The IRA is just sooooo 1982. Oh, it’s an enemy again, is it? Perhaps this is what happens when you get sick of scapegoating Middle Eastern peoples … or a better explanation is what happens when you sign up Jackie Chan as your hero; stick with a Middle Eastern terrorist and you have that awkward explain to certain white people that “some parts of Asia are ok.” At the end of the day, it’s actually easier to make the pretense that the whole terror/revenge shtick is perfectly acceptable under the guise of: the IRA did it and Jackie Chan is some sort of specially trained ‘Nam vet, transplanted and currently aligned as an Englamerican. Sure, that will fly, right? Why not?
So how do these things start? The usual way: Restauranteur Quan Ngoc Minh (Chan) and daughter are minding their own business a-strollin’ and a-shoppin’ in downtown London when a bomb goes off, claiming the life of the daughter. The “Authentic IRA” claims responsibility which proves shocking as IRA terrorism has been out of vogue for years and ISIS failed to say anything about the subject – that part must have been edited out. Jackie Chan has his clue and it’s time to Sinn Find some bad guys.
Quon is all business. The man who takes £20k in bills out of a paper bag, slides it across the table to an investigating British detective and says, “give me names” has all the subtlety of a Super Bowl promo. I don’t know what a guy has to do to get on a watch list these days, but the attempted bribe of a police officer and the implied threat and interference with a police investigation doesn’t get it done. Neither, it seems, does an actual bombing. Yes, bombing. Frustrated by the bobbies, Quan takes his gripe to the Belfast offices of Irish Deputy Minister Liam Hennnnesssseeee (Pierce Brosnan – when is the last time Brosnan played Irish?) And when Liam has no “names,” Quan detonates a crude bomb in the men’s room of the ministry … and leaves “Scot” free. What’s a guy gotta do to get arrested around here? I’d be freaking frustrated, too.
For a guy who doesn’t have any clue about who bombed his daughter, Quan sure as heck knows how to find Liam. Quan continually does a “Kilroy was here” routine around Liam’s car, business, home, second home; he 
even shows up to get a quality shot of Liam’s secret tryst (it would have been better had it been one of those selfies with the tryst in the background, but that’s wishful thinking). The message is clear, “gimme some names or I will escalate.”
About the time when peripheral soldiers follow Quan into the woods only to discover Irish sprung traps, I realized I’d seen this film before. It was called First Blood, the initial Rambo film. That’s the one were Sly goes guerrilla so easily that no one can find, capture, or kill the man without his express grunted permission. And Rambo knows exactly how to make the world bleed for annoying him. The longer The Foreigner plays, the more it resembles a Rambo film. Quan Ngoc Minh is serious, lethal, and untouchable. Those of us who have seen the evolution of Jackie Chan simply accept this as a next step. The happy-go-lucky brawler is through making speeches and toying with stunt doubles; you know what you did, and he’s gonna make you pay for it.
On the scale of police realism, this one approaches Fast & Furious territory, but it will certainly satisfy a number of folks who have vengeance in their souls.
They pissed off the ex-vet Quan Minh
But he doesn’t know where to begin
Give him name, they ought ter
To ease off the slaughter
Is it possible Rambo has a twin?
Rated R, 114 Minutes
Director: Martin Campbell
Writer: David Marconi
Genre: Revenge is a dish best served with no MSG
Type of being most likely to enjoy this film: Your average American violence junkie
Type of being least likely to enjoy this film: The IRA
