#9 — Commando
This is part of an illustrated countdown of my 49 1/2 most essential action movies. I do a drawing and talk about the movie, in case you missed the previous 41 entries. Last week I talked about a soldier that didn’t draw first blood, it wasn’t his war, they asked him he didn’t ask them, but then those maggots at the airport were protestin’ him, spittin’ on him and callin’ him “baby killer” and all kinds of vile crap. And who were they to protest him, unless they’d been him and been there, and know what the hell they’re yellin’ about!? (The movie is First Blood).
A group of scientists huddle around a table covered in explosive charts, ammunition graphs, and complex mathematical equations for muscle torque. They are trying to engineer to the definitive American action movie of the 80s. Not the BEST action movie. The MOST action movie. “We need a man that looks like my son’s He-Man toys” Another scientist chimes in “Right, but he should also be able to deliver iconic one-liners with the confidence of a late night tv host” They continue for hours, hashing out the most elemental attributes of Lizard Brain Cinema in a cloud of gunpowder and napalm scented candles. “He should be able to commandeer any vehicle, but also modify it with his bare hands. He should be able to jump out of a moving plane if he wants to. He should be strong enough to carry entire trees, and throw steam pipes through a human torso. He should also love his daughter so much that he’s willing and able to kill a small army to save her” This ballistic brain trust, having exhausted all measures for constructing their marvel, were left with one question. “What do we call this guy?” After a long pause, the chief scientist speaks from a darkened corner. “His name……..is JOHN MATRIX” And this is the story of how one of my favorite action movies was born.
“You’re a funny guy Sully, I like you. That’s why I’m going to kill you last.”
Commando is technically the weakest film of the remaining ten in this countdown by any traditional measure, but it’s also one of the most entertaining and watchable. And it IS essential. It’s part of the cinematic food pyramid, and at some point in human history I’m glad we decided there needed to be a one-man-army feature with a title so generic that it HAD to be the definitive version by which all others would be measured. First Blood: Part II wants this title, but it’s straddled between the outlandish desires of its future and the serious minded contemplations of its past.
Commando has no baggage to sort out, no war-torn musings on its mind, nothing to say about vigilante justice or fatherhood, or honor, or vengeance — just the necessary revelry in how awesome it is to watch a large Austrian man throw entire phone booths containing bad guys and make jokes about nap time with dead bodies.
There’s elements to this particular kind of movie that have sustained multiple generations of sketch comedy, but it hasn’t ruined the experience. Where would we be without the super soldier that retired to a remote cabin, only to get called back for one last job? How could I live without the ultimate Gearing Up montage? If Arnold DIDN’T throw that pipe through Bennett’s torso and then tell him to “let off some steam”, what would become of me? I’d be lost and rudderless, for sure.
In order to sell this kind of buffoonery, you need players that can properly entertain and elevate the material into the high art that it is. Arnold is a Halley’s Comet of action superstardom, but Bill Duke, David Patrick Kelly, and Vernon Wells are some of the best in the business at supporting roles with an enormous amount of gravity. The Warriors. Predator. The Road Warrior. They all have their own fascinating screen presence, and are able to utilize it here within the same movie. It’s a blast.
“I eat Green Berets for breakfast. And right now, I’m very hungry!”
Rae Dawn Chong plays an airline stewardess that gets dragged into John’s rescue mission and she represents the audience POV, commentating on the absurdity of it all, but willingly going along with it. I like this character more than I used to, she’s sort of the bridge between the comedy and the action. But there’s also a fun odd couple chemistry between them as she occasionally partakes in the mayhem she commentates. I guess she doesn’t have much choice. I sometimes wonder what the rest of her day was gonna look like if she hadn’t run into John. The movie ends with them flying off with the plane they stole, which is funny on a couple levels — but also shows that she’s fully on board with the Matrix way of life now.
One of Commando’s best attributes is the juxtaposition of cartoon silliness with graphic violence. It gets a little Warner Brothers. If you watched the tool shed scene as a kid you probably made a Rick Flair WOOO face, and if you watch it as as adult, you probably give a Jeremiah Johnsonian approving nod. Same for the rocket launcher, the steam pipe, Arnold trimming the rose bushes with an M60 (what a beautiful sight), or a handful of other memorable moments. What I’m saying is it’s integral to the film that John Matrix scalp a man by tossing a saw blade at his head like a frisbee. You’re not gonna get that on an episode The A-Team or MacGyver.
“Please don’t wake my friend. He’s dead tired.”
Look, I know you think this is a dumb movie and maybe it makes you chuckle in satisfaction at your vast knowledge of Criterion indie bullshit like “Green is the Warmest Yellow” or whatever you’re into, but Commando is legit. For better or worse, it’s our culture. Did you know that the Prime Minister of Poland gifted Barak Obama with a signed copy of The Witcher 2 when he visited them? Well, he did. And while I have my doubts that he played it, I guarantee you that if our President (whoever the next decent one is) gave signed copies of Commando to world leaders instead of a stupid nickname, we would be making trade deals left and right and growing green new jobs out of fresh soil like a Scotts Lawn commercial. It says everything about us. We like muscles, jokes, Freddie Mercury, and getting into off-the-books military scraps in Val Verde.
Perhaps it’s tonal whiplash that I would follow up a discussion of the somber First Blood with a movie doing a touchdown dance in its face, but you need to have a little fun. In yoga they call this “finding your center”. In action cinema they say “Let’s party”, which is the tagline for the movie. It ends with General Kirby asking John to please, please come in for another shift at work and John says “no chance”. Then he turns his back and walks to his plane while Power Station’s “We Fight For Love” plays him out. That’s how we do it in America.
