Review of The Delta Force (1986) by Tim A — 05 Mar 2009

Critics who should know better have frequently dismissed Delta Force as a lightweight action wankfest. You would think that the War on Terror would make any curious elitist film snob look back to the 1980s to learn from Norris' unorthodox tactics against vaguely Middle-Eastern looking villains, but you would be wrong.

Even the latest revival of Chuck Norris jokes (perfectly timed to coincide with mid-80s kids turning 20 and finally learning how to post on the internet) seems more suited for late-night bong rips than a scholarly look at one of America's most talented thespians.

In "Delta Force," a harrowing tale of terror and the American heroes who inevitably rise against it, Chuck Norris doesn't just think "outside the box." He knifes the box in the back, pistol-whips it, knees it in the groin, smashes its ribs, then walks outside the house and calmly loads his bazooka.

Just when the box thinks it has had enough, Norris roars in with a motorcycle, splashes extra-dense kerosene all over the box, lights a strike-anywhere match off his mustache, and rides off into the sunset just in time to catch a ride from the retracting cargo bay hatch of a C-130.

Forget your grandpa's Walker: Texas Ranger or your mom's Lifetime: Moment of Truth marathons. Delta Force is the real deal. Today's leading historians of the action film genre agree conclusively: Delta Force is the long sought after "missing link" between Rambo's one-man victory against the Vietcong and Jack Bauer's continuing mission to save America by torturing dark-skinned masterminds determined to blow up our small town libraries and steal our fast-food and software industry jobs out from under our lazy, ignorant butts.

Try not to crap your adult diapers as Chuck Norris smashes your preconceived notions of how a real man combats the ultimate threat to free markets and world peace: hit 'em hard, hit 'em fast, and hit 'em low.

And bring bazookas.