Jean-Claude Van Damme gets totally out of character in this action blockbuster smash hit: he’s a mullet wearing homeless loser living on the streets of New Orleans who will do anything for a buck or two. He’s also a way more sensitive Van Damme than you’re probably used to seeing. This lady hires him to help find her pops (who’s also a goddamn transient, by the way), and VD acts like he wants to help find this girl’s missing hobo father so much that he’ll kick the crap out of anyone he thinks might have some answers. In reality, he just wants to bang her, but he pretends he cares about finding her dead-beat garbage digging dad, and goes through all the motions, just so he can get some non-sewer grubbing lady ass. He’s a trash pirate, and its been a really long time since he got laid, so it makes sense he’d jump through all these hoops here.
After investigating for a while, he finds out her bridge camper of a dad got hunted down by a bunch of old foreign guys for sport, and stuck through the neck with an arrow so they can hang his head up on their trophy wall.
This group of foreign jags is led by Bishop and the Mummy, so it’s not looking good for Van Damme here, these guys really don’t mess around. They kill urban pioneers for fun, so Van Damme already has a big fucking target on his head. But guess what? He isn’t your average garbage humper, he can jump and kick and drive motorcycles off of bridges and he really turns the tables on these jerk off foreigners.
At the end of the movie, he shoves a grenade down Bishop’s pants and just watches as the dude’s batch gets blown off. This part always really got to me. Its like, you can stick the grenade anywhere on this guy and he’ll get blown the fuck up, so, do you really have to make this poor bastard, in his last few seconds of life, think about how his gonads are gonna get shredded to pieces first? I guess being a snake eating trash monger of a bum for so long made Van Damme pretty fucking cold blooded. That is, unless you’re some hot girl with a missing boxcar father. Then he’s mister fucking sensitive, and he’s all like “hush childe, we gonna fine your daddee.”
This movie made me look at dumpster divers a little differently. I mean, if Van Damme could turn into a Cardboard Charlie then it could pretty much happen to any of us. So, the next time you see a trash-pail pan handler, just look in your heart a little, and maybe give him a quarter, or at least a thumbs up or something. Cause they’re already living on the streets, eating garbage and rats or whatever, and now they gotta worry that maybe, just maybe, a group of foreign shit heads is gonna come hunt them down in the middle of the night and take their heads for trophies. So give those gutter hounds a break.