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STALLONE! NORRIS! BRONSON! D-Douglas...? Yeah, okay, he's better known for nosediving
into Sharon Stone's *** briar patch than droppin' bad guys with a snub-nosed. It's
never too late to find yourself. *Ahem* In the unemployment line, but let's not mince
words on the subject of 1989's Ridley Scott celluloid symphony:
Steeped in Tokyo neon and swimming in '80s synthesizer, next to the testostero-kinetic
sherman tank that is COBRA... Black Rain may well be the most sleek, stylish, balls-out,
unrepentently '80s action movie ever burned to a piece of film.
How unrepentently '80s, you inquire? Watch, and marvel at the inadequacy of the
21st century!
And, yes, perched behind the
Casio for this film's soundtrack is the omnipresent 'Hans Zimmer', at least 2 decades prior to
forgetting that film soundtracks... can have more than two *** notes!
And whatever orifice goes unpenetrated by the neon pink phallus of this film's opening...
Black Rain's COVER... is ready and willing to *** defile!
BOSS Mullet? Check. Leather jacket? CHECK. Half-burned cigarette? Badass motorcycle?
AVIATOR *** SUNGLASSES? Check, Check, and more check! If after beholding the majesty
that is this box cover, you aren't currently browsing amazon to purchase this film... we
cannot possibly be friends. How do you perfect perfection? By opening
up the film with a *** motorcycle race! As gorgeous as it is gratuitous, it contributes
less than nothing to the plot... and if you dare to cut it out of this film... I will
cut you out of the kingdom of man. Does Michael Douglas win? Irrelevant. The man monged on
Sharon Stone's slatchtrap in her prime. He wins at life. *** the motorcycle race and
*** you too! After which, the... following scene depicts
Michael Douglas dropping his kids off after a court-ordered visit. But does this drain
even an ounce of Nicky Conklin's badassery? *** no! Kids come from ***' broads! And
Michael Douglas gets more gash than a manic depressive in a razorblade foundry. Unfortunately,
children also mean expensive body disposal fee-- *ahem* BILLS. Yes... yes, b-bills. So
it turns out Major Mullet has been skimming what little cream he didn't leave inside Sharon
Stone. "We did the math, 'hero'. You're at least
$1,000 a month in the hole. You're into the shylocks you're taking."
"Hey, you wanna' charge, okay, you CHARGE me. You wanna' jerk off, you go back to your
office." "We'll charge you. Someone'll help us out.
Nobody's got a softer center than a dirty cop."
"You want dirt?! You go to City Hall, huh?! Or Police Plaza! The whole *** system's
fallin' apart, and you're bustin' MY ***?!!" "Dammit! You're lucky I don't confiscate your
badge and gun right now! I'm TELLING you, Assy! You're skating on VERY thin ice around
here!" "That sounds like the ice's problem."
Nicky throws the feds off his scent by cozying up in a Mob joint with the only partner who's
greasier than his meal. Within minutes, the Yakuza stride in with a 9mm lesson in courtesy.
After giving an old man a rubdown, one of the mobsters reaches into his clothing, and
yanks out his short, stubby, brown package. Ha... Ha.
The man's name is Sato, but from here in, I shall be referring to him as 'crazy-eyes'.
"JEEEEZUS!" Needless to say, crazy-eyes promptly filéts
the *** like a side of dog. Jesus ***, talk about unstable! Is this guy a mobster
or a Japanese nuclear reactor? Nickie and Charlie are having none of it, however, and
proceed to pluggin' these ***. They make a daring escape of 20 entire yards before
doing their best possible Nick Hogan impression. Sato flees into a New York City slaughterhouse...
presumably to escape the stench of hobo urine, with Nicky in hot pursuit and--
Sato- SATO! His name is Douglas, not Carradine! Charlie shows up with the cavalry just in
time for foreplay, and then--
"Ohhhh... ma... OHHHHH... You-- YOU'RE GONNA' DIIIEEE!!"
They haul crazy-eyes in for ***, but before the inmates at Riker's can even assign him
a *** name, the Japanese embassy demands he be tried by the same Japanese Justice System
that allows Issei Sagawa - a convicted serial killer and professed cannibal - to walk ***
free! Well, ***, how could this possibly go wrong?!
Nicky does, however, secure the right to lug his *** back to Japan, along with the opportunity
to do this: "What happened, Nick?"
