The 100 Most Underrated Heroes & Villains of Action Cinema (40-21)

Reading Time: 23 minutes

In the high-octane world of action movies, legends are born in the blink of an explosion. We all know the usual suspects—the invincible heroes, the iconic villains, the characters whose faces are plastered across posters and pop culture forever. Names like John McClane, Ethan Hunt, and the T-800 are etched into the collective memory of moviegoers. But for every genre-defining icon, there are a dozen others who flew under the radar—characters who brought just as much firepower, style, or menace, but never quite got their due. Maybe their film didn’t have a blockbuster budget. Maybe they were buried in a crowded ensemble. Or maybe they were just ahead of their time, waiting for the rest of the world to catch up. Whether they’re fiercely determined underdogs, cool-headed assassins, or villains so slick you almost root for them, these characters prove that greatness doesn’t always come with a franchise. From overlooked performances to hidden gems in cult classics, here are the unsung heroes and villains who deserve a second look… and maybe their own franchise.

These are the 100 Most Underrated Heroes & Villains of Action Cinema.


40. Joshua Foss (Powers Boothe) | Sudden Death (1995)

Sudden Death may be little more than Die Hard on ice but it’s elevated beyond standard action fare by the performance of Powers Boothe alone. The man was born to play villains, with Joshua Foss being one of his most entertaining. Foss is a former government operative turned mercenary, orchestrating a high-stakes hostage crisis during Game 7 of the Stanley Cup Finals. His target: the Vice President of the United States and a suite full of dignitaries. His demand: hundreds of millions transferred to offshore accounts or the arena blows sky-high. What makes Joshua Foss so compelling isn’t just his intelligence or ruthlessness—it’s how much he enjoys the chaos.

He’s a man who thrives on pressure, viewing mass murder as just another item on a checklist. Boothe plays Foss with controlled arrogance and lethal precision. He’s smooth-talking, sardonic, and completely in control, evoking shades of Alan Rickman’s Hans Gruber but with a colder edge. Whether he’s casually threatening a hostage or outwitting the Secret Service, Foss maintains a sense of unflappable calm. His authority isn’t just in his words—it’s in his eyes, his posture, the measured way he delivers ultimatums. In a film filled with explosions, hockey-fueled mayhem, and one-man heroics from Jean-Claude Van Damme, Foss is the still center of the storm: methodical, smug, and terrifying.


39. Darkwolf (Steve Sandor) | Fire and Ice (1983)

Darkwolf (voiced by Steve Sandor) stands as the Fire and Ice‘s mysterious and formidable warrior-hero—a lone figure cloaked in primal strength and mythic presence. While the film centers on the young protagonist Larn and the conflict between the fiery realm of Firekeep and the icy domain of Nekron, it’s Darkwolf who emerges as the true force of vengeance and justice in this savage fantasy world. He is a man of few words but immense power, instantly striking with his horned helmet, battle axe, and wolf-like ferocity. Unlike Larn, who grows into a hero through struggle, Darkwolf arrives fully formed—an unstoppable protector and slayer of evil.

There’s an air of mystery around him; his origin is never fully explained, and that ambiguity adds to his legendary aura. He’s less a character and more a living embodiment of ancient justice, cutting through swarms of foes with supernatural ease. Although a minor character, every appearance of Darkwolf feels like a turning point in the film; he’s the one you trust to get the job done when the stakes are at their highest. He’s a cross between Conan and Batman drawn by Frank Frazetta and Ralph Bakshi decided to make the other guy the lead. If Darkwolf was the main character, I truly believe this movie wouldn’t languish in semi obscurity, it would be considered a fantasy masterpiece. He’s that badass.


38. Madam Yeung (Yukari Ōshima) | Iron Angels (1987)

One of the more obscure entries in the “Girls with Guns” subgenre, Iron Angels is Hong Kong’s answer to Charlie’s Angels but with a villain so nasty, her actions could never be broadcast on ’70s television. The film opens with a military drug bust that leaves many dead and the heads of the Triad extremely pissed. Chief among them—Madam Yeung who goes on a ballistic on anyone she feels responsible for her missing cocaine. As the film’s central antagonist, Madam Yeung isn’t just a villain; she’s a force of nature, commanding her criminal empire with icy elegance and explosive violence. She cuts off rivals fingers and has no problem having people blown away in front of their children. Yukari Ōshima’s performance is nothing short of electric. She’s a high-octane blend of ruthless charisma and martial arts precision that steals every scene she’s in.

