Contemporary film audiences often accuse them of being too political, too diverse, or too focused on social issues. But here’s the thing: action movies from the 1980s and 90s, often held up as the golden era of non-political entertainment, were already engaging with many of the themes people now can't stand.
Look closely, and you’ll see those classic blockbusters were not just about explosions and one-liners. They tackled racism, PTSD, corruption, masculinity, and more, all under the guise of adrenaline-fueled entertainment.
For example, on the surface, Lethal Weapon is your prototypical 80s buddy-cop action series: mismatched partners, car chases, shootouts, and a bombastic soundtrack.
But underneath all the chaos, the series is remarkably progressive, even by today’s standards.
Racial dynamics: Danny Glover’s Roger Murtaugh wasn’t just the straight-laced family man to Mel Gibson’s loose-cannon Martin Riggs. He was also a rare Black lead in a mainstream franchise at a time when Hollywood was dominated by white male heroes.
The films never shied away from showing Murtaugh's experience as a Black man in America. Whether dealing with drug rings in South Central L.A. or racially motivated hate crimes. Lethal Weapon 2, in particular, took direct aim at apartheid-era South Africa.
It also includes many other themes.
Anti-apartheid message: That sequel’s villains were South African diplomats exploiting immunity to traffic drugs. This is hardly subtle, and certainly political.
If that came out today, social media may light up calling it "woke." Back then? It was just part of the plot.
Mental health and veterans’ issues: Riggs wasn’t just “crazy” for laughs. He was a deeply broken man dealing with grief, PTSD, and suicidal ideation, stemming from military trauma and personal loss. Lethal Weapon portrayed those issues with surprising sensitivity—long before mental health entered mainstream dialogue.
Masculinity and emotional healing: The films continuously challenged what it means to be a man.
Murtaugh’s commitment to his family was presented as strength, not weakness. Riggs’ arc was about letting go of self-destruction and learning to trust others. It’s a portrait of male vulnerability rarely seen in the genre even today.
In Die Hard (1988), McClane is a working-class cop dealing with a changing world and his wife’s career success. He does not understand corporate America, and in its own way, explores class, gender roles, and masculine identity, all while blowing up a skyscraper.
Sure it's not played to in an obvious way, but it is an example of taking real-world issues and using them to create human conflict.
Robocop (1987) is a satirical takedown of corporate power, police militarisation, and media desensitisation.
It doesn’t pull punches, while Demolition Man (1993) is an exaggerated vision of the future that directly mocks authoritarian safetyism, political correctness, and censorship, long before those terms were part of the cultural zeitgeist.
So why were audiences in the 80s and 90s able to accept these themes as part of the ride, while similar narratives today draw criticism?
The difference lies in visibility, discourse, and awareness.
Back then, there was no Twitter, no TikTok, no viral outrage cycle. You walked out of the cinema, maybe talked about it with friends, and moved on. Today, audiences are far more engaged, and polarized. A single line of dialogue or casting choice can spark weeks of online debate, meme wars, and think pieces.
Social media has made it impossible to “just watch the movie.”
Every film gets dissected in real-time, sometimes from development through to release and every theme, character, or perceived agenda becomes a battleground. That’s not inherently bad, it’s part of a more informed and empowered audience.
But it also means nuance can get lost, and films once praised for layered storytelling are now reduced to hashtags.
At the same time, growing advocacy and representation movements have raised expectations. Viewers are more attuned to whose stories are being told, who’s behind the camera, and what messages are being sent. That awareness is valuable, but it also means filmmakers are walking a tighter rope.
The reality is that the 80s and 90s weren’t a politically neutral era.
They were shaped by Cold War tensions (Red Heat anyone), racial justice movements, rising crime rates, Reaganomics, and shifting gender roles. Those realities were baked into the scripts of the era's biggest action films whether audiences realised it or not.
Today's films reflect today’s issues, just like those older films reflected theirs. The difference is we can’t ignore the messaging anymore, because we’re all part of the conversation now.
So maybe it’s time to stop accusing action movies of “going woke” and start recognising that the genre has always been socially engaged. We’re just finally paying attention.