{"id":50489,"date":"2023-12-04T12:39:34","date_gmt":"2023-12-04T18:39:34","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.davidbordwell.net\/blog\/?p=50489"},"modified":"2023-12-06T13:15:38","modified_gmt":"2023-12-06T19:15:38","slug":"die-hard-revived-an-entry-revisited","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.davidbordwell.net\/blog\/2023\/12\/04\/die-hard-revived-an-entry-revisited\/","title":{"rendered":"DIE HARD revived: An entry revisited"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Die Hard<\/strong> (1988).<\/em><\/p>\n

David’s health situation has made it difficult for our household to maintain this blog. We don’t want it to fade away, though, so we’ve decided to select previous entries from our backlist to republish. These are items that chime with current developments or that we think might languish undiscovered among our 1094\u00a0entries over now 17 years (!). We hope that we will introduce new readers to our efforts and remind loyal readers of entries they may have once enjoyed.<\/em><\/p>\n

Today’s revival responds to the return of Die Hard<\/strong> to theater screens<\/a> in time for Christmas. Since our original posting in 2019 (“Not just a Christmas movie”<\/a>), this supreme action picture has further cemented its reputation as a yuletide favorite (although it was originally released in July). Happy holidays from the Nakatomi Corporation!<\/em><\/p>\n

DB here:<\/p>\n

It\u2019s been quite a fall season<\/a> for UW\u2013Madison film culture. There were visits from avant-garde legend Larry Gottheim<\/strong>, New York Times<\/em> co-chief film critic Manohla Dargis<\/strong>, Schawn Belston<\/strong> (Senior VP of Mastering at Disney), and Julia Reichert<\/strong>, whose American Factory<\/em> is now routinely turning up on ten-best lists. The semester\u2019s first screening at our Cinematheque was Kiril Mkhanosvsky\u2019s Give Me Liberty<\/em>, a Milwaukee movie also gracing year-end best lists. Our programs included restored films by African pioneer Paulin Soumanou Vieyra, retrospectives of Reichert and Kiarostami, a 3D double feature of\u00a0Revenge of the Creature<\/em> and Parasite<\/em>\u00a0(no, the other one), a program of early women directors in America, a selection of films conserved by the Chicago Film Society, and a miscellany ranging from Olivia<\/em> and Near Dark<\/em> to Tropical Malady<\/em> and Red Rock West<\/em>.<\/p>\n

Travels to festivals, partly covered in our blog entries, forced us to miss too many of these shows. But we couldn\u2019t miss the final one: Die Hard<\/em> (1988).<\/p>\n

It\u2019s a film I\u2019ve admired since I first saw it in summer of 1988. I\u2019ve taught it in many classes, but never written about it. Seeing it again, in a pretty 35mm print from the Chicago Film Society, has made me want to say a few things as my final blog entry for this busy year.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The man between<\/strong><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Think-piece pundits like to say that Hollywood movies are about good guys versus bad guys. But usually things are more complicated. Very often the good guy is an outsider caught between two large-scale forces, good or bad or both\u2013the cattle ranchers versus the townspeople, or the mob versus the cops. Often the protagonist is an outlier, forced to solve the problem using means that respectable social forces can\u2019t.<\/p>\n

Call it the problem of the House Democrats. When the lawbreaker can\u2019t be brought to justice, how do you make him pay? The answer is one that William S. Hart movies provided in the 1910s. We need a \u201cgood bad man,\u201d a rogue agent who knows the scheme from the inside but is willing to do the right thing. Which means that he has to be flawed too, a little or a lot, and that he can eventually reform.<\/p>\n

In Die Hard<\/em>, the forces of law and order line up as the Los Angeles police and the FBI. The threat is Hans Gruber\u2019s gang, \u00a0posing as terrorists but actually planning to rob the Nakatomi Corporation of $640 million in bearer bonds and kill lots of hostages in the process. The naive TV broadcasters support both, recycling official scenarios of how hostage-taking works and reinforcing the gang\u2019s masquerade as a terrorist group.<\/p>\n