With her sharp features, calculated movements, and intense screen energy, she crafts a villainess who’s as stylish as she is lethal. Madam Yeung isn’t content to sit back and issue orders—she gets her hands dirty, often personally engaging in the film’s most brutal, high-speed fight sequences. Whether wielding knives, guns, or going hand-to-hand, she moves with a coiled fury that’s both terrifying and mesmerizing. What sets Madam Yeung apart from many ’80s action antagonists is her complexity. She’s not cartoonishly evil—she’s intelligent, composed, and commanding.

There’s a sense of control in how she operates, always a few steps ahead of her enemies. Yukari Ōshima’s performance helped redefine what a female villain could be in martial arts cinema. She wasn’t just tough “for a woman”—she was tough, period. In a film packed with adrenaline and gunfire, Madam Yeung is the standout: a deadly icon of Hong Kong action who exudes power, confidence, and cold-blooded grace. Thank God for Vinegar Syndrome for releasing this trilogy because this performance (and the film as a whole) deserves as big an audience as possible.


37. Charlie Wax (John Travolta) | From Paris with Love (2010)

Charlie Wax is a wild-card CIA operative who crashes into the film like a grenade with a badge. Loud, unpredictable, and dripping with bravado, Charlie is the kind of character who chews scenery as easily as he mows down bad guys. With his shaved head, goatee, and love for fast food and faster shootouts, Wax feels like a mash-up of Dirty Harry, a berserk uncle, and a caffeine-fueled demolition expert. Travolta dives into the role with gleeful abandon, playing Wax as an unfiltered American bulldozer let loose on the streets of Paris. He’s paired with Jonathan Rhys Meyers’ straight-laced diplomat assistant, creating a classic odd-couple dynamic. While Meyers’ character prefers precision and protocol, Wax kicks in doors, snorts coke to prove a point, and delivers shoot-first-one-liner-later justice. The contrast between the two makes for both comedy and chaos.

What makes Charlie Wax memorable isn’t just his over-the-top style or body count—it’s the sense that behind all the madness, he actually knows what he’s doing. Beneath the vulgar swagger and trigger-happy theatrics lies a razor-sharp operative who sees the bigger picture, often several steps ahead of everyone else. Travolta plays him with a twinkle in his eye, suggesting that maybe, just maybe, Wax is enjoying the carnage a bit too much. Ultimately, Charlie Wax is a cartoonish yet captivating figure—a cinematic whirlwind of bullets, burgers, and bravado. He’s not subtle, and he’s definitely not safe, but in the gritty spy world of From Paris with Love, he’s exactly the chaos agent needed to get the job done. It’s a shame this movie never got a sequel because Travolta has never been this fun before or since.


36. Elliott Marston (Alan Rickman) | Quigley Down Under (1990)

Alan Rickman will forever be associated with Harry Potter, Die Hard and Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves (and Galaxy Quest if you’re cool like David Mamet) but I think it’s about time to add Quigley Down Under to that list. As Elliott Marston, he delivers as good a villain performance as he’s ever given but without the campy theatrics of the Sheriff of Nottingham. He’s a cold-blooded land baron with delusions of grandeur and a terrifying sense of entitlement. He believes the outback is his empire, and everyone on it, including the Aboriginal population, exists to serve or be erased. Rickman plays Marston with his signature blend of refinement and menace.

On the surface, he’s a polished gentleman with tailored suits and a taste for fine things, but underneath lurks a sadistic egotist obsessed with power and legacy. He fancies himself an old-school Western gunslinger, idolizing the American frontier mythos—yet he’s also a coward who surrounds himself with hired killers and exerts cruelty from behind the safety of his wealth. What makes Marston so effective as a villain is Rickman’s ability to make him both detestable and compelling. He’s charming in the way a snake might be—calculated, watchful, and quick to strike. His interactions with Tom Selleck’s Quigley are loaded with arrogance and insecurity.

