Like his action films, Jean-Claude Van Damme’s 2008 ‘comeback’ was given short-shrift by the mainstream media, although the lack of interest in Van Damme’s serious acting chops was likely due to the heavy attention levied on Mickey Rourke’s own career boost in The Wrestler. Rourke has always been capable of treading into Oscar territory, but Van Damme will forever remain part of a core group of eighties action stars whose physical bulk and B-movies will likely ensure they’ll never be taken seriously as actors.

Sylvester Stallone, another contemporary, managed to show he had some range in the surprisingly moving Rocky Balboa (2006), but then it was a character he created, developed over several sequels, and pretty much owned. There’s also the factor of playing a character close to one’s self who’s at a desperate point in his life – maybe not financially or socially, but at least creatively at wits’ end.

That’s sometimes been a venue through which action stars can also grow; with Stallone-Rocky Balboa, it worked, but with Arnold Schwarzenegger in End of Days (1999), it was laughable (hence Arnie’s eventual switch to politics). What’s startling about JCVD is that Van Damme is playing a version of himself that’s probably shared by the general public: a washed up, aging action star with personal issues (child custody, divorce, and taxes) whose film career is over. The expectation is that JCVD is parody, but in reality it’s a character piece with a few sharp barbs at Hollywood and Van Damme’s contemporaries.

There’s genuine humour and subtle absurdity throughout the film, and while it’s ostensibly a siege film – bank robbers use Van Damme as their scapegoat in bargaining with the police when the robbery goes incredibly bad – it’s also a quiet meditation on how the public views action stars, and how stars view themselves. That personal introspection is ongoing because the robbers are constantly challenging van Damme’s persona: he’s a physically imposing and intimidating star whom one captor (and unsubtle fan) eggs to perform a famous movie feat, and another uses a gun to remind the star he’s just a hostage who can be shot at any given time.

The teasing and demand for some signature star behaviour/karate moves ultimately reaches a boiling point twice: in an early bank scene where Van Damme needs to withdraw cash for legal fees, and in a long monologue where the character addresses the audience; the former is The Scene which shows Van Damme can indeed act (enhanced by conversing/cursing in his native French), whereas the latter is exceptionally moving because it’s where the character of JCVD expresses regret over twenty years of extreme ups and downs; it's where JCVD tells us how he fucked up his career and marriage, and where Van Damme tries to win over sceptical audiences - and he’s frankly awesome.

Director/co-writer Mabrouk El Mechri’s also pushed the actor to create a layered character, because the film isn’t a hard action film. El Mechri starts the movie with a long Wellesian tracking shot showing JCVD doing his action thing as a one-man fighting machine, but the director also denies us a similar-styled movie ending we’re expecting because JCVD manages to commit a boo-boo during the forced negotiations with police, and as in the real world, there has to be some consequences; all ends well for JCVD, but not in the way action fans expect.

Plot-wise, JCVD is very simple, and that may be why the film’s long midsection consists of multiple character angles; it breaks up the story and provides alternate perspectives (the police, JCVD, the crooks) without slogging through a standard siege formula, but it also masks the film’s thin plot. The reason the film works so well is Van Damme’s excellent performance, and El Mechri’s snappy direction that cleverly teases us with a preamble towards a big action moment, but instead substitutes meaningful character bits and satire.

Peace Arch’s DVD is surprisingly short on extras, offering just a trailer, the ubiquitous digital copy, and two deleted scenes of which one is really just an outtake. Both scenes are single camera setups, and the unused scene offers a muddy explanation of JCVD’s frequent use of “aware” as a catch-phrase.

The print transfer is very clean, as is the digital sound mix. Gast Waltzing’s score is excellent, and most of the cues have been edited or mixed down and broken up by a few vocal pieces, so fans of the Belgian composer’s music should check out the score album which really bubbles with the brassy, funky JCVD theme.

JCVD is a feel-good movie for action and Jean-Claude Van Damme fans, but whether the film will redefine the actor is up to fate, and the biases of producers unwilling to see Van Damme beyond his old screen persona.

Seriously, the man can act.

© 2009 Mark R. Hasan