Like him or laugh at him, Steven Seagal sure knew how to kick ass on-screen, and although wooden enough to make a dining table out of, he's got a blockhead appeal and a certain cinematic snap he brings to each feature.
Of course, I'm usually drunk when I press play on his movies, and it only takes me 10 seconds before I think I've seen it before—which I pretty much have seeing as all his stuff is cut from the same plot cloth—wronged hero out on his own, wanting to bust the bad guys.
Have you ever noticed he's always holding a gun on the cover of his releases? He's also prone to moments of deep, reflective thought, and laughable regret where he questions his job or life and asks for forgiveness. Scenes that prove that without a doubt, the man runs the risk of contracting dutch elm disease every waking day.
Anyhow... this old skool, atypical outing (directed by the guy behind Halloween 4—88) has NARC Seagal battling evil Mexican drug lords. Then, questioning the morality of his job (told ya), he retires, goes quiet and hangs out with his sister and her family, until they get hassled by evil Jamaican drug lords (dressed like Milli Vanilli) and we're off on bloody revenge trip once again. Seagal breaks heads, faces, arms, legs and windows, and even pops caps, racking up a decent bodycount while working his way up thru' the rasta-ranks in pursuit of scary voodoo don 'Screwface' (Basil Wallace).
Lots of macho speeches, machetes, harsh boxing, Kieth David (The Thing—82), Jimmy Cliff (The Harder They Come—72), many shotguns and even some decent tunage from Masters Of Reality. "I's gonna' KILL YOOOOO!".