Marston hires Quigley for his sharpshooting, but when the American refuses to carry out a genocidal mission against Aboriginal people, Marston’s fragile ego turns to rage. His performance elevates Selleck’s and shows how good an actor Magnum P.I. could be if given the right material. By the final act, Marston’s downfall feels earned—not just because of his actions, but because of the way he underestimates everyone around him. His obsession with being the “fastest draw” becomes his fatal flaw, revealing that underneath all the bravado, he’s a small man trying to live out a fantasy he never had the guts to earn.


35. Joji Kano (Sonny Chiba) | Doberman Cop (1977)

Doberman Cop is a film that straddles many genres. Part yakuza thriller, part pulp detective story, part social satire, part action comedy—the films throws everything at the wall to see what sticks and while that may seem like a mess on paper, Sonny Chiba’s central performance keeps it all from falling apart. He’s Joji Kano, a rural Okinawan detective dropped into the gritty, chaotic underbelly of 1970s Tokyo. At first glance, Kano is a fish out of water. He wears a tan leather jacket, a straw hat and travels around with a live pig (a gift from home). He sticks out in the urban sprawl like a sore thumb.

But what makes the character compelling is how he subverts this seemingly comic image with a strong moral center, a sharp intuition, and a feral toughness that outmatches even the city’s most hardened criminals. Kano isn’t your standard cinematic cop. He’s more of a wild card—part detective, part cowboy, part martial arts bruiser. Unlike the corrupt or cynical officers around him, he’s driven not by ego or vengeance but by loyalty and justice. When he’s sent to Tokyo to investigate the death of a girl believed to be from his village, he refuses to accept the official story.

Instead, he follows his instincts, digging deeper even as others mock or threaten him. Sonny Chiba brings a magnetic physicality to the role, blending raw power with a surprising gentleness. His fight scenes are intense and visceral, showcasing Chiba’s signature martial arts flair, but it’s Kano’s empathy—his concern for victims, his respect for tradition, and his personal code—that really define him. Don’t let the film’s title fool you into thinking he’s a dangerous renegade acting like an uncontrollable beast, he’s actually deeply human character, one who values truth over bureaucracy and compassion over conformity. It’s a bit of a departure from most Chiba performances that shows a side I wish he showed more in films.


34. Shack (Ernest Borgnine) | Emperor of the North (1973)

There was a string of films in the late ’60s that all dealt with lovable rebels sticking it to the “man.” Whether it was the unflappable Paul Newman, the effortlessly cool Steve McQueen or the kings of the counterculture Fonda and Hopper, you weren’t a hero unless you took on the establishment. But in each and every one of those films, the “man” wins. Emperor of the North feels like a reaction to that wave of ’60s nihilism. Borgnine plays Shack, a sadistic train conductor during the great depression who delights in beating any vagrants he finds riding his train to death.

He’s a malicious bully who rules with an iron fist, that is ,until A-No.-1 (Lee Marvin) decides to challenge his authority. The film’s message couldn’t be less subtle if it tried but a villain doesn’t need to be subtle to be effective; they just have to be evil and Shack is as evil as they come. For about the last thirty years of his life, Borgnine was essentially the male version of Betty White. He was America’s favorite elderly person who was always cast as an old teddy bear in human form but if you’re old enough to remember, there was a time where he was the meanest sumbitch in town. For the first twenty or so years of his life, he always played the heavy and in all that time, he never played anyone half as loathsome as Shack.


33. Magobei Wakizaka (Tatsuya Nakadai) | Goyokin (1969)

Magobei Wakizaka is a samurai caught between loyalty and morality—a man trying to right a terrible wrong in a world where honor and corruption often wear the same mask. Tatsuya Nakadai’s portrayal is quiet, brooding, and deeply human. He isn’t a warrior chasing glory or revenge; he’s chasing redemption. Years before the film begins, Magobei stood by as his clan slaughtered innocent villagers to steal government gold (goyokin) to cover their own failings. Disgusted, he left the clan and turned his back on samurai life. But when he learns that the same crime is about to happen again, he returns—not to obey orders, but to stop the massacre he once allowed.

