“Ladies and gentlemen…? Ladies and gentlemen: Due to the Nakatomi Corporation’s legacy of greed around the globe, they’re about to be taught a lesson in the real use of power. You will be witnesses.”
It’s a $1,000,000 question, dividing movie fans every year: Does Die Hard really “count” as an honest-to-goodness “Christmas movie?”
Frankly, there are good arguments on both sides. On the one hand: “Of course it does! It’s set around Christmastime, there’s Christmas music playing on a regular basis, it revolves around a Christmas party, we hear jingle bell sound effects, and who can forget:
On the other hand: “Uh…no, not really. All the ‘Christmas’ stuff is incidental—would the movie’s storyline really be any different if it were, say, a Halloween party?”
Where do I stand? Well, while I can see both sides, my gut goes with: “Y’know, all the Christmas stuff is part of the movie’s charm.” Plus, there’s the central theme of the importance of love and family—and the reconciliation between husband and wife…one of the greatest Christmas presents of all.
Still, to ease the distress of the purists in this debate, I’m doing Die Hard this week—and for Christmas week, I’ll tackle a film universally acknowledged as a “true” Christmas movie. Stay tuned!
In the meantime…
WHY IT’S A CONSERVATIVE FILM:
The ‘80s and early ‘90s saw a surge in a special kind of action film—the super-fun, wild-and-crazy flicks without any apparent depth. These films are just super-brawny tough guys taking on clear-cut villains, and they’re always ready with a quotable line or two: “I’m all outta bubblegum,” for example. These were the days of Arnold Schwarzenegger, Sylvester Stallone, Mel Gibson, Kurt Russell, and eventually Jean-Claude Van Damme and Steven Segal. And in the world of film studies, these wild and crazy action flicks have a name, courtesy of one Susan Jeffords: “hard body”—for obvious reasons.
Jeffords posited that the whole thematic point of this action trend was a cultural reflection of the Reagan revolution.“Peace Through Strength,” for example, is demonstrated in the hero making himself tough and strong enough that most would-be enemies wouldn’t dare try and cross him, and if someone ever does, he knows for a fact he is ready for them.
There’s also the general idea of rugged individualism—the lone wolf hero standing tall against the evil forces. It’s the great Bill Whittle’s formula (“A man alone, with a gun,” etc.) distilled to its bare essence. “Hard body” action films embrace it and play it up for all its worth—with barely any moral qualms about doing what’s necessary.
To be sure, the enemies in these movies are often crooked businessmen or conspiracies in the top brass of our intelligence agencies. But not always. Many of them have the hero fighting third-world dictators or terrorists…
Or thieves posing as terrorists.
But I’m getting ahead of myself.
Restoring Manhood:
Another big theme Jeffords and Co. identify in “hard body” flicks is male empowerment. The ‘70s saw the rise of action films for black guys and women in general—both in the “exploitation” corner of the movie industry. We’ve already talked about Blaxploitation, of course, when we looked at Shaft for this series. In the same decade, we also saw the advent of female-centric action flicks. Mind you, these being exploitation films, many of the latter were just plain stupid, and quite a few of them played up the sex appeal of the heroines. Still, Pam Grier, in particular, paved the way for Sigourney Weaver and Linda Hamilton, all the way to Uma Thurman, Angelina Jolie, Scarlett Johansson, and Charlize Theron.
Then came the 80’s when white guys said, “Hey, when’s our turn?” Or at least, so the theorists posit. Thus, they say, the grand tradition of exploitation cinema was channeled for “white guy” sensibilities.
But it’s not quite that simple. Films of the “hard body” category could be and many times were interracial—48 Hours and the Lethal Weapon franchise come to mind. And, of course, the Beverly Hills Cop trilogy (soon getting a fourth one, by the way!). Still, one could make the case for male empowerment here.
In Die Hard, NYPD cop John McClane is facing no little anxiety about his worth as the man of the house. His wife Holly’s career with the Nakatomi Corporation has taken her to L.A.—and living in different cities has put a strain on their relationship.
