If ever there were a franchise that emblemizes its title, Die Hard is that franchise. Don’t get me wrong. The first three installments were solid. The first, as I’ve noted here before, is a great Christmas movie. Really. The second is a bit more tongue in cheek, but still fun, and the third, while this is certainly up for debate, might be my favorite. Jeremy Irons is an awesome bad guy; Bruce Willis is as Bruce-Willisy as he can be; and Sam Jackson was in the prime of his angry-black-archetype phase.
However, the fourth film, Live Free or Die Hard, while a great summer movie kicked off on July 4th, left something to be desired logically and narratively. The notion that a car can be launched into the air by speeding over a moderate ramp at the Midtown tunnel is silly visual fodder for those who have never been to New York City. The premise that said-launched car hitting an aircraft is equally as unbelievable. But let’s suspend our disbelief for just a moment and look at the implied superheroism of John McClane. I’m not terribly against the unbeatable mortal. Schwarzenegger made a living out of being the guy who just doesn’t get hurt; however, McClane was a kick ass character because he was painfully human: susceptible to cuts, bruises, Europeans, bullets, shattered glass, and hangovers. His humanness made him likable, and – though we never assumed he would die – his hard-to-beat-down persona made him easier to root for. Now – or at least beginning in the fourth installment – he’s above human. He’s snarky, bald, and badass, but he’s almost like the character he played in Unbreakable.
The fifth film, A Good Day to Die Hard portends the limping death rattle of a promising franchise. This time, McClane travels to Russia (the cinematic enemy that will never die!) and teams up with his son (family drama!), who happens to be a CIA operative (more information than dad and the potential of a double-agenty twist!).
I’m sure the film will be action-packed and a fun ride so long as we buy into the new character established in the fourth film, but the tagline steers me from seeing this film for any form of currency. The classic McClane “Yippee Ki-Yay Mother Fucker” is taken and bastardized into “Yipee Ki-Yay Mother Russia!” The pun is off-putting, as is the corny attempt at cleverness. Plus, it reeks of unoriginality.
In a sense, there are shades and echoes here of Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, in which the iconic character (Indie cum McClane) is brought in for audience allure, but whose scenes will be painful to watch on account of the creative indifference of a PG-13 film comprised mostly of regurgitated lines – see the tag for primary example.
For full disclosure, I’m truly hoping that this fifth installment will be nothing like I fear it will and will right the ship sent asunder by the Live Free or Die Hard. However, the February opening of Good Day is a harbinger that even the studios have neglected the story in favor of an audience with nostalgia driven thirty-somethings and teenagers looking for an alternative to the inevitable Valentines Day regurgitation.
