Meet Martin Riggs

It was December 2022, a few days after Christmas, and I was home for the holidays. I was sitting alone in my parent’s kitchen, close to midnight, with an active mind but nothing to work on. My family was asleep, with the low hum of the microwave fan on to let remind everyone (me) to keep the volume down. My latest short, MK Ultra Violence, was finally picture-locked after a grueling year-long effort. With the project at a standstill and nothing immediate to work on, an old familiar feeling began to sink in: What’s next?

I opened up a fresh page on my notepad and started jotting down some ideas. With every new project, I strive to do a complete 180 on what I had done previously, while also aiming to challenge myself even more. With MK Ultra Violence being a psychological, conspiratorial horror film, that wouldn’t be hard, and I knew I didn’t want to do another horror film (but would go on to win Best Horror Short at the 2024 Nightmares Film Festival for Jack about a year later).

Then, I was hit with a single image: a street fight, set in a rural Tennessean trailer park, centered on a lean, platinum blonde-haired ex-boxer raising his bloodied fists to protect his swollen, beaten face, his eyes swollen so much he can hardly see, shouting at his opponent for “one more round.” I didn’t know who this man was, what the story was about, or how he got there. The only thing I knew was his name was KNUCKLES. This imagery harkened back to characters I grew up idolizing at a very young age: Rocky Balboa, John McClane, Gabe Walker, and Martin Riggs…

The summer of 2001 was monumental for me. It was the first Sunday of June: the windows were open, curtains flapping in the gentle breeze, the grass was freshly cut, and the distant sound of children playing in the cul-de-sac echoed throughout the house. And where was I? Down in my cold, cemented basement, huddled on a 1970s-era plaid rocking chair ready for TNT’s Sunday Night Movies. Back when ratings meant something, there was “Prime Time” television, the time at which you could guarantee almost everyone in America was seated in their living rooms and watching their favorite programs.

I was a movie lover at a young age, often seeking action flicks that would give me the thrills that ordinary life in elementary school could never achieve. And that Sunday evening program was Cliffhanger. To put it mildly, it was a shot to the arm that invigorated my soul. After the end credits, an ad popped up to promote next Sunday’s programming, Lethal Weapon. It was a 15-second ad showcasing the iconic scene atop the rooftop, where Martin Riggs handcuffs himself to the suicidal man, asking him “Do you really wanna jump? Do you wanna? Well, then that’s just fine with me!” Cut to Danny Glover proclaiming his infamous line “I’m too old for this shit” and the rest was history. I was in. 

Since it was the summer and there was no school, a week felt like a month, with the luxury of childhood boredom placating most of my time. Luckily I had Vacation Bible School to attend that next morning to keep me busy, but that image of Mel Gibson’s psychotic yet charming look in his eyes just as he jumped off the building imprinted itself on my mind.

The next Sunday prime time couldn’t come any sooner. Back on that cozy rocking chair, I sat in front of my 8-inch analog TV and waited for Lethal Weapon to air. The classic WB logo came on and I was struck with a familiar holiday tune “Jingle Bell Rock” while a sweeping helicopter shot showcased downtown Los Angeles during blue hour. It was off putting at first. “Is this a Christmas movie? It’s the middle of June!” I thought to myself (I had yet to see Die Hard).

The film begins with several different iconic scenes, stacked one after another: Amanda Hunsaker, an innocent, beautiful blonde woman, coked out of her mind, tragically falls to her death from her apartment balcony. Then, we’re introduced to Roger Murtaugh (Danny Glover) on his 50th birthday, with a surprise birthday cake from his family, and Martin Riggs, who successfully busts a sting operation by going absolutely berzerk on the drug dealers, creating a quick but memorable shootout in a Christmas-tree lot. It sets the stage for the stark differences between Roger’s world and Martin’s. 

It’s not until later that we see the real Martin Riggs, played so effortlessly by Mel Gibson in a bleak and haunting moment. He’s alone, in his trailer, residing on El Matador State Beach in Malibu. Despite Looney Tunes playing on the television in the background, the mood is eerie and unsettling. Surrounded by empty beer cans, Martin’s eyes well up with tears, his face hiding a deep tragedy. He’s looking at a wedding picture of his beautiful wife Victoria Lynn Riggs, who we learn died tragically in a car crash two years prior, later revealed to be orchestrated by our villain, General Peter McCallister.

What seems to be a mellow moment becomes much more shocking as Riggs puts down the picture frame and holds up a gun to his forehead. The music (scored by Michael Kamen and Eric Clapton) ramps up in intensity. He loads a hollow-point bullet in his Beretta, puts it in his mouth - just before he’s ready to meet his maker, he collapses in raw shame and emotional despair, as he holds onto the picture of Vicky. 