The contrasts are marked. The forces of order are American, in alliance with a Japanese company, while the attackers are Europeans. At the start, we hear \u00a0American music (the rap played by the limo driver Argyle), but Hans hums Beethoven. The cops\u2019 technology notably fails, as when the assault vehicle and a helicopter are consumed by firepower. But the gang\u2019s hi-tech expert Theo can crack the vault, assisted by Hans\u2019 plan to push the Feds to cut the building power.<\/p>\n

Above all, the forces of social order are strikingly inept, while the gang is ruthlessly efficient. Unlike the police, who \u201crun the terrorist playbook,\u201d Hans boasts that he has left nothing to chance. The cops can\u2019t imagine an adversary that exploits the official by-the-book procedures. As for the business types, Takagi\u2019s calm bluff and Ellis\u2019s freewheeling jargon can\u2019t cope with a gang leader who doesn\u2019t get the Art of the Deal.<\/p>\n

Clearly, America and Japan need help.\u00a0That appears in the form of John McClane, the cop from the East Coast trapped in Nakatomi Plaza.<\/p>\n

McClane is the man between, spatially and strategically. He witnesses the action from inside the skyscraper, and bit by bit he figures out the gang\u2019s real scenario. And he\u2019s caught between both forces. The gang tries to find and kill him, while the cops refuse to recognize him as an ally. Confronting Karl\u2019s brother early on teaches McClane that he can\u2019t play by procedure. (\u201cThere are rules for policemen,\u201d says a thug who doesn\u2019t believe in rules.) The LAPD\u2019s ineptitude shows that McClane can\u2019t expect help on that front. So he must become almost as reckless as his adversary, though in a virtuous cause. This principally means blowing stuff up.<\/p>\n

McClane isn\u2019t totally without resources. He has as helpers Al, the desk cop who comes on the scene and sustains his morale, and Argyle, who\u2019s there to play a crucial role at the climax. But mostly he\u2019s alone in facing problems. He needs weapons. He needs shoes. He needs to protect the hostages, most of all his wife Holly, who has climbed up the corporate ladder. (In another movie, she would be the in-between protagonist.) To keep Holly from becoming a bargaining chip, McClane needs to hide his identity. And he needs to figure out the gang\u2019s ultimate plan, of seeding the rooftop with explosives that will destroy the building and cover their escape.<\/p>\n

John\u2019s solutions are notably low-tech. While the police and the gang depend on advanced firepower and computer finagling, McClane lashes an explosive to a desk chair and uses a fire hose as a rope. He has to improvise shoes by taping a maxi-pad to a bleeding foot. No holster for your automatic? How about some Christmas wrapping tape? And don\u2019t forget to taunt your adversaries with Yankee wisecracks.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

In the course of this drama, the very physical McClane becomes a model for his allies. Holly punches the reporter who revealed John\u2019s identity, and Argyle cold-cocks Theo at the point of getaway. Most dramatically Al kills the revived Karl when he\u2019s about to plug McClane. The people in between take up arms.<\/p>\n

McClane and his allies solve the House Democrats\u2019 problem. Law can\u2019t be lawless, even in protecting itself. Business, always aiming at the bottom line, has to give up principles. (\u201cPearl Harbor didn\u2019t work out, so we got you with tape decks.\u201d) These forces of social order are inefficient, trusting, and superficial. They can\u2019t stand up to sheer brutal onslaught. In a crisis they will fold, or simply choose the nuclear option: agents Johnson and Johnson are ready to lose a big chunk of hostages.<\/p>\n

McClane is a mediating figure that permits the film to show you can be strategically lawless for the sake of lawfulness. The fly in the ointment, the monkey in the wrench, screws up plans on both sides, but for the benefit of everyone else.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The Big Dumb Action Picture isn\u2019t so dumb<\/strong><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

This thick array of thematic parallels would be interesting in itself, but it gets worked out through precise storytelling. There was a time when critics knocked action movies as simply ragbag assortments of fights, chases, and explosions. Die Hard<\/em>, I think, changed ideas of just how well-wrought an action picture could be. About 53 minutes of it consist of physical action (including people sneaking around), leaving almost 70 minutes for other stuff: suspense, changing goals, surprise information, attention to parallel plotlines, and little moments like the thief pilfering candy just before an ambush.<\/p>\n

