I think a large part of the reason I’m so fond of movies from the 80s is due to the shameless acceptance that — for the most part — they don’t take themselves seriously. Classic examples of such include the Evil Dead trilogy, the Gremlins movies, Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure, and other such offerings; you go into it knowing that the movies intend to take themselves with a pinch of salt, and unlike more modern offerings, there was a certain charm and appeal to this light-hearted nature. While this mentality is largely dead in the modern era of movies, there are still a few gems that manage to recreate the old magic, first and foremost of which is the 2007 action movie Shoot ‘Em Up, starring Clive Owen as the enigmatic, carrot-munching gunman with a penchant for hating just about everything.

If this movie teaches anything, it's to not fuck with a guy who eats raw carrots.

The story is frankly ridiculous, which fits in perfectly with the overall experience — that being a balls-to-the-wall, hilariously implausible spree of violence, all starting with our ornery hero known only as Mr. Smith becoming reluctantly embroiled in a plot that, through convoluted yet eventually cogent means, involves a fairly stereotypical, bearded bad guy and his apparently limitless legions of goons attempting to hunt down and kill a defenseless newborn baby. It’s not long until underhanded government assassins get wind of the goings-on and join in the hunt for their own sinister ends, and that’s when this spree of rampant, idiotic-yet-superb action begins, and it doesn’t let up until the very second the end credits roll.

Imagine then, if you will, a movie about an ex-special-forces gunman with a deus ex machina-like ability to turn any situation to his advantage which puts even the A-Team to shame, on the run from goons and government alike, all the while trying to defend a baby whose very existence is enough to warrant such reckless hate. The first ten minutes alone involve a henchman being killed with a carrot, acrobatic gunfighting that would make The Matrix green with envy, the newborn baby’s umbilical cord being severed with a gunshot, and a rooftop shootout involving a neon sign for “FAULK TRUCK & TOOL” being strategically destroyed until the remaining letters spell out a taunting insult.

The remainder of the movie keeps the relentless pace with only a few breaks to elaborate upon the unfolding story and offer some minimal, though often amusing character development, such as inconveniently-timed phone calls between the primary villain, Karl Hertz (Paul Giamatti), and his estranged wife as their marriage collapses practically in sync with the predictable and inevitable downfall of his dastardly plans. It almost feels like watching an hour and a half long trailer, with increasingly unlikely confrontations — the fight against the government man in the bathroom is my personal favourite, with strategic use of a wall-mounted hand dryer — and sometimes groan-inducing, but largely genuinely amusing quips. While the plot seems to falter a little at times, sometimes feeling almost inexplicably nonsensical, things are quickly explained away and the pace moves ever onwards, always leaving the viewer wondering just how much more epic and surreal the next battle will be.

If you’re looking for something flashy, amusing, violent, yet not intended to be taken even slightly seriously — a great contender for drunken movie nights, perhaps — then you can’t go far wrong with Shoot ‘Em Up, one of my personal favourite action movies of all time.

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