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2008 marks the ten-year anniversary of Steven Seagal’s direct-to-video career (the derogatory phrase for films that are not expected to have financial success, or attract great public interest). This is inevitable, some will think, given the general over-competence of Seagal’s on-screen character against none-too-intelligent antagonists -- a formula which has been in constant running ever since Nico Toscani was introduced to audiences back in 1988. Even now, making movies with younger, black hip-hop artists cannot save Seagal’s career from deteriorating, with audiences seemingly no longer willing to accept the archetype of the one-dimensional action star, as was more often the case some twenty years ago.

It would appear the invincible martial arts persona that Seagal had developed throughout his early years in film -- perhaps in hope that one day he'd get the freedom to do more risqué movies such as his "eco-thriller" Fire Down Below -- ultimately determined his fate as a fading action star. Since the late '90s, the new nice-guy ideal of blue-eyed boy Matt Damon has begun to take shape, with audiences preferring this to the cheesy wit, questionable dress sense and real-life martial arts training that action heroes like Seagal were once famous for during their prime.

As a result, we have this "new breed of action hero" that relates to modern day actors who aren't quite up for taking the muscle-bound roles. Matt Damon, and equally-as-bankable box office star Ben Affleck, are part of this new generation of Hollywood's leading stars who're soft in cheek, with limpid stares and wiry frames, glorifying the pampered nature of those men who prefer high street shopping with their women to scratching their balls on the sofa with a beer and a violent movie with their mates.

With this considered, you’re most likely to look at me with some sort of bewildering stare when I tell you I preferred Seagal's Fire Down Below to Damon's first outing as Jason Bourne, after recently viewing both films in a single evening. Admittedly, “An amnesiac attempting to discover the truth of his identity amidst a conspiracy involving the CIA,” (Bourne Identity) sounds much more appealing than “The peaceful Appalachian hills of Kentucky where toxins are being dumped into abandoned mines,” (FDB) if you choose to look at the synopsises firsthand. But hold on a minute, let me explain.

What was most entertaining (at least to me) in the aforementioned Seagal movie was the unintentionally funny sight of him displaying an endless selection of leather trench coats, attempting to act a good Samaritan to all the townsfolk, bursting into a Church and delivering a speech on pro-environmentalism, and then proceeding to kick the crap out of a bunch of stupid rednecks in typical over-the-top fashion. Contrasting Jason Bourne’s overly-choreographed stunts, uninspiring search for his lost identity and his similarly-underwhelming “talents” in linguistics, I have to admit that I drifted off into a twelve-hour sleep before I even made it to the end credits of the latter film.

It is why I've come to the conclusion that it is more appropriate to call Matt Damon the "Quorn identity", in that he has the ingredients to be potentially good for you, but he lacks the certain blood and guts edge of a good meal. Call me carnivorous, but I like my action dirty: I need people to get ripped to shreds without the necessity of an in-depth storyline; I need villains to be idiotically stereotyped without an emphasis upon political correctness; and goddammit, I need Steven Seagal’s swaying ponytail to be the limit of a meat-head's emotional development on my television screen.

Give it five years and audiences will be reprising Seagal’s role as planet-saver Jake Taggart via a strong cult following, without a mention of that young whippersnapper Jason Bourne anywhere (O.K., maybe not, but at least I can still dream). In truth, it would be slightly "over the top" for even a dedicated action movie buff such as myself to even think that the future is bright for the genre. Considering the extensive nature that beauty products are being applied to actors like Damon in a bid to increase the female action fanbase, these are worrying times.

As well as Seagal’s shelved career, other favourite action heroes from the same period are on their last legs.
Schwarzenegger has put on a fair bit of weight since his stint in politics and looks unlikely to make main billing in action films; Van Damme and Dolph Lungren obsess way much over the Universal Soldier franchise; and Chuck Norris has always made shit movies. Even Nicolas Cage, former on-screen hero in films such as Face/Off, Con Air and The Rock, and Sigourney Weaver as alien-destroyer Ellen Ripley, have left their action days well and truly behind.

Though Bruce Willis did a decent job keeping fans on the edges of their seats in Die Hard 4.0, my only faith really is with old-school action heavyweight Sylvester Stallone. 2006 saw him extend the success of one of the most memorable characters in cinema history, Rocky Balboa; by showing ambition with an already credited formula, he provided a much needed wake-up call to the people that thought the traditional action hero was dead and buried. Even more so two years later with Rambo exploding back into cinemas, I'd like to think younger generations who grew up on pretty boy action heroes like Damon at the very least began re-assessing the qualities of the leading role in action movies.

Unfortunately, movies like the three mentioned are few and far between. Iron-jawed action heroes like the Seagals, Stallones, Schwarzeneggers, Willis', etc. are in short demand. Whether this is a result of the popularity of the metrosexual male having an affect upon today’s screenwriting, because audiences aren’t buying into the traditional formula as much as they used to, or both of these reasons, is up for further debate. What is certain, though (to me at least), given the choice between a movie starring Matt Damon or Ben Affleck and a movie starring Steven Seagal or Sylvester Stallone, I know which one I’d bank on for entertainment value.

(C) Andy Carrington, 2008.