The film typifies tidy classical Hollywood construction, beginning with an arrival (the jet) and ending with a departure (the McClanes in a limo). In between we get a big dose of the classic double plotline, romance and work. Holly\u2019s job at Nakatomi threatens their marriage, and John takes on a temp job, that of fighting the gang, which also endangers the couple\u2019s efforts to reconcile.<\/p>\n

For every Superman, there\u2019s a Kryptonite, and here the protagonist\u2019s flaws include his fear of heights (set up in the second shot, reiterated throughout) and, more importantly, his resistance to Holly\u2019s independence. By the end, he\u2019s learned a lesson. The film\u2019s streak of male sentimentality allows John to ask his wife\u2019s forgiveness for blocking her career ambition. She\u2019s ready to compromise too, reassuming his last name when she meets Al. The characters we care about change, at least a little. That could be the motto of most classical Hollywood plots.<\/p>\n

As usual, we get crosscutting among several lines of action. John\u2019s arrival is crosscut with Holly at work fending off Ellis, and in the rest of the film the gang\u2019s stratagems are intercut with the cops\u2019 plans and McClane\u2019s efforts. At various points, five or six actions are alternating with one another.<\/p>\n

All these escalating situations cluster into distinct parts, the four that Kristin has argued for as typical of Hollywood architecture.<\/p>\n

The Setup<\/strong> runs about 33 minutes, culminating in the murder of Takagi and Hans\u2019s promise that he can open the vault.<\/p>\n

The Complicating Action<\/strong>, a counter-setup, coalesces around John\u2019s goals of communicating with outsiders, avoiding capture, and attacking the thieves when he can. Through many chases and fights, the gang seeks to block all these efforts. The lines converge when John shoots Marco and tosses his body onto Al\u2019s car. He gains the bag with the detonators, giving him the upper hand. Then the TV reporter gets involved, the cops arrive, and John is ordered to wait. Things seem to be stabilized.<\/p>\n

After this midpoint, the Development<\/strong> supplies what Kristin calls \u201caction, suspense, and delay.\u201d Officer Dwayne Robinson arrives, pitting himself against Al and McClane. We can regard the police assault, Ellis\u2019s clumsy attempt to broker a deal, and the arrival of the FBI men as a series of delays that endanger the stability of the standoff. At the end of this section, John meets Hans (posing as an escaped hostage): now both men know each other. And in the firefight that follows, John loses the detonators. Hans declares, \u201cWe\u2019re back in business,\u201d and the original plan can go forward.<\/p>\n

The last twenty-five minutes constitute the Climax<\/strong>, launched by McClane\u2019s \u201cdarkest moment.\u201d He seems utterly beaten. Picking glass shards out of his feet, he gives Al a message for Holly over the CB radio. Al tells of his own burden, the accidental shooting of a child. The stakes are now very high.<\/p>\n

Rapid crosscutting shows John finding the bombs on the roof and fighting with Karl, while the FBI helicopter attacks the building and Hans discovers that Holly is John\u2019s wife. John stampedes the hostages down the stairs off the roof and escapes the strafing from the chopper before it blows. Argyle dispatches Theo, while John finds the surviving gang members in the atrium and shoots Hans, who falls to his death.<\/p>\n

In the Epilogue<\/strong>, Al and John meet, Al dispatches Karl, Holly socks the newsman, and John and Holly drive off with Argyle.<\/p>\n

These parts present a tight, logically building plot composed of swiftly changing situations. Along the way we encounter a great many motifs that create echoes or contrasts. Everyone notices the Rolex, at first a symbol of Holly\u2019s talents but also of corporate swagger; only by unfastening it can they let Hans drop from the window. When Argyle floats the possibility that Holly will rush back into John\u2019s arms for a movie ending, John murmurs: \u201cI can live with that.\u201d Agent Johnson speaks the same line, but for him it means an acceptable level of civilian casualties.<\/p>\n

Holly\u2019s unmarried name, Gennero, shows how a motif can develop in relation to the drama. At first it\u2019s a sign of pride in her own identity (typical corporation, Nakatomi has misspelled it on the touch screen). Her name-change triggers the couple\u2019s quarrel, but it has another narrative use: It conceals John\u2019s identity from Hans. And at the end he introduces her to Al as Gennero but she reasserts her love by correcting him: \u201cHolly McClane.\u201d<\/p>\n

