Call me crazy if it makes you feel better, but director Mark Goldblatt's 1989 balls-out action masterpiece The Punisher is probably one of the strongest comic book adaptations I've seen in my short time upon this earth. Unlike Jonathan Hensleigh's glossy 2004 effort of the same name, Goldblatt's version of the source material is dark, dreary, and stuffed like ravioli with so much graphic violence that it borders on sensory overload. And while each film has its own unique stable of quirks and flaws, I'm of the unpopular belief that Boaz Yakin's script captures the spirit of Frank Castle's mission to deliver unsanitized justice to the criminal population much better than its more recent counterpart. There's not a popsicle to be found in this flick, dear readers.

Just lots of huge guns and hundreds of empty shell casings. Awww, yeah.

Besides, any film that features the charismatically bankrupt John Travolta as the primary villain isn't going to get high marks on its cinematic report card. Though he's capable of delivering quality performances when a good script and a competent director are in perfect alignment, Travolta doesn't possess the kind of sinister demeanor required to accurately portray a modern-day action bad guy. Travolta is just way too soft and goofy to be anything other than a mildly entertaining comedic actor who occasionally turns in a performance that doesn't make you want to jab at your eyes with sharp objects. Broken Arrow, anyone? That's what I thought.

With The Punisher, action hero Dolph Lundgren tackles the role of the mysterious Frank Castle, a former cop who spends most of his time dwelling in smelly sewers after his entire family is brutally butchered in a car bomb attack. Since everyone believes that ol' Frank died right alongside his wife and kids in the explosion, our hero has the luxury of slinking around the city as a sort of urban legend, a gun-toting spectre who dispatches the local mob population with all the sensitivity of a rusty thumb tack. In the span of roughly five years, Mr. Castle has amassed a grotesque collection of dead bodies totaling in the hundreds. And despite the best efforts of his former partner (Louis Gossett, Jr.), he continues to dish out his own unique brand of street justice.

Unbeknownst to Frank, his neverending quest to squash New York City's underworld has left its leaders vulnerable to attack from a squadron of sinister Yakuza types who are looking to leave their mark on the local drug trade. Their strategy: kidnap the children of the remaining crime lords and hold them for ransom. Feeling more than a little guilty for indirectly thrusting these innocent kids into harm's way, Frank decides to kill two little birdies with one enormous semi-automatic stone. Can this self-proclaimed army of one rescue the children and eliminate the Yakuza without getting himself obliterated in the process?