Lionheart (1990)

Based on a story and screenplay by action star, martial artist and Tostitos spokesperson Jean-Claude Van Damme, Lionheart casts Bloodsport’s Belgian bruiser as Leo, a serviceman in the multinational Foreign Legion and stationed in the fun-to-say Djibouti; he’s one lone, stone-cold warrior surrounded by a bunch of comical Col. Klink-style Germans always riding his ass for something or another.

When his brother is gruesomely immolated by drug dealers, Leo uses his high-kickin’ feet to say goodbye to his superiors (and his superiors’ faces), hitchin’ a ride on a 1930s steamship to New York City where, as soon as he gets off the boat, in a moment of prescient critique, he harshly compares and contrasts the drug-abusing homeless dudes on the ground with the wholly porcine moneymen in their glass towers — to which he shakes his head and dismissively says, “America!”

Good burn, JCVD.

Leo soon hooks up with Joshua (Harrison Page, Carnosaur), a jive-talking fight manager whose profanity-rich dialogue would be moderately offensive if the guy wasn’t putting his heart and soul into this mildly racist character. Together, after beating up the cast of Beat Street, they make it to Los Angeles and, in between helping his sister-in-law and her adorable 5-year-old, he manages to get into one high-paying blood brawl after another, knocking out the best Frank Dux-choreographed stuntmen in parking lots, racquetball courts and the near-empty pools of the rich and famous.

Lionheart does a good job in casting Van Damme as the ultimate good guy: a nice, caring man doing everything through excessive violence to help his friends and family, all the while eschewing the continuous advances of a rich benefactor who is unsubtly letting him know she’s looking for a good-ish time, and I do mean sexually.

But he’s having none of it, instead choosing healthy alternatives such as constantly jogging around his neighborhood, eating bean burritos and outrunning the bulky Foreign Legion goons looking for him. (Although, to be fair, he does gratuitously preview his well-buffed buttocks for the ladies, although I’d really like to meet the woman who fell in love with this flick, Jean-Claude Van Damme and action films in general simply because of three seconds of tightly toned foreign ass.)

I’m not giving away any well-guarded secret by saying there’s a final fight with a ’roided-out Paul Stanley look-alike, but make sure to stay for the final scene, as JCVD and his friends and family enthusiastically hug and laugh maniacally as the camera pulls back and the credits roll. You’ll instantly feel pretty bad about yourself and your life if you’ve never had one of those tender moments in your non-Lionhearted existence.  —Louis Fowler

Get it at Amazon.

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