“JCVD” Review

Though it sounds like a venereal disease, “JCVD” is actually a Jean-Claude Van Damme film. Van Damme’s career has been on a bit of a downturn of late. I believe his last theatrically released film was “Universal Soldier: The Return” in ‘99. Ever since, he’s kept working, churning out one DTV entry after another, not unlike another fading martial arts superstar, Steven Seagal.

To be fair, Van Damme was never on par with the marble-mouthed giants of action cinema — Arnold Schwarzenegger and Sylvester Stallone. He knocked out a few moderately successful actioners at his peak, my personal favorite being “TimeCop.” But he never commanded a $20 million paycheck, nor spoke a line of a heavily-accented dialogue that’s still quoted by young men to this very day. Fun fact: Van Damme was originally cast as the titular beastie in “Predator” before he walked off the troubled production and the character’s design was dramatically reinvented by the late Stan Winston.

“JCVD” explores the price of Van Damme’s fame, or lack thereof. It opens with an unbroken take of our hero fighting his way through some war-torn nondescript cityscape before the set begins to fall apart. He’s then insulted by the film’s director, a non-English-speaking wunderkind who throws darts at a picture of Hollywood between takes; it’s a brilliant encapsulation of how I imagine these cheapie productions are actually made. Van Damme’s personal life is no picnic, either. During a custody hearing, his ex-wife’s attorney uses Van Damme’s oeurve as evidence that he’s an unfit parent. On top of that, he’s broke, and a role he was up for just went to — you guessed it — Steven Seagal.

So he returns to his native Brussels, and when he goes to pick up a wire transfer at the post office, he finds himself in the middle of a robbery. The crooks take him hostage before getting the bright idea to make it look like Van Damme masterminded the heist himself. What follows is a deconstruction of Van Damme’s action hero persona. His high-kicking becomes fodder for a hostage-taker’s entertainment, and at one point, Van Damme shatters the fourth-wall, addressing the audience directly in a rambling, tearful monologue about his celebrity.

Between this film and the upcoming “My Name is Bruce,” I’m beginning to think a new sub-genre is being born: one of self-loathing cult icons exploring the implosion of their careers against a high-concept backdrop. Van Damme’s never been accused of being a great actor, but he’s in the role of his life here: himself. And he gives it his all. I don’t think “My Name is Bruce” will be anywhere near as bold.

I’d like to see this reinvention of Van Damme lead to bigger and better things for the star. I don’t want him return to DTV features after putting so much of himself — literally — into “JCVD.” How about a theatrically-released “TimeCop” sequel?

-Brad Lohan

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