Then there are differences of class and country. Hans reads Forbes<\/em>, but McClane the US boomer references Roy Rogers and Jeopardy<\/em>. (Hans is so unplugged from pop culture he thinks John Wayne was in High Noon<\/em>.) Argyle the former cab driver and Al the cop know the downside of city life, but so does John the New York detective, who adapts Roy\u2019s trademark phrase to the mean streets: \u201cYippee-ki-yay, motherfucker.\u201d<\/p>\n

Even a conventional Hollywood gesture, that of attacking a picture of a loved one, acquires a nifty plot function. Annoyed at John, Holly slaps down the family portrait on her shelf. Good thing too, because otherwise Hans would have seen it during the invasion. We\u2019re reminded of that picture when in a moment of quiet John looks at the same snapshot in his wallet. Only after Hans has encountered John is he able to flip the portrait back up and realize that Holly is the \u201csomeone you do<\/em> care about.\u201d<\/p>\n

There are lots more felicities like these\u2013so many that I\u2019d consider Die Hard<\/em> a \u201chyperclassical film,\u201d a movie that\u2019s more classically constructed than it needs to be. It spills out all these links and echoes in a fever of virtuosity. Hard to believe that the makers started shooting without a finished script.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Intensified continuity, personalized<\/strong><\/p>\n

Die Hard<\/em> is a good example of a stylistic approach I\u2019ve called \u201cintensified continuity.\u201d It\u2019s a modification of the classical method of staging, shooting, and cutting scenes. Here director John McTiernan and DP Jan de Bont tweak that approach in distinctive and powerful ways. You can find examples all the way through the movie, but I\u2019ll draw most of my illustrations from the first hour, when the stylistic premises get laid out for us.<\/p>\n

Cutting speeds accelerated sharply in Hollywood films from the 1960s onward, and for its time, Die Hard<\/em> was a rapidly-cut movie. The average shot runs just under five seconds, about what you\u2019d get in a 1920s silent film. By today\u2019s standards, which fall more in the 3-4 second range (even for movies outside the action genre), it\u2019s a bit sedate.<\/p>\n

One factor that increases the cutting pace is a greater reliance on singles and close-ups. These are tighter than we\u2019d expect in most studio films of the classic era.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Even in close-up, the shots aren\u2019t snipped free of their surroundings, thanks to the wide frame and layers of focus\u2013both important in the film\u2019s overall style, as we\u2019ll see.<\/p>\n

Likewise, intensified continuity exploits\u00a0a greater range of lens lengths than we\u2019d find in studio films of the classic era. We get wide-angle shots like those above along with telephoto shots throughout. Here the long lens is used to pile up people around Holly, and an even longer lens shows her optical viewpoint on the bandits in the office.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

And there\u2019s a free-roaming camera, thanks chiefly to Steadicam technology. But interestingly, Die Hard<\/em> avoids some of today\u2019s most common camera movements, such as shooting a fixed conversation with a sidewise or circular tracking shot. These would become more common in the 1990s.<\/p>\n

McTiernan thought a lot about his camera movements, as he explains in interviews and the commentary track on the DVD. He wanted to shape spectators\u2019 attention, to use camera movement to nudge things into view. \u201cThe audience\u2019s eye wants to go with you.\u201d Accordingly, more than in many contemporary films, Die Hard<\/em>\u2018s camera movements have a shape: they end on a point of information.<\/p>\n

Sometimes it\u2019s just a quick pan, doing duty for a cut. At other times,\u00a0the reframing is a gentle nudge that prepares for a new scenic element, as when Holly enters her office.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

In shooting Predator<\/em> (1987), McTiernan wanted to cut moving shots together, but his editor resisted. For Die Hard<\/em>, he refilmed his camera movements at different rates so that two would match. A good example is when Karl\u2019s brother strides carefully into an area under construction. The camera tracks with him, but when he turns to find the source of a whining noise, the arcing movement at the end of one shot is picked up in the next as the framing circles to reveal the saw.<\/p>\n

\"\"\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0<\/a>\"\"<\/a>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0<\/a>\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

