Written by Arthur Silver, Larry Levinson, John Crowther, Lance Hool, James Bruner
Directed by Joseph Zito
U.S.A., 1986
In the aftermath of the Vietnam War, one of the contentious issues plaguing American-Vietnamese relations is the rumour that U.S. soldiers are still be held against their will in prison camps. This is something former Colonel James Braddock (Chuck Norris), who participated in the Vietnam campaign, firmly believes, unequivocally so, despite his inability to demonstrate it to the wider public. For reasons poorly explained, Braddock is brought along on a diplomatic mission to Ho Chi Minh where officials on both sides are to discuss the matter. Braddock is not the diplomatic type however, preferring to engage in a solo mission to discover the truth about his brothers in arms who are, supposedly, Missing in Action.
The funny thing about the movie is the way it begins, namely, with a bang, but one hinting that the filmmakers have something slightly more intellectual in mind that the run of the mill B-grade action flick. Missing in Action’s opening sequence is a well filmed, smartly edited chase sequence in the Vietnamese jungles back during the war. Braddock is desperately trying to guide his troops to safety as bullets and rockets fly by. Just as he sacrifices himself to take down an enemy soldier he awakens in a hotel room. Sweaty and visibly weary, the opening minutes of the picture suggest director Joseph Zito and the army (no pun intended) of screenwriters will tackle the taboo subject of post-traumatic stress disorder. Zito and company however very quickly set things in motion the way films of this ilk ought to be, making it quite clear that the Vietnamese are hiding something from the American government and that the only man to uncover the truth is Braddock, not some spineless diplomats.
No one in their right mind would ever argue that governments don’t have their dirty little secrets. The expression ‘My country, right or wrong’ is bull-headed at best, dangerous at worst. There is little doubt that Vietnam was not the least bit kind to its prisoners of war during this most futile of conflicts. However, the manner in which Missing in Action goes about painting the Vietnamese as the villains is embarrassing to say the least, a tactic whose sole purpose could only be to quench the thirst of the most jingoistic audience members. Moderate American political conservatives would blush.
Making matters worse is the film’s middle section, which appears to have no clue about how to get the protagonist to where his mission will eventually take him. In a nutshell, this stretch commits the cardinal sin in movies: it’s just plain boring. There is neither tension nor any thrills to be had in watching Chuck Norris, adorned in black spy gear, tip toeing his way around enemy complexes and plush homes to extract information from corrupt Vietnamese officials. None of this is aided by Norris’ incredulously poor acting. Criticising his performance as wooden would be an insult to trees. The very fact that the lone female diplomat (Lenore Kasdorf) gives him a sensual kiss on the lips before he leaves for the final portion of his quest is dumfounding. She has to fall for him…because he’s the male lead in this action movie?
Things pick up, somewhat, during the final third, if only because the film reveals where it spent the majority of its budget: explosions. Credit where credit is due however, the jungle encampments Braddock attacks are lit up like no one-man army ever could (technically his has old army buddy M. Emmet Walsh, although the latter mostly guards their boat), going up in atomic bomb-sized balls of flames. Following the impressive fireworks is a series of long exchanges of gunfire in which Norris, his partner and the escaping G.I. Joes are never once scratched by a single round of ammunition while every single, stinking, no good Vietnamese soldier gets what’s coming to him in a hail of bullets!
That is to say, Braddock and company make their daring escape in a scene reminiscent the one that haunted the hero at the start of the picture, only this time he makes it out alive, proving to the world that there were indeed Americans still in the grasp of the enemy. There is even what some might describe as the ‘money shot’ of the picture: three nefarious Viet soldiers laughing away as they believe to have killed Braddock, only for the latter to emerge from the water, in slow motion, and mow each one down.
Classless, tasteless, handicapped by a leading man with as much charisma as drying paint, Missing in Action is as low as it gets with 1980s action movies. Another term comes to mind: mindless fun, although minus the fun.
-Edgar Chaput