Alright fellow tapeheads, slide that well-worn copy of Steel into the VCR (you know the one, probably got it from a bargain bin back in the day) and let’s talk about a superhero movie that… well, it certainly happened. Released in 1997, this flick attempted to bring DC Comics' armored hero to life, starring none other than the legendary basketball giant Shaquille O'Neal. It was a time before the MCU, before superhero films became slick, billion-dollar behemoths. This was the wild west, folks, and Steel is one strange, clunky, yet fascinating relic from that era.

The premise itself isn't half bad, drawing loosely from the character created by Louise Simonson and Jon Bogdanove in the wake of Superman's comic book death. Shaquille O'Neal plays John Henry Irons, a brilliant U.S. Army metallurgist and weapons designer working alongside Lt. Nathaniel Burke (Judd Nelson, yes, that Judd Nelson from The Breakfast Club (1985), embracing full scenery-chewing villain mode). When Burke recklessly demonstrates dangerously overpowered sonic weapons, causing an accident that leaves Irons' partner Susan Sparks (Annabeth Gish) paralyzed, Irons quits in disgust. Burke, naturally, gets discharged and starts selling his deadly tech to street gangs. Haunted by guilt and spurred into action, Irons retreats to his family's junkyard, run by the ever-cool Uncle Joe (Richard Roundtree, linking us back to the Blaxploitation coolness of Shaft (1971)), and forges himself a suit of armor, becoming the vigilante known as Steel.
Now, let's address the seven-foot-one elephant in the room. Shaquille O'Neal was at the absolute peak of his global fame in '97 – dominating the NBA, dropping rap albums, and generally being Shaqtus incarnate. Casting him as a superhero probably seemed like a slam dunk on paper. In execution? Well, Shaq’s natural charisma is undeniable, and he flashes that million-dollar smile, but his line delivery often feels… deliberate. Let's be kind and say he’s not classically trained. There's an earnestness there, but it often clashes with the film's sometimes serious, sometimes goofy tone. You can tell he's trying, bless his heart, but it adds to the film’s overall B-movie charm. A Retro Fun Fact for you: The production reportedly struggled to make the armored suit look convincing and allow Shaq any real mobility, a common headache with practical superhero costumes back then.

The action in Steel is pure late-90s mid-budget fare. Forget the seamless CGI physics of today; this is all about practical effects, clunky suits, and tangible hardware. Steel’s armor, crafted in a junkyard forge montage that feels appropriately blue-collar, is a hulking mass of metal. His main weapon? A massive sledgehammer equipped with kinetic energy storage and, amusingly, the ability to fire rivets. Remember how those practical effects looked back then? The sparks flying off metal, the solid thunk of the hammer – it had a weight that CGI sometimes lacks, even if it looked a bit cumbersome.
Director Kenneth Johnson, a veteran of beloved sci-fi/action TV series like The Incredible Hulk (1977-82) and V (1983), brings a certain workmanlike efficiency to the proceedings. You can almost feel his TV roots; some sequences have the staging and pacing of a decent network show pilot rather than a blockbuster movie. This isn't necessarily a bad thing for us nostalgia hunters – it contributes to that cozy, familiar VHS feel. The motorcycle Steel rides is also peak 90s cool, tricked out and looking like something straight out of a comic panel, even if the chase scenes feel somewhat grounded compared to today's physics-defying antics. The film leans into its practicalities, sometimes to comical effect, but you have to admire the effort before digital doubles took over stunt work entirely.


Annabeth Gish (Mystic Pizza (1988), The X-Files (1993-2018)) does her best as "Sparks," the wheelchair-bound tech expert who helps Steel from their junkyard HQ. She provides the brains and exposition, operating chunky computers that probably had less processing power than your watch does now. Judd Nelson as Burke is… a choice. He dials the villainy up to eleven, complete with sneering lines and a plot involving high-tech weapons flooding the streets. It’s pure comic book evil, lacking much nuance but providing a clear antagonist for our hero.
Watching Steel today is like opening a time capsule. The tech, the slightly hopeful but grim urban setting, the earnest attempt to translate a comic book character without the established formula we see now – it's all unmistakably 1997. It lacks the grit of Batman (1989) or the colourful pop of later Marvel entries, landing somewhere in a strange middle ground. A Retro Fun Fact: The film famously tanked at the box office, earning a dismal $1.7 million against its $16 million budget. Critics mauled it, and Shaq even earned a Razzie nomination for Worst Actor. Ouch. It quickly faded from memory, becoming one of those "Oh yeah, they made that?" movies often discovered lurking on video store shelves.
Steel is undeniably flawed. The acting is uneven, the script is basic, and the execution often feels more like a TV movie than a theatrical release. But… there’s a certain charm here for the VHS faithful. It’s a guileless, ambitious attempt from a pre-MCU world, powered by Shaq's sheer star power and featuring some enjoyably clunky practical action. It doesn't take itself too seriously, even when it probably should.

Why this score? Objectively, it's a weak film with significant shortcomings in script, performance, and overall impact. However, for fans of 90s oddities, Shaq completists, or those who appreciate the earnest, pre-digital feel of B-tier superhero efforts, it offers undeniable nostalgic entertainment value and unintentional humor. It fails as a serious superhero film but succeeds as a fascinating time capsule.
Final Thought: Steel might be dented, scratched, and a bit rusty, but like finding a weird gem in the video store bargain bin, sometimes the clankiest armor hides the most interesting memories of a bygone cinematic era. It wasn't the Man of Steel, but maybe, just maybe, it was the Man of... Well-Meaning Attempt.