Die Hard 4.0 by Paul Bullock

How do you make a fourth entry into the terrorist-bashing, chest-thumping Die Hard series in this post-9/11 world? With audiences more savvy, sensitive and scared than they were back when the series debuted in the 1980s, it's certainly not easy. Shoot too much for realism and you risk losing cinema-goers by being too stark and depressing; but play it too much for slick, fantastical fun and you'll leave yourself open to criticisms of trivialising a serious subject. So, the team behind the return of the Die Hard franchise have played it safe in bringing the series back to the big screen: they’ve not made a Die Hard film.

Influenced heavily by the likes of 24 and based upon an article in technology magazine Wired, the fourth outing for John McClane (Bruce Willis) finds our perennial ‘wrong place, wrong time’ guy in the midst of a technological meltdown. A virtual terrorist group has taken control of America and is systematically bringing the country to its knees via a malevolent computer virus. Ever the luddite, McClane finds himself completely out of his depths in this world of keyboards and firewalls and enlists small-scale hacker Matt (Justin Long) to explain all the big words and do all the computer work, so he can go round shooting shit up.

Business as usual, you'd think. Except, it's very definitely not. Virtual terrorism may be disconcertingly current but it's hardly enthralling cinema. By it's very nature, such a plot involves a group of angry nerds sitting around computers while being shouted at by a slightly more well-groomed alpha-nerd, who in this case is Timothy Olyphant's disgraced government advisor Thomas Gabriel. Olyphant infuses this character with all the pantomime smirk you'd expect from a good McClane nemesis, but with an unclear motive (money? revenge? I-told-you-so boasting?) and wimpish habit of sending out assassin/lover Mai (Maggie Q) to do his dirty work, he lacks both the arrogant smarts of Jeremy Irons and hands-on violence of Alan Rickman.

He also lacks a strong opponent, because the McClane we see in Die Hard 4.0 is a far cry from the smart-talker who proved so memorable in the 1988 original. Back then, McClane had personality, he was a flawed, relatable everyman, light-years away from the monotone killing-machines of Stallone and Schwarzenegger. He had a unique edginess, was frequently injured in battle and echoed what many would do in a similar situation: complain, swear and be desperate to get home. In our world of fire/policeman heroes, such normality has only become more relevant and a concerted effort is made here to elevate this everyman status - but in a strictly post-9/11 sense.

That means instead of the rough diamond quality he had in the 80s, McClane is homogonised into a slick, cliched ass-kicker and stripped of his colourful, but currently-distasteful, nihilism and slobbishness. No longer does our hero cuss, have a hangover (as in the third film), or criticise the police, something that would be hugely unpopular today. In fact, the renegade of Nakatomi Plaza has now become the darling of the establishment, with writer Mark Bomback going to great pains to acknowledge McClane’s rank in the force, and a few background photos even showing him proudly wearing his uniform.

Does this mean our hero has settled down and finally become an actual, paperwork-filing police officer now? Not quite. McClane here occupies that fantasy ground America (and perhaps the world) now craves - he’s enough a part of the establishment to not be threatening, but far enough removed from it to still save the country single-handedly. And that’s exactly what he does - on the biggest possible scale. More action-packed than even the ridiculously over-the-top Die Hard 2, 4.0 finds McClane doing everything from escaping an SUV while dangling in an elevator shaft to outrunning a stealth fighter jet while a bridge collapses around them, all, miraculously, without getting injured.

Naturally this makes for engagingly moronic viewing, but somehow it never manages to grip in the way it should. Underworld director Len Wiseman has created a film polished to perfection, but completely lacking any discernable personality, something not helped by the thriller 101 cinematography and McClane‘s best impression of a starred-up Super Mario Brother. Indeed, it's only when Wiseman does away with such blockbusters absurdities and finally plays it straight in the nicely taut final scene that Die Hard 4.0 finally finds its feet. By that point though, you'll be too busy wondering if Nakatomi Plaza is fully booked to care.