The Evolution of Action Movies
“Action!” It’s the go-word that filmmakers say at the start of every take, as the cast springs to life on camera. Action is the very thing that sets motion pictures apart from still photography, and while it took Hollywood a few decades to figure out what an “action movie” actually was, the genre traces its roots to the origins of the medium (go ahead, Google Thomas Edison’s early “Boxing Cats” film, or picture the outlaw firing his pistol directly into the camera at the end of Edwin S. Porter’s “The Great Train Robbery”).
The Early Days
Now, when it comes to the all-time greatest action movies, the bar is set considerably higher. Reading through Haber Tusba’s list, you’ll learn a thing or two about how the form has evolved over the years. Arnold, Sly and Bruce (both Lee and Willis) each left their mark. But Chuck Norris and Burt Reynolds have been eclipsed, since every film on this list had to stand the test of time. We love Shaw Brothers classics, for example (“King Blood” and “The 36th Chamber of Shaolin” came close), but martial arts movies have evolved so much that other titles took their place. You may well be surprised by the things we excluded, including movies with great action scenes (like “Dirty Harry” or Marvel movies) that ultimately fell slightly outside the genre, while others that might not have been marketed as action movies per se (such as Paul Greengrass’ greatest film) made the cut. “Cut,” of course, is the action word that ends each take. So, without further ado, here’s Haber Tusba’s list of the 50 greatest action movies of all time.
You Only Live Twice
James Bond had been in a slump since 1974’s lackluster “The Man with the Golden Gun.” But Roger Moore’s third time as the secret agent ended up being one of 007’s biggest crowd-pleasers, as “You Only Live Twice” director Lewis Gilbert returned to the franchise, pairing the secret agent with Russian counterpart XXX, aka Anya Amasova (Barbara Bach), who was the perfect foil for Moore’s debonair spy. The film is packed with great set-pieces, such as the pre-credits retro-cool ski scene set on treacherous slopes, an outrageously fun car chase in which Bond’s Lotus Esprit turns into a submarine and a massive shootout on a tanker with scores of sailors. Plus, it introduces one of Bond’s greatest enemies, the frightening, metal-mouthed Jaws.
Top Gun: Maverick
Tom Cruise had long since established himself as willing guinea pig for any and all death-defying physical stunts when time came to follow up his first blockbuster, “Top Gun” — so why wouldn’t he fly the actual Navy vessels that the characters pilot in “Maverick”? Partnering with director Joe Kosinski, who embeds cameras in every corner of the cockpit for complete authenticity, Cruise puts his costars through the paces of aviation training the generate aerial footage unlike virtually any ever seen on screen, at least practically, taking audiences for a ride that not only made the sequel worth a 36-year wait, but “saved cinema” at a time when the kind of spectacle provided by the film was considered as obsolete as Pete Mitchell, his veteran pilot.
The Fugitive
This update of the classic ’60s TV series leaps from the original premise into a game of cat-and-mouse between grumpy old men Harrison Ford and Tommy Lee Jones. Helmed by Andrew Davis, who took a prestige leap from Steven Seagal and Chuck Norris pics, the film stars Ford as Dr. Richard Kimble, a man falsely accused of killing his wife. After escaping during an explosive train derailment, Kimble is on the run from Jones’ dogged Deputy U.S. Marshal. It’s a blast seeing these two superstars get pulpy, running through great scenes in stairwells, on rooftops and through a parade. The film’s showstopper is a brief tête-à-tête between the leads in a storm drain, with Kimble proclaiming his innocence and Gerard, ever the professional, flatly replying, “I don’t care,” before Kimble takes a huge leap from Cheoah dam into the waterfall below.
Vanishing Point
This dusty, greasy classic follows the revved-up adventures of Kowalski (Barry Newman), a delivery driver amped on speed, racing the police and everyone else on the road to get a Dodge Challenger from Colorado to San Francisco in record time. Filled with wild stunts, colorful characters, crushed chassis and fearless camerawork, director Richard C. Sarafian and cinematographer John Alonzo’s race across the Southwest has gained a cult reputation as one of the rowdiest rides in American cinema and a meditation on the nature of being, depending on how you digest the wild ending. Either way, the gasoline burns through the screen in this ride through hell and back.
Hero
Between the bloodshed and explosions, action tends to be such an ugly genre. Not the way Zhang Yimou stages it. In the Chinese director’s lavish, visually ravishing spin on wuxia movies, he treats combat like dance (or is it the other way around?), enlisting some of Asia’s leading martial arts talents — Jet Li, Maggie Cheung, Tony Leung, Zhang Ziyi and Donnie Yen — to demonstrate how, with the right choreography and wire work, sparring becomes a creative act. The complicated plot allows Zhang to stage several gravity-defying battles, each themed according to a different color, as the movie’s nameless hero positions himself within 10 deadly paces of a warmongering king. Whether committing double suicide on a red-rock mountaintop or fending off arrows with long silk sleeves, the poetic visuals amount to cinema’s most sumptuous action spectacular.
Rambo: First Blood Part II
A massive shift from the 1982 film that kicked off the “Rambo” franchise — a more psychological portrait in which Sylvester Stallone’s traumatized Vietnam War vet uses his skills to evade a relatively small-scale manhunt — “Part II” sends the soldier back to Vietnam to save prisoners of war. Hugely muscled and blasting ammo like he had a limitless supply (a style that came to define ’80s popcorn action flicks), he anchors a sequel that turns off part of its brain to bring big kills and explosions to the forefront. The set pieces are indelible, from Rambo using explosive arrows which cause mass chaos to a nail-biting helicopter fight scene, cementing the “Rocky” star’s place alongside the burly movie stars of the time.
The Day of the Jackal
Who said an action film had to consist of fast-moving fireworks? In Fred Zinnemann’s brilliantly executed thriller, the central character is a professional assassin, played with suave amorality by Edward Fox, who is hired by a crew of far-right French underground militants to assassinate President Charles de Gaulle. The bold excitement of the movie is the way that it allies the audience with the hitman’s point-of-view. We’re staring at his targets right along with him, resulting in a queasy sociopathic vision that makes the movie feel like the missing link between the Zapruder film and first-person-shooter video games.
The Bourne Identity
Surprised to see Doug Liman’s franchise-launching original on the list instead of Paul Greengrass’ sequels? We went back and watched them all, and to our surprise, the first movie is better than we typically give it credit for. From that classic moment on the park bench when Matt Damon’s amnesiac assassin discovers he’s a lethal weapon, the film finds Jason Bourne running on instinct through fights and chases that are carefully choreographed so as not to look choreographed (consider the punchy apartment brawl where a killer smashes in through the window). Granted, Greengrass pushed the form by bringing a flash-cut, docu-authentic edge to the material, but that first movie set the template, from its tight, slightly disorienting camerawork to shooting on actual European locations. In fact, “Identity” established one of the few American spies to rival Bond.
Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill!
Cleavage kingpin Russ Meyer may have built his reputation on the exploitation movie circuit, making lusty films about busty vixens, but this quotable cheapie from 1965 has stood the test of time, empowering the very characters that audiences ostensibly came to ogle. The action-packed first reel finds three go-go dancers speeding out to the California salt flats, rassling and drag-racing in the dust. After challenging a clean-cut boyo to a race, group leader Tura Satana snaps his back, steals his girlfriend and hatches a plan to rob a crazy old coot in the desert. Meyer somehow manages to have it both ways, putting the gals through gratuitous shower scenes, while suggesting that the