Chuck Norris has had a remarkable career: A martial arts champion and master. A movie heavy who fought (and what a fight it is!) the Mighty Bruce Lee at the Roman Colisseum in Way of the Dragon (1972). A bona fide movie star for 15 years. A primetime television star for the next ten years. A bestselling author. A widely-read columnist. And finally, a living legend, icon, and internet meme.
How many people have matched that career longevity or even come close? Almost no one. What’s more, Norris did it all on his own terms. Throughout the decades, Norris has stubbornly guarded his image and refused to betray his conservative, Christian, and patriotic beliefs. Almost all of his movies are independent features, which gave him the control required to portray himself and his values in a dignified way. I would argue that this is one of the reasons Norris is 82 years old and still an icon, still a star whose movies are passed from one generation to the next.
And through it all, the elites and foo-foo critics sneered.
The secret sauce to his success is no secret. We like Chuck Norris. He seems to like us. And he has never sold us out to enjoy the warmth and riches that come with selling people like us out.
Over the past few weeks, thanks to the God-given gift of home video, the wife and I went on a Chuck Norris rampage. Yes, we subscribe to Netflix, Amazon Prime, and a couple of other streaming services offering tens of thousands of new TV shows and movies. But almost everything produced today sucks, which is why home video truly is a God-given gift. I don’t suffer through today’s garbage. I watch my Blu-rays. You should too. If I want to watch something new, there’s plenty of pre-1995 stuff I haven’t seen. Life’s too short to watch virtue-signaling garbage when the Chuck Norris canon is so easily available.
Chuck Norris movies rawk. Here are my favorites — the ones I’m most thankful for — ranked in order of favoritism…
Three of these titles were released in one year. So when Donald Trump wins reelection, he should decree 1985 The Year of The Norris.
Invasion U.S.A. (1985)
Ah, yes, my favorite Christmas movie.
Soviet and Cuban terrorists wreak havoc in America. Former CIA operative Matt Hunter (Norris) reluctantly comes out of retirement and straps on a couple of Uzis. The archvillain (played by the great Richard Lynch) is so villainous he believably kills Billy Drago, who was also one of Hollywood’s great villains (and will show up later on this list).
By 1985, Norris had found his look, his strong and silent screen persona, and had moved away from the karate movie to the action movie. To satisfy purists, Norris would continue kicking people in the face, but Invasion U.S.A. is all about huge action set-pieces, one of them in a crowded mall.
Best moment: “I’m gonna hit you with so many rights you’re gonna beg for a left.”
Second best moment: Lynch fires bazookas into suburban homes filled with families preparing for Christmas. Ooh, you want to see him get his so bad.
Delta Force 2: The Colombian Connection (1990)
I told you Billy Drago would show up later…
Norris returns as Colonel Scott McCoy in the sequel to his 1986 hit Delta Force (which almost made this list).
Drago plays Ramon Cota, a Colombian drug lord who starts targeting DEA agents. After Cota tortures and kills McCoy’s partner Bobby Chavez (Paul Perri) and sends the video to the American government (!), things get personal. Fighting domestic politics, international politics, and a whole lot of bad guys, McCoy’s sent in to a really, really big house to get the job done.
Other than the non-stop action (ably directed by Norris’s brother Aaron), the highlight is watching Cannon Films’ stalwart John P. Ryan’s flamboyant and hilarious performance as McCoy’s sympathetic commanding officer, Gen. Taylor.
Code of Silence (1985)
This superb urban action-thriller is as close as Norris would come to starring in an A-grade studio production. This is in large part due to director Andrew Davis, who elevated everything he touched — see also: Above the Law (1988), The Package (1989), Under Siege (1992), The Fugitive (1993). Norris plays Eddie Cusack, a Chicago cop caught in a drug war between the mafia and the Camacho Family, led by the great Henry Silva.
Davis is a genius director who knows the city of Chicago like no one else, which gives the proceedings an authentic urban feel throughout, including the interiors.
The script is first-rate and offers a subplot that has something to say about police corruption, which also serves as a believable situation that forces Cusack to go it alone against overwhelming odds — unless you count the robot.
Extra points for a dynamite score and a harrowing fight atop a moving L-Train.
Bonus: A Chicago cop named Dennis Farina moonlighted to portray Cusack’s loyal partner.
Missing in Action 2: The Beginning (1985)
In Missing in Action (1984), Chuck Norris plays a former P.O.W. who goes back to Vietnam to rescue the P.O.W.s no one wants to acknowledge are still there. In Missing in Action 2, we go back in time ten years to watch Norris escape from a brutal North Vietnamese prison camp.
Missing in Action is still Norris’s biggest commercial hit and the feature that enshrined him as an action star instead of a karate star.
As much as I love Missing in Action, part two is pure B-movie glory. Braddock’s (Norris) nemesis is camp commander Colonel Yin (Soon-Tek Oh), and the first 40 minutes do a beautiful job boiling your blood. You want to see everyone get theirs. The final 50 minutes deliver the satisfaction of payback as Braddock plays a cat-and-mouse game that would impress John Rambo.
Lone Wolf McQuade (1983)
The last of Norris’s “karate” films is the best. Norris plays J.J. McQuade, a Texas Ranger nicknamed Lone Wolf for his desire to work alone. So naturally, he’s saddled with a young and inexperienced partner (Robert Beltran) just as things get personal between McQuade and Rawley Wilkes (the great David Carradine), a soulless arms dealer skilled in the martial arts.
Meanwhile, in a gloriously ludicrous subplot, the gorgeous and utterly out-of-place Barbara Carrera is drawn to McQuade like a moth to a flame. She seems to wait around in his dingy house just to have sex with him. Naturally, she’s supposed to be Rawley’s woman.
My affection for this movie is undying. From the over-the-top spaghetti Western score to Norris dodging fully-automatic gunfire by rolling around on the ground, it’s about as perfect as B-movies get.
The final karate match between Norris and Carradine is epic and unforgettable.
Good Guys Wear Black (1978)
The movie that made Norris a star is still a fantastic piece of can-do independent filmmaking. Norris plays Major John T. Booker. In 1973, a sleazy U.S. Senator (the great James Franciscus) set Booker and his team of Black Tigers up to be killed by the North Vietnamese — you know, for the “greater good.” Five years later, Booker is a college professor quietly living his life. Then the surviving members of the Black Tigers start getting killed off.
Booker and the gorgeous Anne Archer team up and lots of butts get kicked.
Other than being entertaining, I’m convinced that what set Good Guys Wear Black apart from the pack was one iconic moment — that unforgettable moment when Norris jumps through a moving car’s windshield.
Some 45 years later, I still remember that moment from the television trailer.
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From the beginning, Norris was heavily involved in his career. He choreographed action scenes, co-wrote some screenplays, chose his directors, and so on. His 50-year success in one of the toughest professions (entertainment) out there is no fluke. And throughout, he did things his way. And for that…
We should all give thanks.
P.S. The best way to watch these movies is with an over-educated, single, white, childless feminist and NPR fan.
Follow John Nolte on Twitter @NolteNC. Follow his Facebook Page here.
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