My dearest Die Hard,
I’m writing you this letter because I loved you. However, I cannot help but feel that we’ve grown apart over the years. I’ve been patient and I’ve tried to hold on to hope, but after what recently happened, I fear that our relationship is going nowhere. I think it’s time we see other people…
When my friends introduced me to you, you seemed like all the other action movies at first, but you were so much more. You were so witty and charismatic, with every line of dialogue so well written and expertly delivered. I’ll remember those exchanges between McClane and Gruber till the day I die, and not a single Christmas went by without hearing you say “Yippee Ki-Yay, Mother Fucker”.
And the action… oh my GOD, the action…
It was orgasmic; some of the best action I’ve ever had. You gave me shootouts, fist fights and a helicopter crash. All of that was just foreplay to that hose-tugging climax that had me convulsing in pleasure.
And yet, you weren’t afraid to show your vulnerability. John McClane was the everyman forced into the hero position and the damage inflicted on him seemed realistic, right down to his glass-pierced feet. He wasn’t the robotic John Matrix in Commando (who I had a bit of an on-off fling with), he was a human being who knew pain the way I knew pain. I felt I could relate to you, Die Hard, and that’s a feeling I don’t get with most action movies.
I feared it would be nothing more than a one-night stand, but you quickly relieved my anxiety with Die Hard 2: Die Harder. You still knew how to make me laugh, how to give good action and how to make me feel connected to you.
However I admit that it felt like you hadn’t changed that much over the years, though I still loved you nonetheless. It just seemed like our relationship was becoming too ‘same-y’.
But you would prove me wrong once again, With a Vengeance.
You changed things up in your third outing, and for the better. You gave me action in places I never would’ve expected from you: a bank, a warehouse, a boat, even a public park! You also gave me action I’ve never experienced before, like that moment where McClane got water-gunned up a manhole or that scene where that guy got halved by a cable (I’m not even sure how that’s physically possible!). You even introduced me to your one black friend (though I may never understand your aversion to Europeans).
And yet, despite these differences, you were still the same good cop having a very bad day, delivering your trademark wit and banter all while carrying a hangover. You were a totally new action film, but you never stopped being the same action film I fell in love with. Those were some of the best times of my movie-watching life, and I honestly thought our relationship was going to last forever.
But something went wrong. You changed.
In 2007, you came out with Live Free or Die Hard. You seemed determined to try our relationship over the internet (those never tend to work out), but that cyber-terrorist plot just muddled your personality. I could feel this vapid distance growing between us…
Your witty one-liners were still somewhat present, but you seemed… off. McClane also had this indestructible quality to him – jumping off of exploding helicopters and such – that made him seem inhuman. I was afraid you were losing touch with the action film you used to be.
You couldn’t even put your ‘Fucker’ in my ‘Yippee Ki-Yay’…
The action you gave me didn’t feel right. I wasn’t being pleasured by the Die Hard I knew, but by a CG stranger. I was worried that you were trying to appeal to someone else, to any ol’ person who’d watch any ol’ action film. However, every relationship has its bumpy roads, and I had faith ours would stay on track, given our history together.
This Valentine’s Day, I really believed you would try to revive our relationship. But alas, it was not a good day. I don’t want to sound harsh, but A Good Day to Die Hard has turned you into a loud, obnoxious idiot. Whenever that film wasn’t eclipsing the dialogue with noise, McClane was made to say things that were either stupid or devoid of sense (he was even slurring your words at one point). That triple-villain subplot was also totally pointless. It took away from that trademark McClane-antagonist chemistry that I loved.
The few action sequences that were decent were few and far between with the shortest running time of the whole franchise – I’m used to you lasting much longer than that…
I remember the John McClane who defined heroism through his wit and by pushing through the tremendous amounts of physical pain he endured. The John McClane in this film has become what Hans Gruber mocked him for being: a reckless cowboy. He doesn’t even seem to feel pain, cleanly surviving a car crash that flipped his truck five times or falling through three panes of glass only to shrug it off like it never happened. This script seems like just another dumb action movie with a name and face I vaguely recognise.
If you’re going to claim to be a Die Hard movie, you have to be faithful to your series’ roots. But you broke my heart, Die Hard. You broke my heart by being unfaithful.
You are no longer the Die Hard I fell in love with, but a painful reminder of the beautiful thing we once had, and the ugly thing it has now become. I’m sure you’ll find someone who loves you for who you are now, but that person isn’t me. We had a good run, and it’s time we moved on. I promise we can still be friends, cross my heart and hope to Die Hard.
Take care,
Liam