What makes Magobei such a powerful character is his stillness. He moves with precision, speaks with calm, but inside he’s all turmoil. Nakadai captures this beautifully: the pain in his eyes, the weariness in his voice, the way he carries his sword like a burden rather than a badge. Unlike many cinematic samurai, Magobei is not fueled by vengeance—he’s driven by guilt and a fierce determination to prevent history from repeating itself. The journey he takes is not just across snowy landscapes and shadowy forests—it’s a moral one. He’s a man who once chose silence and now chooses action, even if it means standing alone.

And in that, Goyokin becomes more than a story about samurai or stolen gold. It’s about accountability, and how even in a rigid, hierarchical world, one man can choose to break from the past and do what’s right. There are so many samurai films, that legit masterpieces get lost simply due to the insane amount of them people have to dig through to find. Like westerns or noirs, you usually need a guide to point you to the goods and unfortunately there aren’t enough people who have seen this to even recommend it to others. It is in desperate need of a Criterion release so that everyone can discover anew how great it is and how phenomenal Nakadai is in the role.


32. Hammer Girl (Julie Estelle) and Baseball Bat Man (Very Tri Yulisman) | The Raid 2 (2014)

In The Raid 2, Hammer Girl (Julie Estelle) and Baseball Bat Man (Very Tri Yulisman) explode onto the screen like a pair of comic book assassins dropped into a brutal crime saga. They don’t speak much (if at all) but their presence is unforgettable, thanks to their striking designs, unorthodox weapons, and a balletic savagery that turns every fight scene into a vicious, surreal dance. Hammer Girl, with her black trench coat, sunglasses, and twin claw hammers, is both terrifying and tragic. A deaf assassin, she moves with eerie calm, her silence amplifying the ferocity of her attacks. Julie Estelle plays her not as a mindless killer, but as someone who’s emotionally detached—damaged yet focused, expressing herself only through violence. Her hammer duels are some of the most jaw-dropping sequences in the film, blending elegance and gore in equal measure.

Baseball Bat Man is her brother-in-arms, literally swinging for the fences. He brings a manic energy to every scene, carrying his bat like it’s an extension of his body. Yulisman infuses the character with swagger, he doesn’t just beat his enemies; he plays with them. His street duel, where he smacks baseballs at enemies before chasing them down with practiced swings, is as inventive as it is brutal. Together, there are less characters and more force-of-nature set pieces—stylized killers designed to push Rama (Iko Uwais) to his limits. But they’re not just boss fights; they linger in the mind because of their visual identity and physical storytelling. They don’t need dialogue or backstory to be memorable—they carve their legacy into the film with every swing and strike.


31. Det. Sgt. Tim “Freebie” Walker (James Caan) and Det. Sgt. Dan “Bean” Delgado (Alan Arkin) | Freebie and the Bean (1974)

James Caan and Alan Arkin play one of the wildest, most chaotic cop duos to ever barrel through a buddy movie. Det. Sgt. Tim “Freebie” Walker is the brash, impulsive cowboy of the pair—loud, fast-talking, and always inches from causing a five-car pile-up. Arkin’s Det. Sgt. Dan “Bean” Delgado is the nervous counterbalance: wound tight, deeply skeptical, and perpetually on the verge of a meltdown. Together, they’re less a law enforcement team and more a walking demolition crew with badges. Set against the gritty backdrop of 1970s San Francisco, Freebie and the Bean isn’t just a crime comedy, it’s a slapstick grenade lobbed into the buddy cop genre.

Caan and Arkin have a volatile, almost dangerous chemistry. They bicker, threaten, and insult each other constantly, but there’s an odd loyalty under the chaos, a sense that they’d take a bullet for one another—even if they’d complain about it the whole time. What makes the characters so compelling is their sheer unpredictability. Freebie is the kind of guy who’ll crash a car into a building just to chase a lead, while Bean spends most of his time yelling at Freebie for doing exactly that—before inevitably joining in. They operate by instinct and attitude rather than procedure, often blurring the line between cops and criminals themselves.

Yet despite their recklessness (and the fact that they’re far from morally clean) they somehow remain likable. Maybe it’s because they genuinely care about solving the case. Maybe it’s because the film paints them as underdogs in a corrupt, collapsing system. Or maybe it’s just because Caan and Arkin are so kinetic, their scenes practically vibrate with energy. Freebie and Bean aren’t role models. They’re not even especially competent. But they’re unforgettable: a messy, brawling, deeply human portrait of two guys who’ve seen too much, care too hard, and blow everything up in the process.


