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Writer's pictureGary Jive

Invasion U.S.A. (1985) - Day 192, July 5th




My next Christmas-set movie thriller is absolute ridiculousness incarnate. 1985’s Invasion U.S.A. from director Joseph Zito stars action legend Chuck Norris as Matt Hunter, a one man army who has to rescue the entire United States when a vicious foreign army invades Miami…at Christmas. You feel sorry for the invaders. 

 This is far more like it - a preposterous ultra-violent ‘80s action flick that more than delivers on its promise. Mysterious, unkillable ex-special forces man Hunter is possibly Chuck’s most ludicrous character to date, such is his unparalleled badassery. He may come at Christmas but Hunter is less Santa and more avenging angel, protecting the Holiday Season from invaders who try to ruin the festive spirit with shootings and bombings and such. When we meet him he’s left behind his old life of patriotic mayhem and living the quiet life in the Florida everglades wrestling alligators - because, when they’re not riding cool-ass swamp boats looking all rugged and mean, that is just what all-American men with awe-inspiring mullets and beards do, goddammit.

 The pencil-pushing Intelligence bureaucrats try to coax Hunter back to the life - they’ve got wind that his old nemesis Rostov (Billy Drago), an evil Soviet (boooo!) commander is planning something diabolical on U.S. soil. Hunter gripes that they “should have let me kill him when I had the chance” and declines. He has his alligators - what more could a man need?

 Ironically, Rostov is so frightened of Hunter that he has actual vivid recurring nightmares  about him kicking his ass, so his henchmen pay a visit to Hunter’s swamp shack to try to blow him to kingdom come. Rostov never got the memo that Chuck cannot be killed by conventional weapons, only succeeds in pissing him off and boom - Hunter’s back in the game and Rostov’s on the naughty list. It’s on.

 A lot of stuff gets blown up in this film. It’s like a 12-year-old boy’s wet dream, knowingly over-the-top and preposterous, but a whole lot of fun, the sort of film that keeps the stunt men’s union very busy.

 



Rostov’s plan feels like an overt assault, not just on America, but on Christmas itself. His goons attack a church during a festive service and his goons even bazooka a whole street of suburban homes just as a cute little girl is decorating the family Christmas tree. The dicks! They even attack a shopping mall packed with festive shoppers in a standout adrenaline-pumping moment that sees Hunter hanging from the side of a sportscar as it whizzes through the mall, crashing through window displays, all while kicking ass, taking names and dodging bullets like a goddamn ghost.

 Later on, when the baddies try to bomb a schoolbus full of kids Hunter rides up in his truck, grabs the bomb, catches up with the villains and shouts "lose something?" just as it blows them to smithereens. Awesome, right?

 He also appears to be able to kick round corners and can possibly read minds as he somehow knows to shout his catchphrase "It's time to die!" from Rostov's dreams right before he vanquishes him. Did I mention this one climaxes with a mano a mano bazooka duel? Yeah, this film is 100 percent terri-brill. Ho ho holy shit and god bless America for creating this mad, mad, glorious film.



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