Alright, fellow tape trackers, let's rewind to 1996. The video store shelves were groaning under the weight of action flicks, but amidst the usual suspects, one tape box often caught the eye with its slightly unusual pairing: Steven Seagal and Keenen Ivory Wayans staring grimly out at you. Yep, we're talking about The Glimmer Man, a film that tried to blend Seagal's trademark Aikido beatdowns with a buddy cop dynamic and a surprisingly grim serial killer plot. Pull up a beanbag chair, adjust the tracking, because this one’s a curious artifact from the tail-end of Seagal's big-screen prime.
### An Unlikely Duo in Dark Territory
The premise drops us into LA, where Detectives Jack Cole (Seagal) and Jim Campbell (Wayans) are thrown together to hunt a sadistic serial killer nicknamed "The Family Man," who crucifies his victims. Right away, the film establishes a darker tone than many contemporary actioners. Cole isn't just another tough cop; he's an ex-government operative, mysteriously known as "The Glimmer Man" for his ability to disappear. He speaks fluent Russian and Chinese, sports Tibetan prayer beads, drinks bizarre health concoctions, and carries an air of detached, almost mystical competence.
This is peak mid-90s Seagal, where his real-life interests in Eastern philosophy and martial arts were bleeding heavily into his screen personas. Remember how he’d suddenly bust out some esoteric knowledge or healing technique? Cole is perhaps the epitome of that trend. It adds a layer of enjoyable absurdity that somehow works within the gritty context. Paired against him is Wayans' Campbell, the more grounded, wisecracking (though surprisingly restrained for Wayans) cop who initially distrusts his enigmatic new partner. Fresh off the massive success of In Living Color and films like A Low Down Dirty Shame (1994), seeing Wayans in a more serious, albeit still quippy, action role was definitely a change of pace. Their chemistry isn’t electric, maybe more like static cling, but the odd-couple dynamic provides some decent friction and occasional laughs.
### Ritual Killings and Ponytails
The plot itself, penned by Kevin Brodbin (who interestingly also wrote the original draft that eventually became 2005's Constantine), involves conspiracies reaching into high society, Russian mobsters, and Cole's shadowy past. It’s a bit convoluted, sometimes feeling like two different movie plots awkwardly stitched together, but it serves its primary purpose: setting up situations where Seagal can do his thing. And let's be honest, that's why most of us rented this back in the day.
Bob Gunton, always reliable as a menacing presence (think Warden Norton in The Shawshank Redemption from 1994), plays Frank Deverell, a key figure tangled in the web, while Brian Cox chews scenery delightfully as the requisite shady CIA contact, Mr. Smith. They add a touch of class to the proceedings, even when the dialogue veers into pure action movie cliché.
One fun bit of trivia: Seagal apparently clashed quite a bit with director John Gray (known more for TV movies and series work) and reportedly even did some uncredited directing himself. You can almost feel that tension sometimes, a slight unevenness in tone, but Gray still manages to deliver a reasonably slick-looking product for its time. Shot around Los Angeles, the film captures that specific mid-90s urban grime quite effectively.
### That Sweet, Sweet Practical Action
Okay, let's get to the meat and potatoes: the action. This is where The Glimmer Man delivers that classic VHS-era satisfaction. Forget floaty CGI physics; this is all about tangible impact. When Seagal throws a goon through a window, you feel the shattering glass and the thud. The fight choreography leans heavily on Seagal’s Aikido, full of wrist locks, joint manipulation, and those lightning-fast blocks and strikes that were his signature. Are some of the fights repetitive? Sure. Does Seagal occasionally look like he’s swatting flies? Maybe. But there’s an undeniable crunchy reality to it.
Remember that scene in the kitchen? Or the pool hall brawl? These sequences rely on expert stunt coordination and performers willing to take real falls onto hard surfaces. There's a visceral quality to the bullet hits, the small explosions, the car chases – they feel grounded and dangerous in a way that often gets lost in today's smoother, more digitally augmented set pieces. Was that final warehouse shootout over the top? Absolutely! But wasn't that part of the fun? The sheer physicality, even when heightened, felt earned back then. You knew real people were putting themselves on the line for those shots.
The film had a decent budget for the era, around $45 million, and you can see it in some of the scale, but it didn't exactly light the box office on fire, pulling in just over $20 million domestically. Critics were, shall we say, unkind (a common fate for Seagal vehicles), but audiences looking for a specific brand of action found something to enjoy, especially on home video where films like this truly thrived.
### Final Verdict: Flickering Fun
The Glimmer Man isn't a lost masterpiece of the action genre. The plot has holes you could drive a Russian mobster's limo through, Seagal’s performance is... well, Seagal, and the buddy cop element never fully gels. But viewed through the warm, fuzzy lens of VHS nostalgia? It’s a surprisingly entertaining watch. It offers a glimpse of Seagal trying something slightly different (for him), pairs him with an unexpected co-star, and delivers those satisfyingly tangible action beats we remember so fondly. The darker serial killer angle gives it a slightly grittier edge than usual, even if it feels a bit underdeveloped.
Rating: 6.5 / 10
Why this score? It hits the required Seagal action notes with solid practical fights and stunts, the Wayans pairing adds a unique flavour (even if undercooked), and the moody LA setting works. Points deducted for the messy plot, uneven tone, and moments where Seagal's mystique tips into unintentional comedy. It’s a quintessential mid-tier 90s action rental – flawed, perhaps, but undeniably watchable and packed with that specific era's charm.
Final Thought: It might not "glimmer" quite as brightly as the A-list action hits, but for a Friday night flashback fuelled by microwave popcorn and fuzzy memories, The Glimmer Man still flickers with that distinct, hard-hitting 90s energy. Definitely worth dusting off the VCR for... if you can still find one.