Arnold. At age 49, Seagal looks anything but chiseled; his face is doughy, his shoulders narrow (where are his jackets?) and he has a bit of a pot belly. There is a well done shootout early in the film, but the fight scenes overall are poorly executed. Seagal is simply not convincing when going up against bad boys half his age or massive black thugs who look like NFL players.

The plot of Exit Wounds is retarded drivel about corrupt cops sick of seeing gangsters get all the money, so the cops get in on the action. This story line has been rehashed in numerous movies (including a later Seagal flick, Urban Justice ) and in Exit Wounds it comes off as tired, overdone, stupid, and boring. There’s plenty of convenient illogic woven into the story, like this nugget: A huge cache of heroin is stolen from a police evidence room by masked men who kill a couple cops during the heist. There is little or no reaction by the Detroit PD to this event, as if it were just another street robbery. This nonsense was perhaps foreshadowed by an earlier scene where Seagal shoots his pistol at some bad guys in a helicopter, which blows up as if it hit by an anti-aircraft rocket.

And then there’s this brilliant plot twist – in order to safely transport the heroin, the bad guys devise a way to chemically soak T-shirts, which makes the heroin undetectable, but also easy to extract. I don’t why they included this scene in the movie; it’s lame, unbelievable, and unnecessary.

But what really makes Exit Wounds a disappointment is Seagal, sans pony tail, sans his Eastern religion/spiritual shtick, and without his jackets. I mean, talk about sucking the life out of a guy. No doubt this was the result of producer Joel Silver, the prick, ordering Seagal to play a character instead of just playing himself.

You see, Seagal had always been the producer or co-producer of his movies. But after shitting the bed with My Giant and The Patriot, no studio would touch him, so he was forced to work for producer Joel Silver, who has an impressive track record of action films, including 48 Hrs., Commando, and all the Lethal Weapon,  Die Hard, and Matrix movies.

So Silver is no small time player, and he apparently told Seagal to just play the damn part and leave out all the weird shit that makes him so endearing. Painful as I’m sure this was, at this point in his career Seagal probably had no better options. The result is a boring Seagal performance, which didn’t really hurt the movie’s box office performance, because most people came to see Exit Wounds for multiple Grammy nominated rapper, DMX, a performer with a massive fan base.

12. Many people consider Exit Wounds Seagal’s last decent movie. Certainly it was his last respectable box office effort; his next two films, Ticker and Half Past Dead, were low budget box office duds, and were his final films to play in theatres. But this did not mark the end of Segal’s career – far from it. Beginning in 2003, he’s made 27 (and counting) direct to video (DTV) movies. No doubt, these efforts, beginning with The Foreigner, have lower budgets and lesser production values. But that doesn’t mean they are all bad movies. Actually, many of them are great fun, with well filmed martial arts scenes, cool blood spattered shoot outs, and bad guys getting what they deserve, Seagal style. And the best thing is, these DVDs are raw Seagal, with no pretense of big studio influence.

So, if in between busting heads and killing douchebags, Seagal dons a robe and hangs out with Buddhist monks somewhere in Southeast Asia, then so be it (Belly of the Beast – highly recommended).

Or, if he’s in the mood for taking on gangstas in Compton whose language consists primarily of “bitch” and “motherfucker”, then bring it on (Urban Justice – highly recommended).

Then again, Seagal considers himself a man of tremendous knowledge, so why not play an esteemed professor of Chinese archaeology from Yale? Watch the “university’s most distinguished academician” single handedly  annihilate the Chinese syndicate in Out for a Kill – highly recommended.

We all know Seagal loves Asian culture, so it’s only natural he would take issue with some total dicks from the Yakuza, the Japanese Mafia. Check out the stylish carnage in Into the Sun – highly recommended.

I haven’t yet watched all Seagal’s DVT releases, but I believe the above four are his best. I must admit that some of his others are laughably bad, and I would be remiss to not mention a few that stand out:

Out of Reach (2004) is a dumb and bad movie for many reasons, but the one thing that really offended me was the use of voice dubbing. In many of the scenes, Seagal is speaking, but it’s not his voice. I mean, Steven, is it too much to record your own speaking parts?

Attack Force (2006) is lame and ridiculous and although I own a copy, I’ve never made it past the halfway point.

Kill Switch (2008) is plagued by rampant silliness. The plot is a tired serial killer(s) rehash. Seagal speaks in a hokey southern accent (“Lord have mercy”) for most of the movie, except when he forgets and reverts back to his normal voice. The fight scenes in this movie are the most absurd I’ve ever seen. Seagal repeatedly beats the crap out of the two main bad guys, but is rarely seen throwing a punch. Instead, all we get is shots of his adversaries getting punched in the face, over and over, and getting flung, over and over, against walls and into furniture. But they keep fighting back, and never are bloody or seem hurt. Steven, if you punch a man in the face ten times and don’t draw blood, I must assume you punch like a little girl. It’s very disappointing.

At the end of Kill Switch, Seagal’s wife, a cute brunette who he’s mostly ignored during the film, is killed by one of the bad guys. So, lord have mercy, Seagal catches the bad guy and kicks his butt big time before slitting his throat. Standard stuff. At this point, I expected the movie to end with Segal in mourning, and perhaps contemplating the evil world in which he operates.

But no, this doesn’t happen. In one of the weirdest movie moments I’ve ever witnessed, the final scene in Kill Switch shows Seagal arriving at a quaint house, and giving gifts to some children, and then hugging a hot blonde who I thought was maybe his sister. Like it was a family reunion, like maybe after all the ugliness Seagal had just lived through, he was taking a break to visit his loved ones, and to try and deal with the death of his wife.

So what happens next? The blonde crooks her finger, and Seagal follows her to a bedroom, where she pulls her top down. Seagal looks quite pleased by this development and embraces her as the movie ends.

Um, Steven, what about your wife, who was brutally murdered the scene before? Apparently her murder was no big deal because you had a young girlfriend on the side. Or, I suppose the babe could have just been an acquaintance, patiently waiting for the right time to bless our hero with her sexual charms. Either way, it’s stupid and jarring and very disconnected from the storyline.

Unfortunately, these types of problems are common in Seagal’s DVT films, but the true action movie fan should easily overlook this type of stuff. Or, just laugh at it. Either way, Seagal is always entertaining.

Steven, you’re beautiful, man – please never change (I know you couldn’t if you tried!).