"I dunno', man. He got a-- he bit his lip or somethin'... Your seat belt tight for you?"
...before lingering on a camera shot so '80s, it full-on drops to its ***' knees and
begs to be accompanied by a keytar riff! [Keytar Riff blares]
Upon arriving in Osaka, the police promptly abscond with Crazy-Eyes... OR DO THEY?!?!
"Detective Conklin? I am Inspector Yamada, Osaka Prefecture--"
"Son of a ***!" Nicky and Charlie leg it on over to the local
station for an audience with the division chief, where the only police blockades are
evidently of the language variety. "I just hope they've got a Nip in this building
who speaks ***' English!" "Inspector Matsumoto Masuhiro, Criminal Investigations
Section, Osaka Prefecture of Police... and I DO speak ***'English."
Okay then! Given that the prisoner was never officially
signed into Japanese custody, it turns out it's still technically Nicky's case, which
cannot possibly be the way criminal justice actually works! On the mean streets of Osaka,
Japan, Nicky investigates a recent crime scene while Ridley Scott forgets he isn't filming
Blade Runner! "The superintendent thanks you very much.I've
been ordered to escort you back to your hotel." "I usually get kissed... BEFORE... I get ***."
[Keytar riff blares] While Hans Zimmer reacquaints himself with
his synthesizer, Nicky spots Joyce, or alternately, the lone character in this film that isn't
shot entirely in sihouette! "You see, there's a war going on, here, and
they don't take prisoners." "What are you talkin' about?"
"...between Sato and an old-time boss. A guy named 'Sugai'."
"Who knows about this?" "Counting you and me? Eleven million."
[Keytar riff blares] Damn. That's almost an entire Mormon family.
Which perhaps explains why, upon returning to the streets of L.A., circa 2019, Michael
Douglas has slipped into his moody-pants. "Let's go,Charlie.Come on!"
"You will have a long walk home." "Fine. If I get lost, we'll call a COP!"
"OHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! That motha--" "Oh! That one parkin' up my ***!"
With Nicky obviously being visited by his 'Aunt Flo', He and Chaz elect to meander alone
down what has to be the only abandoned stretch of sidewalk on the entire Japanese mainland.
At which point, a gaggle of grown-*** men on flimsy, fiberglass crotch-rockets materialize
from the mists of '80s special effects, and drive around them in a semi-circle, hooping
like Xena: Warrior Princess, with Party City novelty flags flapping in the breeze behind
them! Before bugging out so quickly, you'd swear they just attacked a naval installation.
Apparently, rageaholics: This is what a motorcycle gang looked like in 1980's Osaka. To think:
People actually question Japan's masculinity! Back at the police station where competence
goes to die, Nicky and Chaz spot what appears to be a SWAT raid in the making, and decide
their belligerence, chain-smoking and complete ignorance of Japanese language and culture
leaves them uniquely qualified to tag along. Busting in on a Yakuza bath house, Nicky spots
a familiar dumpy, diaper-bedecked homunculus from the airport and performs an interrogation
as only he can. "Hi, sweetheart. You remember me, don't you?"
"I only wanna' talk to the man for five minutes! That's all I wanna' do...!"
"You must learn patience!" "Oh, *** patience."
[Keytar riff blares] In the aftermath, they discover crisp currency
from at least three separate countries, including U.S. dollars, y'know... back when those were
worth the paper they were printed on. Which, upon palming a few from the table behind the
chief's back while he's busy gargling with cement, it turns out is exactly what they're
printed on. When he happens upon Masumoto practicing his fencing, y'know... for all
those Japanese swordfights you so frequently saw in an '80s urban environment.
"I will have no more to do with you. You have dishonored me and our department. I saw you
take the money." "It's you and your self-righteous ***,
man, that's gonna' cost me my *** job! Hey-- Hey, I'm talkin' to you!"
"If you pull it... you'd better use it." [Keytar Riff Wails]
After explaining to Matsumoto and the chief that the bills were phonier than Anita Sarkeesian's
gaming credentials... this *** happens. "You guys have got a Counterfeiting War going
on, and YOU, pal... should talk to your partner before you go to the suits, okay? So ***
you very much!" [Keytar Riff Wails]
...after a bar scene that's a painful as... well, as any evening of karaoke, Nicky and
Chaz head back to their hotel, where Charlie remembers it's the second act in an '80s action
film, and therefore time for the portagonist's partner to die.