30. Eric Masters (Willem Dafoe) | To Live and Die in L.A. (1985)

A counterfeiter in any other movie would’ve had a henchman or hired muscle and they would act as the primary antagonist but since To Live and Die in L.A. cast Willem Dafoe in the role, there’s no need for anyone else to perform nefarious acts, he’s more than capable of doing them all himself. Eric Masters isn’t just a counterfeiter; he’s an artist turned criminal, a man who manipulates not just ink and paper, but people, systems, and morality itself. What sets Masters apart from your typical movie antagonist is his poise. He’s refined, calculated, and patient. He creates counterfeit bills with the same precision and passion he applies to his paintings, blurring the lines between creation and corruption. His workshop feels less like a criminal lair than a studio, highlighting how Friedkin positions crime in the film as just another facet of self-expression in a morally bankrupt world.

Dafoe plays Masters with an eerie calm. There’s a quiet arrogance in his performance — not loud or flamboyant, but deeply rooted in the belief that he’s smarter than everyone around him. And for most of the film, he is. Even when he kills, it feels methodical rather than emotional. He treats betrayal like business, not drama.The brilliance of Masters lies in how the film refuses to paint him as a simple foil to the reckless Secret Service agent Richard Chance (William Petersen). In fact, both characters are two sides of the same coin: obsessive, rule-breaking, and driven by their own code. The difference is, Masters is cool where Chance is impulsive, and where Chance pretends to be righteous, Masters doesn’t bother with the act.


29. Madmartigan (Val Kilmer) | Willow (1988)

If Star Wars was George Lucas’s attempt at doing his version of Flash Gordon, Willow is clearly his take on The Hobbit / The Lord of the Rings. While his sci-fi baby evolved past its influences, Willow is still very much tied to them. It isn’t a bad film but it suffers from unoriginality and poor pacing. But it does have one element I’d argue that’s better than anything Tolkien ever wrote and that’s the character of Madmartigan. Val Kilmer bursts onto the screen as a chaotic, swaggering rogue — the kind of character who seems like he’s been living in his own adventure long before the film started. At first glance, he’s the classic fantasy scoundrel: cocky, untrustworthy, and more interested in self-preservation than heroism.

But over the course of the film, Kilmer shapes the character into something richer, a reluctant hero who finds purpose, loyalty, and love in a world he never expected to fight for. When we first meet Madmartigan, he’s literally locked in a cage, abandoned by his allies and left to rot. It’s the perfect introduction to a man whose life has been a string of betrayals, bad luck, and questionable choices. He talks fast, fights dirty, and never lets anyone forget how charming he is. Kilmer plays him with a mix of bravado and barely concealed desperation, which makes his transformation throughout the story feel earned rather than forced.

As he joins Willow’s quest (first out of necessity, then friendship) we start to see glimpses of who Madmartigan really is beneath the armor and sarcasm. He’s not just a warrior; he’s a man capable of deep loyalty and love, particularly once he meets Sorsha (Joanne Whalley). Their romance might seem sudden, but Kilmer infuses it with a mix of sincerity and fire that makes it one of the film’s emotional highlights. Unfortunately the film flopped at the box office killing any potential plans for an ongoing series but if it did get more sequels featuring Madmartigan, I believe the character could’ve done for fantasy what Jack Sparrow did for the swashbuckler.


28. Ramadhir Singh (Tigmanshu Dhulia) | Gangs of Wasseypur (2012)

In Gangs of Wasseypur, Ramadhir Singh is more than a villain, he is the embodiment of long-game politics, quiet ruthlessness, and systemic power. While the film swirls with volatile characters driven by blood feuds and pride, Ramadhir operates on a different wavelength: cold, calculating, and devastatingly patient. Where others act out of anger or ego, Ramadhir waits. He doesn’t chase revenge impulsively; he removes threats methodically — with a handshake or a hit, depending on what the situation demands.