Holly is even using her maiden name in the records—apparently because of Japanese company policy or something. And her generous offer to him, when he visits for Christmas, is to let him use…the guest room of her house. Not, y’know, the master bedroom with her.
This all just feeds John’s angst even more. He has to find a way to prove his worth as a man—to himself and Holly.
Fortuitously, opportunity knocks—in the weirdest way.
Thieves Posing As Communists:
It’s the same old story since Marx and Engels: Charming con men spouting “revolutionary” rhetoric in public when, in reality, they’re just after picking the pockets of anyone they can swindle.
Such is Hans Gruber and Co., as evidenced in the quote above. His B.S. demands about “revolutionary brothers and sisters” are also worth noting: In reality, he may once have been a member of a radical organization, but he’s long left it for high-reward thievery.
In other words, this Red’s decided to come clean. He’s a thief, and he embraces it. Being an “idealist” Communist revolutionary is just a cover—and he’s smart enough to admit it to himself.
Noble Capitalists:
Joe Takagi, high-ranking exec of the Nakatomi corporation, is one of the first victims of Hans Gruber’s evil plan. And from what we see of him, we like him—he’s charismatic, professional, noble, and, in his own way, brave. He doesn’t give in to Hans’s demands, telling him, “You’ll just have to kill me.”
Likable, honorable, courageous, and a man of big business. Despite all the Leftist analysis claiming that the film is supposed to convey anxieties about Japanese “incursions” into American capitalist turf or something, the truth is that Takagi’s something of a hero, refusing to give Hans any kind of shortcut. He’s a man to be admired.
And in case that point wasn’t clear enough, we see Hans reading Takagi’s history notes, which tell us that the man spent time in one of the WWII internment camps only to later rise up the ranks of education and business, to make something of his life.
Further, during the confrontation between Gruber and Takagi, the subject briefly turns to the Nakatomi project in Indonesia. Takagi insists that the corporation intends to develop the region, “not exploit it.” Hans notes he believes him—he read the article in Forbes.
As for Ellis, the smooth-talking, slimy-acting negotiator: Though he does give Hans the real identity of McClane, he’s smart enough not to give up Holly, insisting instead that he’s the guy who invited John to the party.
The Dark Side Of The Press:
Alas, Richard Thornburg, local news station reporter, isn’t so smart. In fact, in his eagerness to break any story he can, he’s directly responsible for exposing Holly’s identity and putting her in mortal danger. He even forces himself into Holly’s house to get the kids on T.V.
Amid all the glorification of the press in movies lately, it’s always rewarding to see reminders of just how crummy they can be at their worst. There are good guys, and there are bad guys. For every Lois Lane, there’s at least five or six Richard Thornburgs (and frankly, that’s being generous, especially nowadays).
Reconciling The Family:
Lest people think Conservatives just want women to stay in the kitchen, John and Holly’s reconciliation does not involve her giving up her career with the Nakatomi Corporation (as she seems to fear in their verbal clash early on). Again, Takagi (May He Rest In Peace) was a good guy, and the movie clearly has nothing against the company.
Here’s an instance in which the sequel helps clarify things a bit: in Die Hard 2: Die Harder, Holly is still with the Nakatomi Corporation, and John has transferred to the LAPD. The two are as deeply in love as ever in that film. (Yes, the third movie has them estranged again, and it just goes downhill from there. That’s all long in the future, though. Bear with me.)
But even in the first film, nothing causes us to frown at Holly being a strong woman. We’re meant to admire her as she consistently stands up to Hans, successfully negotiating with him. She’s a worthy gal for John—she’s his equal. For all the strain between them, we like her.
And, of course, she punches out Thornburg for good measure. Cue the applause from the audience.
(All this, of course, makes everything that happens between them after Die Hard 2 all the more difficult to accept. Maybe that’s why she’s always off-screen after that—to cover up how unbelievable it is).
