Hologram Man (1995)

Slash Gallagher. That’s the name of the bad guy in Hologram Man (1995), a sci-fi action techno-thriller from PM Entertainment Group. No doubt direct-to-video upon its release, watching it on a YouTube rip now, the film looks like television, yet has enough budget for multiple explosions and equipment to launch stunt people into the air against a wall of flames in the background. Now Slash Gallagher (played by Evan Lurie who also cowrote the movie) is a dreadlocked megalomaniac (resembling a buff Jonathan Davis from Korn) who in the opening of the movie takes his army of goons to assassinate a US senator as part of his “revolution.” In Slash’s way are by-the-book cop named Decoda (Joe Lara) and his partner (John Amos). After one action sequence that smashes up and detonates multiple cars on an inner-city main road, there’s now a vendetta relationship between Decoda and Slash, particularly when Slash is captured and sent to hologram prison. Flash forward five years, and now LA is even more futuristic with space-ship cars and eco-domes. Decoda is no longer by-the-book but a long-haired, rule-breaking maverick and Slash has broken out of the matrix and turned into a powerful electron based force… a Hologram Man if you will. 

Demolition Man is a clear influence here (and the film’s title is even name-dropped by a character) along with action sequences that recall moments from Robocop and Terminator 2 (the cocaine factory shoot-out and the truck freeway chase respectively). This is fun cyberpunk video trash that has it all: a VR training sequence that feels like a demo for a PC simulator, a corrupt corporation called CalCorp (short for “California Corporation”), character actors like William Sanderson and Tiny Lister as Slash’s henchmen, Michael Nouri from The Hidden as the power hungry governor, and Tron level effects that turn our muscular stars into video-effect body-suit wearing pixelated “holograms.” Lara resembles Nic Cage in Con Air but if he traded the white singlet for a yuppie suit, and Lurie has a haughty, over-the-top energy that is memorable. Directed by the king of PM cyber-action flicks, Richard Pepin (Cyber Tracker and T-Force) Recommended.

Last Man Standing (1996)

Last Man Standing (1996), Walter Hill’s remake of Yojimbo (already remade as A Fistful Of Dollars), is almost mythical yet reductively basic. Set in a ghost town named Jericho that nobody else lives in except for two gangs fighting over the same turf, a state of purgatory only destabilised by the arrival of a gun-for-hire played by Bruce Willis, ready to play one side against the other. It’s like Miller’s Crossing but blood simple; the only moves that are complicated in this plot are the bungee cords that yank the stuntmen through the air after they’ve been obliterated by Willis’ two handgun salute. I’ve always had a soft spot for this one ever since I saw it in the cinemas, marrying a 1930s gangster setting with old western cliches that Hill is in love with and the shoot-outs seemed styled after Hong Kong action cinema in the dual handguns and over-the-top stunt-work. Everything is shot in amber, dusty hues, like you’re looking at everything through stained beer glass. The visual style is also driven by Ry Cooder’s underrated, abrasive, swampy-guitar score. Classic character actors like Bruce Dern and William Sanderson play perfect western archetypes – the cranky sheriff and the trusty barkeep respectively. Christopher Walken turns in another great screen psycho – a scar and a tommy gun in tow – and then competes with Bruce Willis to see who can say their dialogue the quietest. Last Man Standing is obvious but effective, an old tale handsomely and satisfyingly presented in Hill’s sweaty, baroque style. Rented on iTunes. Recommended.