Normally a scene like this would be too obvious, even too melodramatic for the audience to believe, but it’s the way Mel, director Richard Donner, and screenwriter Shane Black handle the material. Especially Mel, who’s channeling in his own personal rage. Donner encouraged Gibson to tap into real emotion for this scene, and Gibson reportedly improvised much of the physicality—shaking, crying uncontrollably, and the way he collapses—drawing from a deeply personal place. Donner later said in interviews that Gibson’s commitment made the scene “uncomfortably real,” which was exactly what they wanted to contrast with Riggs’ later action-hero bravado. It’s a scene established early on to hook the audience into the “Lethal Weapon” Martin Riggs truly is, creating the clash between him and Dt. Murtaugh is all the more comedic and endearing later on. 

The series, despite growing much more comedic in tone and adding a slew of side characters, always kept Riggs intact; true to his character. A man who loves his golden retriever and Looney Tunes, but is ready to die at any given moment if it means taking down the bad guy. We see this play out with nearly every set piece, as he throws himself into dangerous situations with such utter childlike wonder, much to the peril of Murtaugh. But when there is a personal angle to it, Riggs is no stranger to letting out the beast against his foe. 

Take the climactic finale in Lethal Weapon 2. Riggs and Murtagh infiltrate a cargo ship filled with narcotics, ready to depart back to South Africa. In classic Lethal Weapon style, the place goes up in flames, as the two have a classic shoot ‘em up against South Africans in the foggy docks of LA (God, I miss the 80s). Riggs corners an open area of the cargo ship, seemingly all alone when a knife slides into the back of his thigh, and Vorstedt (one of our main villains) kicks Riggs’s gun away as the two men face off in an exhilarating final fight.

Riggs charges into Vorstedt’s stomach like a caged animal, with every punch and kick accompanied by a primal scream. You can tell by the look in his eyes he’s more than happy to die duking it out with his opponent. He welcomes death, but he won’t let his opponents forget the pain they inflicted on him. It’s an emotionally charged hand-to-hand combat and something we rarely see anymore in cinema…

Meet Nicky “Knuckles” Hughes

You can probably tell by now I’m a huge fan of fight scenes, specifically the final hand-to-hand fight. I was always disappointed whenever an action film lacked one, no matter how many shootouts, explosions and car chases it might have had. But what made those scenes all the more powerful was the hero we were rooting for, be it Rocky, John McClaine, or Martin Riggs. Kind of like the character inspired by them, Knuckles… 

Knuckles is a proof-of-concept short film about Nicky, played by Taylor Novak, a recently widowed ex-boxer, drowning in grief from the sudden tragic loss of his wife on the night of their wedding. When his younger brother, Tucker, played by Terrifier 3 star Mason Mecartea, is brutally beaten by an old rival, Knuckles must decide whether to fight for his future or let the past destroy everything he loves.

Much like Riggs, Knuckles is a man full of unbridled rage. But unlike Riggs, he’s a man of few words. He stews in his trailer, only stepping out to hit the heavy back and run around the neighborhood. His relationship with his brother is strained, and he grows increasingly worried for him. He’s lost meaning, and only gets lives to let out the rage in the only way he can: his fists. He’s a character that I’ve been excited to bring to life for a while now, and this project is an opportunity for my crew and I to bring back tragic heroes burdened by trauma like Martin Riggs on film.

Lately, I’ve grown tired of the stale, lifeless, muddy military ops action films we seem to get these days, which tend to be lathered with nonsensical handheld camera work and schizophrenic editing that will make you vomit in your popcorn bucket. Or, the 5’1 female Mary Sue that takes down a fleet of brutish men in a dimly lit hallway in 12 seconds (see Captain America: Brave New World for more clarification.) No matter who’s fighting, it looks so incredibly staged and choreographed, leaving no impression of realism or grit. 

I’ve been hungry to see a genuine, charismatic hero on screen with a tragic past. I want to see your average Joe, a guy that can hold his own in a fight but will also kick back on the couch and laugh his ass off to Looney Tunes. He needs to get his ass kicked but still gets back up. The guy whose heart has been broken, but rather than withering in self-pity, he lets it out in altercations with his opponents and learns how to control that beast inside him by the end. It’s relatable, it’s blue-collar, it’s American. 

This year I embark on that journey to bring this style of hero back into the culture. It’s a story I’m excited to tell, and a character I’m thrilled to bring to life. Many of my actors and collaborators were in from the minute I told them the idea, and I think audiences will too. Earlier this week, our team launched our Indiegogo campaign, and so far reached 20% of our goal within the first eight hours. If you, like myself, miss masculine heroes like Martin Riggs, consider donating to our campaign.

You can learn more about it here.