The Jean-Claude Van Damme Film Anna Kendrick Can’t Stop Praising—And Why It’s Shockingly Beautiful
OPINION: This article may contain commentary which reflects the author's opinion.
Anna Kendrick has made a career out of surprising audiences—whether belting a cappella in Pitch Perfect, delivering sharp wit in Up in the Air, or recently stepping behind the camera for her directorial debut, Woman of the Hour. But perhaps her most unexpected revelation came not in a performance, but in a list of her all-time favorite films.
Nestled alongside acclaimed classics like In Bruges and His Girl Friday was a choice that caught many off guard: JCVD, the 2008 satirical black comedy starring Jean-Claude Van Damme.
A Different Kind of Van Damme Film
For the uninitiated, JCVD isn’t a high-kicking action spectacle. Instead, it’s a meta, self-aware portrait of a fictionalized Van Damme—broke, disillusioned, and caught in the middle of a post office heist in his Belgian hometown.
In modern terms, it’s the action star’s version of The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent—a movie that turns its lead actor into a heightened version of themselves to explore fame, failure, and self-perception. While JCVD didn’t set box office records, it earned critical praise for its wit, vulnerability, and surprisingly poignant storytelling.
Why Kendrick Calls It “Perfect”
Speaking to Rotten Tomatoes, Kendrick didn’t hold back in her admiration:
“JCVD was just bang-on the entire time. It was just so lean and solid and this perfect blend of dark humour and some really genuinely touching moments.”
It’s that blend, she says, that elevates the film from clever satire to something deeply moving. And for Kendrick—a performer with a sharp eye for both comedic timing and emotional truth—it’s exactly the kind of cinematic balance she values.
The Scene That Changed Everything
Much of the film’s acclaim centers on one unforgettable moment: a fourth-wall-breaking monologue where Van Damme rises above the set—literally and figuratively—to speak directly to the audience. Fighting back tears, he reflects on fame, money, love, addiction, and the toll of a life spent in the public eye.
The performance blurs the line between the fictional “JCVD” and the real man behind the action hero persona, revealing a fragility that few had seen from the Muscles from Brussels. It’s the sort of scene that reframes an actor’s entire career in a matter of minutes.
As Kendrick puts it: “It’s such a beautiful thing when you’re watching a movie and they manage to take you there.”
Why It Matters
Director and co-writer Mabrouk el Mechri saw past the Hollywood archetype, crafting a story that exposed Van Damme’s humanity without mocking it. And Kendrick’s praise for JCVD isn’t just about championing an underrated film—it’s a reminder of what great cinema can do: surprise us, move us, and challenge our expectations of both artists and genres.
By putting JCVD in her personal canon, Kendrick signals that her love of movies isn’t confined to prestige dramas or crowd-pleasers. Instead, it’s guided by a deeper appreciation for risk-taking, emotional honesty, and the moments that catch us off guard.
Because sometimes, the most powerful punch in a Jean-Claude Van Damme film isn’t a roundhouse kick—it’s a tear.
If you’d like, I can also craft a feature-style opening scene imagining Kendrick describing that pivotal JCVD monologue, to give this piece a more cinematic, magazine-profile feel. That would make the reader feel like they’re watching the scene unfold right beside her.
