There are few things that quicken the pulse of a red-blooded, red meat munching, testosterone fuelled, pussy-pounding ultra male more than a new Jean Claude Van Damme movie appearing on the V+ hard drive.
The plot:
The movie starts with a gaggle of twats sitting at a bar, discussing the imminent arrival of 'the hardest man they've ever met.'
Who could it be?
Yes, it's Long Cord Man Slamme.
See, Long Cord is a Special Forces type, eager for some fighting, so he's headed into this country, a none-specific Eastern Communist kind of place with Islamic overtones - think Chechnya, but with less of a sense of humour.
As it happens, the very day after he appears, the local militia stage an uprising and, before you know it, Man Slamme, the country's ex-president, and a bunch of assorted perishables are holed up in the US Embassy, awaiting rescue by either the US forces, or the army still loyal to the president.
Will they be able to withstand the militia's onslaught?
And, crucially, will they be able to understand a single word Man Slamme is saying?
It's utter nonsense. Of course it is, but you know that going in.
The plot is derisory.
The acting atrocious.
The script laughably poor.
Even the lip-synching is about as precise as a really substandard edition of Swedish Erotica, but who gives a fuck?
It's got Long Cord Man Slamme in it, and that's all anybody cares about.
He may be knocking on in years, but he is still a glorious sight in full flow. Sure, he can't pirouette with the same frequency as before, but he's still got some chops: this motherfucker moves like a panther on occasion.
With marks deducted for the lack of the requisite buttock shot - age related again, I suspect, but I reckon he'd still look joyous with a soft filter and a decent application of boy-oils - this is certainly latter period Man Slamme, but that don't make it wrong.
A terrible film, really.
I thoroughly enjoyed it.
4 out of 5
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