That reveal is given, characteristically, in rack focus. I could have added rack focus as another featured technique of intensified continuity. McTiernan and de Bont take it very far, making Die Hard<\/em> one of the great rack-focus movies. The image is constantly shifting focus to guide our attention to the changing layers of the scene.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\"\"<\/a>\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

This neat, compact presentation not only preserves the commitment to long-lens close-ups we find in intensified continuity. The technique also gives each rack focus the snapping force of a cut. (And you don\u2019t need to build big sets.) Needless to say, the rack-focusing wouldn\u2019t work if McTiernan hadn\u2019t committed himself to staging his action in depth. More on this below.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Staging in \u2018Scope<\/strong><\/p>\n

Die Hard<\/em> finds ingenious ways to \u201clet the audience\u2019s eye go with you\u201d in the widescreen format. Sometimes it\u2019s a matter of classic edge framing. Thanks to a low angle, John and Holly converse along a wide-angle diagonal.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Sometimes McTiernan reverts to a technique not enough directors use nowadays: blocking and revealing. In classic cinema that was usually a technique reserved for long shots, when actors could move aside as part of ensemble. Die Hard<\/em> applies blocking and revealing to the tight framings of intensified continuity.<\/p>\n

A thug in an elevator checks his weapon, pivots for an instant, and then moves aside to show the elevator arriving at the target floor.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\"\"<\/a>\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Here again a rack focus helps. The moment reiterates the importance of the thirtieth floor in the skyscraper\u2019s geography.<\/p>\n

When Hans finds the body of Karl\u2019s brother, we can study his expression. He flips the victim\u2019s head to reveal a gunman, who looks to Hans before he says his line.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\"\"<\/a>\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

In a neat touch, the thug\u2019s mouth isn\u2019t shown. Today a director would probably show his whole face, but, really, who cares? The careful framing keeps him a secondary character, and a future target of McClane. And no need to rack focus on him, which would give him unwonted importance. All we need to remember him is that he\u2019s the thug with long hair.<\/p>\n

I can\u2019t refrain from using one audacious example from late in the film. John and Hans have met, and Hans has revealed himself by targeting John with the pistol McClane has given him. In reverse shot, John reveals that it has no bullets and grabs it away from Hans.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

But the pistol, and that gesture, have concealed the elevator behind them. When the pistol is knocked down, the elevator light pops on in the background. Our attention snaps to it, aided by that characteristic ping we hear throughout the movie (another motif).<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

The crisp turn of events, given visually and sonically, gets ampified by the acting. McClane\u2019s cockiness turns to panic and Hans gets the upper hand. (\u201cThink I\u2019m fucking stupid, Hans?\u201d Ping.<\/em> \u201cYou vere saying?\u201d)<\/p>\n

The most bravura rack-focus comes during the climax, when the firehose reel whizzes down behind McClane and he realizes that he\u2019s being dragged through the shattered window.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\"\"<\/a>\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

The coordination of the long lens, camera movement, staging, and racking focus is especially rich when Hans drifts among the hostages searching for the man in charge. He recites Takagi\u2019s life history as he passes from one possibility to another (including, comically, Ellis).<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\"\"<\/a>\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

At the climax of the passage, McTiernan\u2019s staging-in-layers sets up Takagi, Karl, and Holly before Takagi takes charge. Briefly blocked by Hans, he admits his identity by stepping out from behind and into focus.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\"\"<\/a>\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

McTiernan isn\u2019t done. A reverse shot of Hans finishing his spiel (\u201c\u2026and father of five\u201d) punctuates the suspense. McTiernan buttons up this passage by returning to his \u201cmoving master\u201d shot and having Karl shove Takagi out.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\"\"<\/a>\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

That clears the way for us to see Holly\u2019s reaction. A beat dwells on her as she shifts her eyes to Hans, foreshadowing her conflict with him at the climax.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

This sort of layering of faces popping in and out of visibility has precedents in earlier cinema, chiefly of the \u201ctableau\u201d period of the 1910s. McTiernan has, I think, spontaneously rediscovered for modern times what William C. de Mille was up to in the party scene in The Heir to the Hoorah<\/em> (1916). (For more on that, go here<\/a>.)<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Of course McTiernan also has to work with the 2.35:1 anamorphic format, which enables him to spread his layers out more. That format also allows some remarkable compositions, such as the one surmounting today\u2019s entry. The cut to the shot of John in Holly\u2019s office uses the abstract splash painting (seen here for the first time) as a visual analogy for the explosion of gunfire offscreen at the same time.<\/p>\n

