I love the ’90s. The days when heroes weren’t tortured ex-operatives, but Average Joes forced into action when the woman they love and the plane, bus, or building she’s in are attacked by a bad guy with an axe to grind, or, preferably, to stick in our hero’s head.
So imagine the nostalgia I felt, seeing the pain on Keanu’s…Oops, the pain on square-jawed Det. Danny Fisher’s (John Cena) face as he watches his plumber’s explosive death at the hands of evil genius, Miles Jackson (Aidan Gillen). No, you’re not watching the exploding city bus from Speed‘s first act, though both scenes do share an equal amount of open shirts and fireballs. What you’re seeing is a fiery observance of the one-year anniversary of the day Danny accidentally killed Miles’ lover. His present to Danny? Angry phone calls and twelve games that Danny must complete, lest his blonde girlfriend Molly (Ashley Scott, wearing more clothes here than she did in Into The Blue) meet her demise. History tells me that revenge isn’t all Miles wants. Villains from the ’90s have bills to pay, too.
Watching Danny’s shirt flutter in the wind created by his mile-long sprint, I feel déjà vu. Did I fall into a wormhole on the way up the escalator? Did I park the DeLorean in the decade where “Pop quiz, hotshot,” was a warning from a gold watch-wearing Dennis Hopper instead of a snide greeting from my college professor? No, it can’t be – Obama is President, not Clinton. Arnie balances budgets now, not bullet counts. And the Director is…Renny Harlin? The guy behind Cliffhanger and Die Hard 2? I blink, thinking I see Doc Brown hiding in the corner. If you’re looking for more of the plot, check your VHS shelf. Because you’ve already seen this movie. Everyone in this movie has seen this movie. Miles saw Die Hard With A Vengeance enough to know that cops love riddles, especially when there’s a bomb waiting for them to fail. He’s studied McClane’s villains so much that he confuses his accents from time to time. Danny’s done his homework on how to handle an out-of-control mass-transit vehicle. Is this a fresh take on the genre? No. It’s a love letter to it, signed by Vince McMahon, whose WWE is perhaps the last bastion of true action heroes – just ask The Rock. Sure, I know the elevator will crash, and the pool will be just deep enough to allow the heroes to survive a 90-foot drop. But that’s the fun of it: 12 Rounds is 108 fun minutes of old-fashioned, nonstop action, reality be damned.
Credit goes to Harlin and writer Daniel Kunka for using Cena’s muscles for heavy, rather than dramatic, lifting. Although Cena does flex his chops in a few scenes with a surrounding cast full of the genre’s tropes: the vengeful FBI Agent, Unlucky Bank Guards #1 and #2, and Danny’s partner Hank (Stomp the Yard‘s Brian J. White) – who clearly missed the part in Speed when Jeff Daniels follows a great lead into a great trap.
I needn’t say what happens to Miles. Just ask Hans Gruber and his brother Simon. Dig Howard Payne’s head from the subway rails and get his opinion on how schemes turn out in movies like this. ’90s or 2000s, this is America – our heroes have to win and walk away on their own two feet. Sometimes those feet just have glass in them. But the real winner here is New Orleans. David Boyd shoots the city in an honest manner, equally showing its beauty and post-Katrina bruises. Not so subtle are Danny and Hank’s potshots at the government’s handling of the disaster, and some obvious CGI background inserts. Knowing this film gave work to those who need it most warms my ’90s-bred heart. And makes me less wary of Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans. Is this stellar writing or visionary directing? Can Danny really catch a car going full speed? Is Miles Scottish, Cajun, or British? Questions like that are so 2000s.
And I never liked quizzes, anyway.
Clarence Hammond
© Cinephile Magazine, 2009