For Bonus Points:
Once again, the whole Leftist mindset that “Conservatives are racists!” is proven to be nonsense. The two characters who prove the most helpful to McClane—limo driver Argyle and disenchanted police sergeant Al Powell—are both black. And the latter has the honor of dispatching the final bad guy in the film.
And the best part? Neither of them dies.
Hans makes sure to mock and deride McClane for his “cowboy” mentality, even dropping the oh-so-classic “You Americans” spiel. He scoffs at the John Wayne style of heroism but, of course, McClane proves just how valuable that mentality really is in fighting for what’s right.
Yippy-ki-yay.
WHY IT’S A GREAT FILM:
The original Die Hard set the standard for one of the classic action-thriller storylines: A group of baddies take control of an easily isolated location, threatening the innocents within, and the only thing they overlook is one lone guy who doesn’t particularly feel like he’s supposed to be there.
Far too often, though, the imitators miss the entire point of what made the original Die Hard so appealing: the inherent vulnerability of the hero in this situation.
Critic Joel Siegel summed up Die Hard’s greatness like so: “This action film is different. Willis is a real guy, not a comic book hero.” Exactly. John McClane can be hurt—and that makes it thrilling. He’s not invincible, and therefore he’s not boring. Because he’s likable, we care about him. And because he’s capable of feeling pain, we’re worried about him.
The tension is real. The thrill is real. While the classic ‘80s “hard body” action flick is admittedly fun and enjoyable in the end, are most of them—even the other classics—really that thrilling? Do we ever once actually worry about the lives of Arnold Schwarzenegger or Jean-Claude Van Damme? Certainly never for Steven Segal (and honestly, despite Under Siege being “Die Hard on a battleship,” isn’t it pretty boring?).
To their credit, the better “hard-body” flicks make sure to go the Man of Steel route and give these supermen emotional vulnerability, usually by putting people they care about, who can be hurt, in danger—see Commando, where Arnold’s arc involves saving his daughter.
In Die Hard, McClane’s emotional vulnerability centers on the danger to his wife. But at the same time, awesome as he is, he himself can also be hurt.
The Mastery Of Suspense:
We’re clued into the above fact from nearly the first moment of the baddies storming in. McClane immediately runs to safety to catch his breath and think. He’s even barefoot and remains that way for most of the film, grumbling about how none of the shoes of the villains he kills manage to fit!
His cool, clever tricks must be improvised on the fly. And so we admire him, but never once do we think he’s invincible.
Perhaps the best example of this is a sequence of pure Hitchcockian suspense. As the Master himself put it, the key to injecting a scene with cinematic tension is to let the audience in on the ever-increasing imminent danger to the character in question.
In this case, John McClane is using the strap of an automatic rifle as a rope to lower himself down an elevator shaft. And as he descends, the camera keeps cutting up to the top of his makeshift rope, letting us in on the fact that the strap is about to break!
Of course, intellectually, we know, “McClane’s the hero. And it’s too early in the movie anyway; he can’t die.” But nevertheless, we are swept up in the tension of the moment, and we know that he’s capable of getting hurt and feeling pain. So even though he won’t die, if he doesn’t get to the next level in time, it’s really gonna smart for poor John!
SNAP!—it breaks—
BOOM! He grabs ahold of the lower level just in the nick of time! But still, you just know it’s gotta be a bad strain on his poor arms!
Bruce Willis as John McClane:
This is the role that forever defined Bruce Willis as an action superstar. And though in his later years, we’d see him in more “invincible” roles, it’s here that his classic persona comes forth: the tough guy who’s not exactly eager for action—acting tiredly snarky about his situation to cope with just how stressful it is.
Things keep frustrating him—like that classic moment where McClane, realizing he’s got to crawl through a tight, dusty, cobweb-infested air duct, famously grumbles, “Come out to the coast! We’ll get together! Have a few laughs!”