McTiernan and de Bont constantly find striking but cogent images, thanks to lighting as well as color and format. Here\u2019s McClane on top of an elevator peering through the perforated grille; his POV is a striking but still informative composition. the cut between the two provides a little punch of contrasting light and shade.<\/p>\n

\"\"\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0<\/a>\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

There are felicities like these feathered all through this remarkable movie, but the momentum of storytelling never flags. This remains a masterpiece of Hollywood filmmaking.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Thanks to our readers for following us this year. Kristin will be weighing in soon with her annual list of best films from ninety years ago. In the meantime, HO-HO-HO.<\/p>\n

\n

Madison owes an enormous debt to our Cinematheque team: programmers Jim Healy, Mike King, Ben Reiser, and Zach Zahos, as well as veteran projectionist Roch Gersbach. Santa should reward them. You can too by visiting the Cinematheque\u2019s Podcast, Cinematalk<\/a>. There you\u2019ll find conversations with Manohla Dargis, Schawn Belston, and James Runde.<\/p>\n

For lots of background on the making of this film and the four sequels, there\u2019s Die Hard: The Ultimate Visual History<\/em><\/a> by Ronald Mottram and David S. Cohen. At rogerebert.com, Matt Zoller Seitz has\u00a0a discerning appreciation\u00a0<\/a>on the occasion of the film\u2019s twenty-fifth anniversary.<\/p>\n

Jake Tapper has provided\u00a0the definitive analysis<\/a>\u00a0of\u00a0Die Hard<\/em>\u00a0as a bona fide Christmas movie.<\/p>\n

McTiernan (with whom I share an alma mater) provides very good DVD commentaries (even for Basic<\/em>). Prison<\/a> also seems to have given him some pronounced political views<\/a>. Alas, the website he created as a platform for them is apparently no longer available.\u00a0Word is that<\/a>\u00a0McTiernan is preparing a new film,\u00a0Tau Ceti 4<\/em>, with Uma Thurman.\u00a0A videogame promo<\/a>\u00a0is purportedly signed by him.<\/p>\n

Of other McTiernan films, I also much admire\u00a0The Hunt for Red October<\/em> (1990). The Thomas Crown Affair<\/em> (1999) seems to me better directed than the original, and The 13th Warrio<\/em>r (1999), despite being taken out of his hands, remains a pretty interesting film. (Name another Hollywood movie in which a Muslim poet visiting Northern Europe is justly appalled at its barbarism.) Nomads<\/em> (1986) also has its good points.<\/p>\n

I discuss the issues of narrative and style raised here at greater length in\u00a0The Way Hollywood Tells It: Story and Style in Modern Movies<\/em>. You can also search \u201cintensified continuity\u201d for blog entries hereabouts. On CinemaScope aesthetics, see\u00a0this entry<\/a>\u00a0and\u00a0this video<\/a>.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Die Hard (<\/strong>1988).<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Die Hard (1988). David’s health situation has made it difficult for our household to maintain this blog. We don’t want it to fade away, though, so we’ve decided to select previous entries from our backlist to republish. These are items that chime with current developments or that we think might languish undiscovered among our 1094\u00a0entries […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[276,1,84,58,59,72,57,54],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-50489","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-directors-mctiernan","category-film-comments","category-film-genres","category-technique-editing","category-technique-staging","category-film-technique-widescreen","category-hollywood-aesthetic-traditions","category-narrative-strategies"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.davidbordwell.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/50489","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.davidbordwell.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.davidbordwell.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.davidbordwell.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.davidbordwell.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=50489"}],"version-history":[{"count":6,"href":"https:\/\/www.davidbordwell.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/50489\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":50498,"href":"https:\/\/www.davidbordwell.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/50489\/revisions\/50498"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.davidbordwell.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=50489"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.davidbordwell.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=50489"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.davidbordwell.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=50489"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}