First things first, I love John McClane. Easily one of my favorite movie characters of all time, I would probably be entertained watching him run around and fight an eagle scout troop with a squirt gun and tiddlywinks. Twenty years after its release, I still find the first film in this series the greatest action flick of all time. Fully aware of and frankly, embracing these biases, I'm reviewing "Live Free or Die Hard". The fourth entry in the saga finds the ever-hungover street cop with really bad luck [Bruce Willis] divorced, spying on a daughter that won't speak to him, and back at his strangely inconspicuous position as a NYPD detective. You'd figure that the man that has foiled three of the biggest terrorist plots in US history would've at least got the bump to Sargent... Sorry, I'll try not to think. Our underemployed anti-hero is given the task of picking up a hacker [the iMac guy] and bringing him into FBI headquarters for questioning after it becomes evident that a cyber terrorist attack of epic proportions is being levied against our great nation on July 4th [queue Old Glory waving while Credence blares]. Since this is not a philosophical work on the dangers of technological dependence, bullets fly, stuff blows up, and McClane's shirt mutates from white to a deep shade of swamp turd brown. Does he save the day, the country, and the obligatory member of his immediate family? Hahaha. Come on.
While definitely a worthy, entertaining installment in the franchise, "Live Free" is not without its faults. McClane's exploits stray far into the superhuman (taking out a helicopter with a fire hydrant, jumping onto the wings of a Harrier jet, flying a military helicopter across three states without training). That's not John McClane. The charm of the first 2 movies was that although this guy gets a lot of breaks, and avoids certain death well over 50 times a film, everything he does can conceivably occur. He's not a steroid fueled Austrian immigrant Superman, he's Joe Six Pack, outgunned and reluctant, but willing because it's his job. I can look past these decisions as grandiose moviemaking. What I can't look past is changing the essence of the lead character. McClane usually enters these cinematic battles with two things: huge balls, and an incredibly foul, but witty mouth. Only the balls are here, albeit in spades. Several times during the movie, you can actually see the actors mouth dialogue much less kiddie friendly than the audio provides, an obvious result of the studio's decision to pursue a PG-13 rating after shooting had wrapped to appeal to a wider audience. This often leaves you feeling that you're watching the film on TNT instead of a theater cut. Even McClane's trademark cowboy cry felt somewhat altered. When making a Die Hard film, that's blasphemy.