He’s not a super muscle man. He doesn’t have six-pack abs—in fact, he’s arguably got a bit of a gut. But he rises to the occasion—using his grit and his wit to do so, plus a dark joke or two, to underline just what he thinks of these idiots he’s gotta take on.
Alan Rickman as Hans Gruber:
Classy, cultured, charismatic, and menacing. Rickman’s performance—actually his first ever in motion pictures—has become every bit as iconic as Willis’s.
“Nice suit. John Phillips, London. I have two, myself. Rumor has it Arafat buys his there!”
Equipped with his own sly sense of humor, Rickman’s Hans forms a priceless over-the-radio chemistry with John McClane. And the first time they meet face-to-face, we revel in their mutual cleverness. Hans puts on a “panicky hostage” act with a very convincing American accent. (Apparently, that’s precisely why the scene is in the movie—Rickman was so good at accents that the filmmakers felt it was too good not to put in!) And McClane really seems to fall for it, but the alertness in his eyes clues us in that his mind’s at work, too—and he gives Hans a gun, which turns out to be unloaded, just to troll him into exposing himself.
They’re worthy opponents, and by the end, they can share a laugh over that before the final shootout.
The Rest Of The Cast:
Bonnie Bedelia plays Holly with the right kind of spunk and sass for the audience to believe that 1) she’s the woman for a guy like McClane and 2) it’s a good bet they’re gonna patch things up.
Karl, Hans’ vengeance-crazed henchman who’s obsessed with avenging the death of his brother—the first goon John dispatches—is played by Alexander Godunov, who brings something Klaus-Kinski-esque to his character’s believable craziness and rage.
Reginald VelJohnson portrays Sgt. Al Powell, the LAPD cop who forms a friendship with John over the radio. The bond they form by confiding in each other over their vulnerabilities and struggles injects a lot of heart into the film.
Argyle, the limo driver, is portrayed by De’voreaux White, and Clarence Gilyard plays Theo, Hans’s resident hacker and sports-loving nerd.
Thornburg, the living embodiment of everything a journalist should never, ever be, is played by William Atherton, and Hart Bochner plays Ellis, the conman-type negotiator who acts far too chummy to possibly be convincing. Donald Trump, he ain’t.
The Mighty Robert Davi, now one of the key faces in Hollywood conservatism, plays Special Agent Johnson. No, the other one. And it’s darkly humorous seeing the character start off as a confident professional and then dissolve into an excitable kook who gets kinda helicopter crazy.
By The Way…
Pay attention to the opening credits, and you’ll notice a “Based on the novel by Roderick Thorpe.” It’s actually more complex than that. The source material involves a series of novels from Thorpe, the first of which actually inspired the classic film noir The Detective, starring none other than The Chairman Of The Board, Old Blue Eyes himself, Frank Sinatra.
Amusingly enough, as Die Hard was supposed to be the sequel—based on the novel Nothing Lasts Forever—Sinatra was supposed to return as the lead. He turned it down, though, probably because, by 1988, he’d have been insanely too old for an action role. And so, they rewrote the script, making the hero younger—seeking to reconcile with his wife, not the daughter from the book—and giving him a new name.
(The book, by the way, does have Hans’s epic fall, but he succeeds in taking the daughter down with him. Say what you will about 80s movies with “mandatory happy endings,” but, frankly, Holly dying would’ve probably come off as pretty forced—like a ripoff of Chinatown—and made the whole thing look pretty pointless.)
Director John McTiernan is a bit of an icon of Hollywood action cinema. Besides Die Hard, he also directed Predator, The Hunt For Red October, and the lesser-known Flight Of The Intruder. His Last Action Hero is an underrated comedic deconstruction of the action flicks he helped codify and define. Sadly, a string of legal troubles has severely derailed his career. We can only hope and pray for a comeback.
Buy this classic here. And stay Cultured, my friends.
Any recommendations for films to make the series? Read the rules here, and let us know!