Tigmanshu Dhulia plays him with an understated menace. There’s no shouting, no theatrics. His power lies in stillness, in his calm voice when delivering death sentences, in his ability to read the chaos around him and stay just one step ahead. He knows the game, and more importantly, he understands the players — especially the Khan family, whose decades-long vendetta against him forms the film’s spine. What makes him such a compelling figure is that he represents more than a personal antagonist.

He is the face of an entrenched system — one that co-opts crime, politics, and business into one seamless machine. As generations of Khans rise and fall in pursuit of revenge, he continues to climb, unshaken, until history finally catches up with him. In the brutal, sprawling saga that is Gangs of Wasseypur, Ramadhir Singh stands as a chilling counterpoint to all the hot-blooded chaos. He’s not the loudest or most violent man in the room — he’s simply the last one standing. And in Wasseypur, that’s all that really matters.


27. Black Dynamite (Michael Jai White) | Black Dynamite (2009)

A loving parody and homage to 1970s blaxploitation cinema, Black Dynamite blends satire with genuine affection for the genre—and at the center of it all is Michael Jai White’s unforgettable performance that should’ve done for his career what Austin Powers did for Mike Myers. Black Dynamite, the man, is a former CIA agent, Vietnam war veteran, kung fu master, and ladies’ man rolled into one slick, afro-rocking powerhouse. He’s the kind of mythic figure who can shoot pool blindfolded, roundhouse kick ten goons at once, and seduce an entire room without breaking a sweat. He’s got a haunted past (his brother Jimmy was killed in mysterious circumstances) and when the community starts suffering from a sinister drug epidemic, Dynamite comes out of retirement to bring righteous fury down on the perpetrators.

What makes the character so iconic is how seriously White plays him. Despite the absurdity of the film’s events (from conspiracies involving malt liquor to kung fu battles with Richard Nixon) Dynamite is never in on the joke. He’s dead serious, and that straight-faced dedication to justice and vengeance only makes the comedy sharper. Whether he’s growling, “I am smiling,” or bursting into a room with guns blazing, every moment is played with conviction.

Michael Jai White, who also co-wrote the film, infuses Black Dynamite with both physical prowess and genuine comic brilliance. He doesn’t just parody the tropes of the genre—he elevates them, giving us a character who is larger-than-life yet strangely grounded in the world the film builds. He is a righteous defender of his community, a one-man army against corruption, and a walking punchline who never lets you see him laugh. Black Dynamite is a cult hero for the ages: ridiculous, heroic, and endlessly quotable. Whether he’s cleaning up the streets or taking down “The Man,” you believe in him—because White is Black Dynamite.


26. Ryunosuke Tsukue (Tatsuya Nakadai) | The Sword of Doom (1966)

Ryunosuke Tsukue is one of the most haunting and enigmatic figures in samurai cinema. Far from the noble, duty-bound warrior ideal, Ryunosuke is a cold, ruthless swordsman whose unparalleled skill is matched only by his emotional void and moral decay. From the opening scenes, Ryunosuke is cast as an outlier, a man who kills not out of honor, but instinct. His expression is often unreadable, his movements precise, and his gaze distant, as if he’s already detached from the world around him. Nakadai plays him with an eerie calm, capturing a character whose sword seems to draw power from a bottomless pit of nihilism and inner torment. He kills without hesitation (sometimes with a blank face, sometimes with a flicker of satisfaction) but never with remorse.

Unlike many cinematic samurai, Ryunosuke has no moral compass, no redemptive arc. He drifts from place to place like a ghost, leaving behind a trail of bodies and fractured lives. He is not driven by vengeance or loyalty, but by an almost metaphysical compulsion to kill—his sword is, as the title suggests, doomed, cursed, an extension of his corrupted soul. Tatsuya Nakadai’s performance is mesmerizing. With minimal dialogue, he conveys a world of inner turmoil and suppressed madness. As the film progresses and his grip on reality begins to fray, Nakadai lets glimpses of madness seep through his otherwise stoic mask, culminating in one of the most surreal and haunting final scenes in samurai film history.


