‘You fuck with my family, you die...’
I recently had my first tantalising taste of Steven Seagal with Under Siege, generally considered the big man’s magnum opus (he looks like he’s eaten too many Magnums these days, but that’s by the by), and I liked what I saw. And so, like the obsessive completist that I am, it was time for another slice of Seagal. Marked for Death. The man loves a three word title. He loves kicking people in the head. He loves delivering his dialogue with all the emotion of a tin can. Tremendous stuff…
Hatcher (Seagal) is a DEA Agent forced out of retirement for one last job when a Jamaican drug posse threaten his family. In a contrivance that can only be described as ‘racist’, the Jamaican gang also practice voodoo. Despite the appearance of action movie veterans Keith David and Danny Trejo (albeit for about five minutes in the latter case), this is very much the Seagal show.
I think what makes Seagal and his work so compelling is the dichotomy between how seriously he takes himself and his films and how ridiculous the films end up being. A reminder that Seagal vetoed adding more humour to Marked for Death, citing The French Connection as his inspiration, and yet, there is a character called Screwface (Basil Wallace) who at one point attempts to perform a voodoo ritual. There is a gangster named Jimmy Fingers (Tony DiBenedetto). Jamaican musician Jimmy Cliff shows up playing himself. And yet, throughout all of this mad nonsense, Seagal remains thoughtful and stoic. He is playing this is as straight as can be, there is no doubt about that.
I watched Marked for Death a couple of days ago and it’s already started to fade from my memory like a beautiful dream. Suffice to say, I thoroughly enjoyed watching it, and now I’ll never think of it again.
