1993’s Demolition Man had promise at first glance. One of the lead characters was an adventurous female with Kung Fu moves, perfect aim and, best of all, a hint of bloodlust. She plays a futuristic law enforcement cadet who is fascinated with the 20th century (now, the “old days”). She has a sort of dopey, clueless charm but maintains an air of personal tenacity and proves she has nothing short of a titanium backbone.Wesley Snipes was a psychotic criminal who gave the audience the vicarious pleasure of brutally – and with flair – outsmarting the super-whitey police force and its overlording white establishment.
What could possibly go wrong?
Well… let’s begin with Snipes’ character (Pheonix) who, despite being a bad-ass criminal way back in the 20th century, is only now “truly intimidating” due to physical and mental enhancements bestowed upon him by a white man during his incarceration in ice. The capper? Even with these upgrades, Pheonix is incapable of defeating our hero, white guy Stallone. Our warrior cries against the inhumanity, the injustice, the prejudice, the abuse, the oppression, the corruption and the racism of the white establishment are drowned in Pheonix’s unfathomable death at the hands of our hero, white guy Stallone.
Unfortunately, that’s not where the travesty ends. After Bullock’s character (Huxley) proves herself to be a first-rate marksman, the audience’s excitement builds in anticipation of her certain role in day-saving. Wrong again. Right before our hero, white guy Stallone fights the evil Simon Pheonix, he renders Huxley unconscious, promising her it’s for her own good. He then goes on to save the day alone, once again restoring white male order to the universe and defeating the evil, however somehow still inferior, black criminal. When the dust settles, Huxley actually thanks him for keeping her out of the big finale. This statement is particularly bewildering since she has heretofore shown no signs of shying from danger and has enthusiastically plunged into any and all peril with gusto and drive. An integral part of her character’s motivation was her dissatisfaction with her mundane life of order and safety.
And the cherry on top: despite her forward sexuality in an earlier scene (she outright asks Stallone if he wants to have sex), the white male order is once again restored to the universe when he literally sweeps her off her feet romance-novel-cover style and plants one on her. And she didn’t even make it on the cover.
So… yeah. Whatever.
It’s just another disappointing caucasian male ejaculation on the summer dress of egalitarian potential. Boo. Damn, I really hate the good old days.