Exit Wounds

Every year or two, some Hollywood mogul feels compelled to put Steven Seagal in a new movie, so every year or two one is compelled to go see it, just to stay honest. Since 1988, when Seagal made the transition from Hollywood employee to Hollywood star with “Above the Law,” he has been trying to recapture the magic. On balance, I would say that about one in five of his movies are watchable, the remainder running the gamut from merely poor to intolerable. Back in the old days, Seagal really was something different. He was striking if not classically handsome, possessed of a world class scowl coupled with disarmingly quiet manner of speaking, and he really was a master of the hard style hapkido that is featured in his movies. (In fact, the best footage he has ever shot may be the opening scenes of “Above the Law” which appear to be home movies of Seagal at work in his dojo, tossing opponents around with thrilling dispatch. These efforts look real, by the way, not like Hollywood fakery, unless I am being faked out.)

He also brought a new attitude to martial arts films, stating that his combat style was not about looking good or about balletic moves, but about destroying his opponent in the least possible amount of time with the least possible effort. (A new millennium attitude if I ever heard one. Maybe he was ahead of his time.) Nevertheless, in subsequent efforts the scripts of his pictures deteriorated, and no real effort was forthcoming to update the formula (with the one-in-five exceptions mentioned above). Attempts to incorporate liberal themes (environmentalism, Indian rights) into his pictures did not enhance the stories, and tended to distract from the real point of his movies, which is Steve beating up bad guys. The script for “Exit Wounds,” which is based on a novel by John Westerman, attempts to inflect some 2001 style hip hop energy into the mix, but the result is a confused muddle. Seagal plays Orin Boyd, a Detroit cop who, as so often happens, doesn’t play by the rules, thus earning the wrath of his superiors. In the opening sequence, Orin saves the Vice-President from a band of extremist kidnappers.

For his heroism, he is promptly demoted, and only then does he stumble across what appears to be a big heroin score being perpetrated by one Latrell Walker. Walker is played by the rapper DMX, and while he has a strong screen presence, he really doesn’t have a lot to do. Meanwhile, Boyd must also deal with some crooked cops, as well as a tough but beautiful new commander (the lovely Jill Hennessy, totally wasted here). There isn’t a whole lot of point in discussing the plot, since it is either too simple or too confusing to matter (I haven’t decided). The movie goes nowhere fast, and unfortunately even the action scenes are routine, especially one dragged out car chase. Seagal looks reasonably trim (and the pony tail is long gone), but in what must be a nod to his advancing years, the action is shot in quick, close cuts. This technique makes it easier to believe that Seagal is actually performing the moves, but it has the regrettable effect of making the action itself seem unconvincing. Since the fight scenes are usually the main reason to see one of Seagal’s movies, this is a crippling loss. “Exit Wounds” also maintains the fiction that all these tough guys want to fight Boyd hand-to-hand, instead of pulling out the firearms like any self respecting thug would do in this day and age. The thin plotting, poor characterizations, and absence of humor make this a movie only for die hard Seagal fans, the ones who have all of his films on video. You know who you are. (3/31/2001)