25. Ôgon Bat (Osamu Kobayashi) | The Golden Bat (1966)

Predating both comics, manga, and anime as we know it, The Golden Bat is one of the world’s oldest superheroes. Originating in the Japanese art of Kamishibai (translated as “paper theater”), these slide shows laid the groundwork for manga and even though they’re almost 100 years old, there are still stands operating today. That’s how popular he is in Japan — people will pay money to see someone narrate over stills when they can easily watch his adventures on their phones. And it’s not just Japan. Italy, Germany, and South Korea all have shows and movies dedicated to the character, with South Korea being so obsessed with him, that the rip-offs of him, also have rip-offs.

His influence can be seen on pop culture throughout the world and everything from TV to manga to anime has his fingerprints on it. While a good chunk of his movies have been lost to time, there is one that still exists. Released one year before the anime, the 1966 live-action movie stars future martial arts legend Sonny Chiba and is just as great as it is bananas. The film is about a group of scientists who must go to a mysterious island in the Pacific to find a special mineral to power the only laser strong enough to explode a rogue planet that’s about to collide with Earth. While there, they discover that the island is guarded by a mad scientist (alien?) who will stop anyone from discovering the mineral because he engineered the planets collision in the first place. But what the mad scientist doesn’t realize, is that the island is the home of a sleeping 10,000-year-old super mummy who just woke up and is now hungry for action.

Armed with a powerful cane that he uses to thwap anyone in his vicinity and with basically every other superpower in existence, The Golden Bat delights in beating the shit out of his foes so much, that his catchphrase is just him cackling to himself. This isn’t a superhero that follows the hero’s journey. He doesn’t have to train nor is he ever tested. He’s far more powerful than everyone else in the movie, so the fun is just watching him kick as much ass as he can in 90 minutes. He’s a super-powered mummy who can’t die, has every power imaginable, and laughs while he beats people with a stick. Why are we still obsessed with Superman and Batman again?


24. Wez (Vernon Wells) | The Road Warrior (1981)

The Mad Max films have produced some of the greatest villains of all time but inexplicably, the weirdest, wildest and most fascinating usually gets left out of the conversation. Sporting a red mohawk and leather bondage gear, Wez is instantly iconic—a chaotic mix of Mad Max-style scavenger aesthetics and raw, animalistic rage. As the psychotic enforcer for Lord Humungus (Kjell Nilsson), he is less a character and more a force of nature, snarling across the wasteland like a punk rock berserker on a death mission. He isn’t just a thug in the gang; he’s their most dangerous weapon, driven by bloodlust and an unrelenting thirst for revenge.

After the death of his young companion at the hands of Max and the settlers, Wez goes from violently unpredictable to laser-focused, turning into a vengeance machine with a grudge. The fact that his relationship with the twink he carries around is never explained adds to the character’s mystery. They’re obviously lovers, which makes him one of the more prominent gay villains whose sexuality isn’t part of their identity, but it definitely factors into his mission.

Wez is the perfect contrast to Max. Where Max is cool, calculating, and emotionally repressed, Wez is raw and explosive, a reflection of what Max could become if he gave in to the madness of the wasteland. Their confrontations aren’t just physical battles; they’re symbolic clashes between survival with a soul and survival through chaos. By the time the final chase roars across the desert, Wez has become a nearly mythic figure of wrath on wheels—screaming, slashing, refusing to die quietly. His end is fitting: explosive, tragic, and unforgettable. In a film filled with wild characters, Wez still manages to steal every scene he’s in. He’s not just a villain—he’s the apocalypse with a mohawk.


23. Cleopatra Jones (Tamara Dobson) | Cleopatra Jones (1973) & Cleopatra Jones and the Casino of Gold (1975)

Pam Grier is the undisputed Queen of blaxploitation but if the genre had a Princess, it would be Tamara Dobson. Vonetta McGee had a bigger career overall but she wasn’t Cleopatra Jones, so it doesn’t matter. A six-foot-two fashion-forward secret agent who redefined cool, class, and power in the world of 1970s action cinema, Cleopatra Jones was one of the defining characters of the genre. Across Cleopatra Jones and its sequel Casino of Gold, Dobson brought a commanding presence that blended blaxploitation swagger with James Bond flair, creating one of the genre’s most enduring icons. In the original 1973 film, Cleopatra takes on drug dealers corrupting her community, clashing with the flamboyant and vicious Mommy (Shelley Winters). The sequel takes her to Hong Kong, where she teams up with another badass woman (Tanny, played by Ni Tien) to bring down an international drug syndicate.

