Live Free or Die Hard
Directed by Len Wiseman
No point arguing cinema vs. gaming. In Live Free or Die Hard, the latter has usurped the former. All that matters now is figuring out the new hybrid’s ultimate value. To call this the best Die Hard movie ever made merely acknowledges that Director Len Wiseman simplifies the franchise to its basic elements: Predicament, Villain, Hero, Action. It works better without the pretense of story and characters—especially for Bruce Willis. Shaved down to TV-actor glibness, an aging, bald, macho cartoon is all that’s left.
Buster Keaton would disapprove Willis’ unwitty stunts in Live Free or Die Hard: a scene in which a jet fighter flies beneath a freeway overpass; a barely-escaped, upward-velocity explosion inside an elevator shaft; a land vs. sky chase sequence where an automobile leaves the road, rousing an observer to exclaim to Willis, “You just killed a helicopter with a police car!” All told, Live Free or Die Hard specializes in stupefaction, which is an entirely different approach to cinema than Keaton’s. It’s a mechanical pleasure, whereas Keaton’s super-credible play with gravity and nature defined timeless grace.
Wiseman fits Live Free or Die Hard to the post-atomic, post-James Bond, post-9/11 fantasy of jaded spectators now so accustomed to bombs, espionage and terrorism that such threats can be soullessly manipulated. And that’s the plot: An end-of-days techie genius auspiciously named Gabriel (Timothy Olyphant) shuts down the computer-controlled infrastructure of the Eastern seaboard. Super cop John McClane (Bruce Willis) gets called in to stop Armageddon. McClane’s catch-him-with-a-smirk stunts are not new, in fact Wiseman’s proficiency is so routine it’s almost schlocky—like the action scenes in Grindhouse, with the same ugly, colorless palette. (It looks like CGI test reels, unrefined from the F/X lab.) There’s no imaginative connection to the real world like Keaton’s Three Ages or Sherlock Jr. or The General or Seven Chances. Such a pragmatic approach to doing Sequel Number Three isn’t even self-referential.
Wiseman offers a control panel/joystick experience that replaces vicarious thrills with tactical, predictable, joyless preoccupation.
Willis’ idealized Joe American doesn’t need to utter the Patrick Henry-inspired title reference since, after 9/11, Cop-Daddy’s personal liberty is paramount. Shrewd marketing avoids saying so, just as it avoids demonizing real-life terrorists. Yet it flatters fanboys by caricaturing computer nerds on a sliding scale from evil genius to sidekick Matt Farrell (Justin Long) to celeb-geek-who-saves-the-day played by Kevin Smith. This apolitical scheme climaxes with a nationally televised terrorist threat utilizing an electronic patchwork of presidential sound bites from FDR to Bush 2. It’s in the spirit of impudent gaming, not liberal snark. The ad’s warning “WHAT IF HELP WILL NEVER COME?” reduces contemporary fear to “virtual terrorism.”
This mix of politics and sensationalism is the opposite of conscientious, and yet slick enough for both yahoos and the smart-about-movies crowd. Unlike United 93’s insensitive exploitation of dread, Live Free or Die Hard never denies being an entertainment. Its political incorrectness cuts both sides: whether McClane’s hair-pulling fight with a femme fatale or Farrell’s suggestion that the best minds remain outside the government—all in dumb fun. But it’s less smart than Delta Farce, the genial, though widely misunderstood, satire on heroism.
John McClane’s hip modesty—“If there was somebody else to do it, I’d let them do it”—amounts to degradation. When told he looks injured, McClane’s response, “Sexy, right?” denies the prospect of integrity and belittles anyone who might enjoy this game-movie too much. Idealism is the best part of two-fisted American movie heroes from John Wayne to Delta Farce; figures who stand for something besides themselves. The best defense McClane can muster is “It’s not a system, it’s a country!” That’s not patriotism, not heroism: It’s virtual entertainment.
