The Detective (1968)

Frank Sinatra is a seen-it-all NYC detective on the verge of seeing far more than he ever bargained for when he starts investigating the case of a –- to use James Ellroy’s cruel terms –- homo-cide. The crime starts in a high-end flat with a corpse minus a pecker, but Sinatra’s Joe Leland don’t blink. Yet. The man also has off-job problems, dealing with the collapse of his marriage to a new ager Karen (Lee Remick). These latter scenes are a dud, especially the flashbacks as Joe meets Karen, each sequence intro’d by a twirly camera and goofy “You are getting sleepy!” music that would play better in a Marx Brothers spoof. Scenes involving the gay “lifestyle” are unintentionally hilarious-slash-insulting. Sinatra gives the roll his all, and the mystery is aces, but director (Gordon Douglas) drops balls. Speaking of, dig that perfectly placed fern. Too funny. Film geek alert: Based on a book, Leland got a new name and title in his next novel-to-screen adaptation, “Die Hard.” Yes, John McClane. B

White House Down (2013)

It’s a tough year for 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. Obama is tanking badly, and movie wise, North Korean terrorists attacked the White House in “Olympus Has Fallen,” and comic book flicks “Iron Man 3” and “G.I. Joe: Retaliation” both put the Executive Mansion under threat. So does “White House Down,” with the D.C. landmark falling (again) to terrorists. Hollywood sure likes a theme. This version concerns right-wing military fanatics going ape shit with a World War III plot that screams 1985, but with a Tea Party bent that somehow feels exactly like what Sarah Palin and her ilk must dream of at night. Who wants peace when war is so profitable? Self-righteous pricks. Channing Tatum has the heroic John McClane role, down to the tank top, while Jamie Foxx is the Prez. Foxx’s casting is key as he channels BO down to the Nicorette, while director Roland Emmerich (“Independence Day”) seems to be openly daring/baiting Obama, “Stand up and lead!” These veiled jabs of satire and several fourth-wall busting asides (“This is so stupid” our hero mutters to himself) make this dead-horse plot of White House distress fall smooth. B

Olympus Has Fallen (2013)

“Olympus Has Fallen” is a ridiculous “Die Hard” knock-off that pits a lone hero (Gerard Butler of “300”) against a pack of terrorists at the White House, but -- ironically, maybe – is far better than the POS “Die Hard 6” ever hoped to be. That’s a lukewarm compliment. This is the kind of flick one watches in silent awe because of the riotous onscreen tug-of-war between “blow ’em up” fist-pump carnage and “can you believe this?” brain-killer stupidity. Case in point: After North Korean terrorists attack the White House, killing hundreds of people, taking hostage the president (Aaron Eckhart), and grabbing control of all U.S. nukes, the speaker of the house (Morgan Freeman) appears on TV and dumbly declares, “Our government is 100 percent functional.” Seriously! Not even Mr. Freeman can sell that crap. He tries. I laughed. Director Antoine Fugu (“Training Day”) has built a beat-for-beat rip-off of the 1988 classic, down to the Army helicopter crash, minus the Twinkie. At least “Olympus" never pretends to be anything but a B-grade shadow of a knock-off, and that goes a long way for slack. Butler is no Bruce Willis, though, and his wisecrack attempts ring hollow. How’s “White House Down”? C+

A Good Day to Die Hard (2013)

“A Good Day to Die Hard” is not a “Die Hard” movie. It’s an ugly, tired, dull action flick that regurgitates everything grand from the 1988 classic. It has no soul or point. It's an abomination. A cash grab by tired people who do not care anymore. Five minutes in I hated it. A tired Bruce Willis is “John McClane” -– quotes needed -– who bolts to Moscow to save his grown CIA agent son (Jai Courtney) stuck with a murder rap. The short of it: John and John go Roy Rogers on a pack of terrorists, one of whom eats carrots. Really. It all ends in Chernobyl in a swimming pool. Not joking. Actually, nothing here is funny. What’s worse: The Tea Party way director John Moore treats all foreigners as stupid trolls, or the way he turns McClane -– long ago scared, bleeding, but desperate to do right -– into some Stallone blockhead that the first film so beautifully refused? There is not even a delicious villain to root for. Twinkies were the food choice in 1988. This is a shit served cold. Yippee-ki-yay mother F.