Cleopatra Jones isn’t your average action hero. She’s a U.S. government agent who fights drug lords by day and rocks high fashion by night. Whether she’s wielding a gun, driving muscle cars, or practicing martial arts, she handles every situation with absolute control, elegance, and unshakable confidence. Dobson plays her with icy poise and righteous fire, her Cleopatra is smart, strategic, and doesn’t suffer fools or villains lightly. What set Cleopatra apart was how effortlessly she combined glamour with grit. She wasn’t sexualized for the male gaze like many of her blaxploitation counterparts—instead, she owned her image. Dobson, a former model, carried herself like a queen, turning every outfit and every line of dialogue into a statement of power. She made it clear that femininity and toughness weren’t mutually exclusive—they were part of the same unstoppable package. And if you took a shot every time I said Cleopatra or Cleopatra Jones, congratulations—you’re drunk.


22. The Beast (Siu-Lung Leung) | Kung Fu Hustle (2004)

Introduced late in Kung Fu Hustle, The Beast is a subversive twist on the typical kung fu villain: outwardly disheveled, middle-aged, and seemingly unremarkable. He wears slippers, has a potbelly, and looks more like a retired accountant than a deadly killer. But this contrast between appearance and power is exactly what makes him so memorable. The Beast is built up as a near-mythical figure — a legendary assassin said to be so powerful that he was imprisoned for the good of society. When he is released by the Axe Gang to eliminate the heroes of Pig Sty Alley, he quickly establishes himself as a different breed of fighter. His style is raw and devastating, focused more on overwhelming force than graceful technique. What sets him apart isn’t just his physical power, but his calm, almost bored demeanor.

He treats combat like a game, grinning as he demolishes masters with frightening ease. Siu-Lung Leung plays the role with an understated menace. A seasoned martial arts actor from the golden age of Hong Kong cinema, his casting is a respectful nod to the genre’s past. He brings authenticity to the character, embodying the idea that true mastery in kung fu isn’t about flashy moves — it’s about control, confidence, and lethal efficiency. The Beast’s final showdown with Sing (Stephen Chow) unlocks his latent potential in the film’s climax. Their battle is both absurdly stylized and emotionally satisfying, representing the triumph of spiritual growth and heart over brute strength. In the end, The Beast acknowledges Sing’s superiority, offering not bitterness but admiration — a rare moment of humility in a villain who had once seen himself as unbeatable.


21. Ching (Michelle Yeoh), Tung (Anita Mui) & Chat (Maggie Cheung) | The Heroic Trio (1993)

Johnnie To, much like Takashi Miike, is a director seemingly addicted to making movies. He’s been making movies non-stop for 45 years, with no signs of stopping. Election, Drug War and The Mission seem to be the consensus picks for his best movies and while they’re certainly masterpieces, I would also throw The Heroic Trio in the mix. It’s a genre-blending Hong Kong action film that combines superhero tropes, wuxia stylings, and cyberpunk flair. At its center are three unforgettable women—Ching (Michelle Yeoh), Tung (Anita Mui), and Chat (Maggie Cheung)—each with a distinct persona, backstory, and fighting style that not only define the film’s action but also its emotional core. Ching is a tragic and conflicted figure.

Once an assassin working under the control of an evil overlord, she now lives a double life as the wife of a police inspector. Her invisibility (both literal, thanks to her high-tech cloak, and metaphorical) mirrors her internal struggle between loyalty and guilt, love and duty. Tung is the film’s moral compass and emotional anchor. As the caped vigilante Wonder Woman, she fights crime with a mixture of nobility and unshakable resolve. Chat is pure chaos and charisma. A wild, leather-clad mercenary with a punk aesthetic and a huge gun, she’s in it for the money—until she isn’t. Together, Ching, Tung, and Chat represent different archetypes of female heroism—redemption, righteousness, and rebellion. Their fights are spectacular, but it’s their emotional entanglements, loyalties, and evolution that elevate The Heroic Trio beyond its pulpy, fantastical setup.


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What are some of your favorite underrated action characters? Maybe they will show up in the Top 10!

Author: Sailor Monsoon

I stab.