"You wanna' play? You an' me. Come on! COME ON! Right here! Come on! Come on! That's it--
that's it! Come on! Right here! HEY! ***!" "Good, Charlie! Haha!"
"It's got my ***' passport! Come here, you little ***!"
"Ah, Jesus Christ..." The mysterious biker calls for reinforcements
velociraptor-style, wherein it's revealed that the architect behind the coat-theft was
none other than Crazy-Eyes himself. And, well *** the *** I said about urban swordfights,
because I believe we can all see ***'s about to get decidedly real.
"GET OUT OF THERE!" "CHAAARRLIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!"
In the surprise of the microsecond, Charlie's neck and skull have a parting of the ways.
Still, somehow less violent than Charlie Sheen's last three break-ups, and much like the aforementioned
Estevez progeny, Nicky's solution is to crawl inside a bottle of ***, which is in turn
located in a leggy blonde's ***. Masumoto swings by to offer his respects, and, as a
matter of Japanese tradition, offer him exactly one item of the departed's property. Leading
to perhaps the most Blood Dragon moment outside of playing *** Blood Dragon!
"I can take... anything I want?" "Anything."
You are now pregnant with this film's child. "I want to go back... to Sato's hideout, okay?
Just you and me." Back at the bad guys' hideout, Black Rain
checks yet another box that all great action films must, when it's revealed that the two
warring oyabun are holed up in a factory whose chief export appears to be hot lava, sparks,
and ***. Tailing Crazy-eyes from the meeting, the home-viewing
audience learn that the only thing better than a shootout... or a chase scene... is
a shootout that turns into a chase scene! ...and I'm just thinking out loud, here, but...
do bikers spontaneously erupt into flame when shot in the chest, or is that just an Osaka
thing? With Michael Douglas's attempts to corner
Crazy-Eyes coming up shorter than... well, than Michael Douglas, he strikes a deal with
the rival oyabun, to ambush and *** the shitbag as he returns from a yakuza pinkie-snipping.
This, my friends, is when Black Rain takes a turn for the badass.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaand Japan is gone. No, seriously, handing Michael Douglas a shotgun,
seven shells and a license to kill is like handing Mel Gibson a case of smirnoff, an
SUV and a Nazi armband. Why not just rename this guy's biceps 'fat man' and 'little boy',
while you're at it? Of course, Sugai's double-cross soon becomes
a triple-cross, when Crazy-Eyes disguises his own agents as rice farmers in an attempt
to take over the entire Yakuza. And then? *** BLOWS UP!
Sato flees on - YOU GUESSED IT - a *** motorcycle! You know... if you consider a
Suzuki to actually be a motorcycle. After a well-shot, but otherwise lackluster motorbike
chase that barely registers on our scale from 1-to-Death Race, Michael Douglas thunders
ahead and trips his candy *** quarry for a proper, hand-to-hand confrontation that lends
personification to the phrase 'Be Careful What You *** WISH FOR, MICHAEL DOUGLAS!'
Like all asian antagonists in western films, Sato implicitly knows kung-***'-fu!
Oh, but you know that *** ain't gonna' stand. Rageaholics, I will now cease with the speechifyin'
because it is *** imperative that you absorb Michael Douglas's comeback in all its
keytar-drenched *** MAJESTY! Michael Douglas pounds this *** like a
black man in L.A. on a routine traffic stop! With the pendulum swinging wider than Michael
Douglas's balls, and decidedly in 'murica's favor, he grips the ***... he carries him
to a conveniently-placed, perfectly impale-ready spike aaaaaaaaand...
Oh, you have got to be *** me! You had this prick 5 feet from a pre-made Mortal Kombat
fatality! 'Down, Down, Up, High Punch', ***!
As someone who's spent considerable time in Japan and speaks fluent Japanese, allow me
to translate:
Black Rain is a 'cliché '80s action film' in which all the partners don't die, the main
character doesn't get the girl, and where the movie doesn't conclude with the antagonist
exploded, impaled, or ground up in anything! Look, I won't pretend Black Rain is the finest
film Ridley Scott has produced. It's no Alien and it's no Blade Runner. But its inky, painterly
aesthetic, flagrant machismo, and raw '80s style set it well apart from the rank and
file action picture. Rock this movie like Michael Douglas rocks
a mullet and *** aviators! I'm RazörFist!
どうぞよろしくお願いします。