Time Lock (1996)

“Time Lock” is the kind of awful where you laugh not at what’s on screen –- OK, I did a bit of that -– but at yourself for foolishly waiting for something good to occur, a hint of brains from the folks in the credits. No doing. 

First: There is no time lock in “Time Lock.” Rather, we’re in the “‘Die Hard’ on a …” genre, where the unlikely hero (comedian Arye Gross) is a computer hacker sent to a space asteroid prison that’s taken over by a ninja-type (Jeffrey Meek) out to free his criminal mentor (Jeff Speakman). Robert Munic directs with a sledgehammer, every scene garishly louder than it needs to be, and every actor off his leash to just go nuts and make it look good because no one wants to waste film. Gross cracks jokes, flails arms, and does tricks. Magic, I mean. Not sex acts. 

A WTF scene: Our hero sets ninja guy on fire -- fully engulfed -– and in the next scene the dude has not a hair out of place. I thought of “Highlander.” Even for 1990s low-brow sci-fi fluff, “Time Lock” is a time killer. D

Assault on Precinct 13 (1976)

John Carpenter’s cult-classic, >$100,000-budget action thriller “Assault of Precinct 13” is the parent to all “siege” movies that would come a decade later, including “Die Hard.” Itself a modern re-make of “Alamo”-type flicks, this also was to be set in the West, but Carpenter could not swing the budget. The bare plot: A mysterious pack of gang members attack a L.A. ghetto police station on the eve of its closure, trapping a stalwart African-American officer (Austin Stoker), several women, and convicted felons (including Darwin Joston) inside. “Assault” is a midnight feature that can play as a maybe-zombie film -– the gang members dabble with bowls of blood and are all but suicidal. Deep-thoughts: It’s a post-Vietnam American meltdown, or a satire on 1950s films that celebrated white heroics and all but demeaned blacks, flipped on its, middle finger held out proud. But the heck with deep anything, this is a blazin’ cool cheap “B” flick that excels its origins and is seriously nasty fun. The title, by the way, is infamously wrong. The besieged station is District 13, Precinct 9. “Assault of Precinct 9”? Hmmm. Na. “13.” B+

Lockout (2012)

Guy Pearce is the best thing in the ridiculously over-the-top “Lockout,” a “Die Hard” by way of “Escape from New York” salute that also heavily quotes “Star Wars” and low-grade genre fare a la “Fortress” and its sequels. Eye brows permanently arched and every line delivered with a wry tone, Pearce sells himself as an action star blatantly admitting, “I’m doing this for the money,” before we can argue, “He’s doing this for the money.” The plot: Superman CIA agent Snow (Pearce) is railroaded for dirty deeds and sentenced to a low-orbit prison space station where inmates are kept in comas. But, ye gods! On that very structure, the inmates have taken over and hold hostage none other than the daughter of the President of the United States. Only one man can save her: Snake Plissken! No. I kid. Snow. Also hostage: The one man who can prove our hero innocent. It’s that kind of film. With cheesy special effects, psycho villains so outrageously evil they hinder their own plans, and a free-fall climax that literally and figuratively crashes to Earth, laughs far outweigh chills. Thankfully, Pearce is ring master leading this big top circus. C+

Paul Blart: Mall Cop (2009)

“Paul Blart: Mall Cop” made $150 million at the box office in early 2009. Is America that bored? Kevin James stars as the fat hypoglycemic title character who desperately wishes to be a Jersey cop, but can barely stumble though a day at the mall without getting his ass kicked by a laaarge woman. (Every joke focuses on fat.) When gun-toting thieves take over the mall, Blart must grow a spine and save the day, even if it means eating a lollipop off the floor. “Die Hard” was funnier. Like its hero, the movie faints into embarrassing hypoglycemic sugar-starved fits for long periods of its 90-minute running time. Unlike the man, the movie never recovers. C