Alright, fellow tapeheads, slide that well-worn copy of The Big Hit into the VCR, ignore the slightly fuzzy tracking lines for a moment, and prepare for a blast of pure, unadulterated late-90s chaos. Forget subtle; this 1998 action-comedy hybrid straps itself to a rocket fueled by Hong Kong action aesthetics and blasts off into absurdity, and honestly? Sometimes that’s exactly what you needed on a Friday night after browsing the aisles at Blockbuster.
### Suburban Hitman Blues
At its core, The Big Hit throws us into the hilariously stressed life of Melvin Smiley (Mark Wahlberg, then really hitting his stride post-Boogie Nights), a professional killer with a serious people-pleasing problem. He’s got a demanding fiancée, Pam (Christina Applegate, perfectly channeling high-maintenance 90s energy), a sharp-tongued mistress, Chantel (Lela Rochon), and a crew of fellow assassins who are about as loyal as a three-dollar watch. The plot kicks into high gear when the crew, led by the supremely slimy Cisco (Lou Diamond Phillips, having an absolute blast chewing scenery), decides to pull a freelance kidnapping job behind Melvin’s back, grabbing Keiko Nishi (China Chow), the daughter of a wealthy industrialist. Naturally, Melvin gets dragged in, things go spectacularly wrong, and maximum mayhem ensues.
### Hong Kong Velocity, American Anxiety
What really makes The Big Hit pop, especially watching it now, is the direction by Hong Kong action veteran Kirk Wong. Fresh off directing Jackie Chan in the gritty Crime Story (1993), Wong brought that kinetic, hyper-stylized energy Stateside. This wasn't just another Hollywood action flick; it felt different. Remember those wire-fu-inflected fights? The dizzying camera angles? The sheer speed of the gunplay? It was all cranked up to eleven. Interestingly, the film was produced through Tiger Aspect Productions, linked with John Woo (yes, that John Woo) and Wesley Snipes' Amen Ra Films, which definitely explains the film's embrace of that heroic bloodshed-adjacent, wildly over-the-top style, albeit filtered through a comedic lens.
The practical effects here are pure late-90s gold. We’re talking squibs galore – those little explosive packs that made gunshot wounds look so visceral back then. Cars explode with satisfying, real fireballs, not pixelated puffs. Stunt performers are clearly putting themselves through the wringer. Sure, some of the wire work might look a bit obvious now compared to the seamless digital wizardry of today, but back on that CRT screen, it felt dynamic and impactful. There was a weight, a crunch, to the action that CGI often smooths over. Wasn't that final chase sequence through the woods something else for its time?
### A Cast Having Fun (Maybe Too Much?)
Wahlberg nails the central conceit of Melvin: a guy capable of brutal violence but crippled by social anxiety and a desperate need for approval. His earnest, often bewildered reactions to the escalating insanity around him are the film's comedic anchor. But let's be honest, Lou Diamond Phillips walks away with large chunks of this movie. His Cisco is pure, unadulterated sleaze – ambitious, treacherous, and utterly hilarious in his self-serving villainy. He dives into the role with infectious glee.
The supporting cast is a fantastic snapshot of late-90s talent too: Bokeem Woodbine as the perpetually paranoid Crunch, Antonio Sabàto Jr. as the vain Vince, and the always formidable Avery Brooks (Star Trek: Deep Space Nine) as the crew's intimidating boss, Paris. Even Elliott Gould shows up as Melvin's oblivious father-in-law-to-be. It’s a wild ensemble, and everyone seems keenly aware of the film's heightened reality.
### That Infamous Video Store Scene
You can't talk about The Big Hit without mentioning that video store scene. Melvin, trying to return an overdue porno tape ("King Kong Cox"), gets caught in a standoff that perfectly encapsulates the film's blend of mundane awkwardness and explosive violence. It's darkly funny and utterly bizarre. Retro Fun Fact: The title of that fictional adult film caused a bit of a stir! Originally, the tape Melvin rented was titled Taste the Golden Spray, but later the more memorable (and controversial, for its time) Brokeback Mountain joke was filmed. However, due to test audience reactions and potential controversy even then, the title was ultimately dubbed over in post-production to the less specific "King Kong Cox" or similar variations for the final release and TV airings. Tracking down an original cut audio snippet became a minor pursuit for fans later on!
### Box Office Blip, VHS Staple?
Upon release, The Big Hit didn't exactly set the world on fire. It landed with mixed reviews – critics were often split on the jarring tonal shifts between goofy comedy and intense violence – and it pulled in a modest $27 million worldwide against its reported $13 million budget. Not a disaster, but certainly not the blockbuster its title suggested.
However, like so many films from this era, it found a second life on VHS and DVD. It was the kind of movie you'd grab when you wanted something loud, dumb, and undeniably fun. It was flashy, quotable ("You can't disappoint a picture!"), and delivered the kind of high-octane, low-brow thrills that were perfect for a weekend rental. It developed a definite cult following among viewers who appreciated its gonzo energy and didn't mind the tonal whiplash.
Rating: 7/10
Justification: The Big Hit earns a solid 7 for its sheer, unpretentious entertainment value and its successful (if sometimes messy) fusion of Hong Kong action style with American comedy. The performances, particularly from Wahlberg and a scene-stealing Phillips, are committed and fun. While the script isn't exactly Shakespeare and the tonal shifts can be jarring, the kinetic direction, memorable set pieces, and embrace of practical mayhem make it a standout example of late-90s action filmmaking. It's flawed, sure, but undeniably energetic and rewatchable.
Final Take: The Big Hit is a gloriously unsubtle time capsule – a hyperactive sugar rush of bullets, belly laughs, and bad decisions, all delivered with that distinct pre-millennium, practical effects-heavy flair. Turn your brain off, crank the volume up, and enjoy the glorious chaos.