CAPTAIN AMERICA: Before the MCU – Steve Rogers on VHS

Captain America has been ruling the theaters lately. Once upon a time, he tried to dominate the home video market, and while it wasn’t exactly a triumphant march of glory, that’s precisely what we’re diving into today. The likes of Val Kilmer, Dolph Lundgren, and Arnold Schwarzenegger were considered for the role, but it’s safe to say none of them regret passing on the project. The crew recalls a scent of failure lingering over the production, and the screenwriter reportedly needed a drink right after the premiere. While Stan Lee—comic book mogul and the film’s producer—praised the results, the movie quickly vanished from theaters and landed in video rental stores. The 1990 Captain America is a cinematic relic—dry and aged—but with a bit of goodwill, it can still be enjoyed.

The comic book Captain America was created during World War II for propaganda purposes. The cover of the first issue famously depicted the hero delivering a haymaker to Hitler, encouraging Americans to take part in the war effort. Clad head-to-toe in an outfit inspired by the U.S. flag, complete with tiny wings on his mask and a shield in patriotic colors, he embodied the American spirit—supercharged with American technology and wrapped in gloriously American textiles.

Before the Marvel movie boom, in the U.S., Captain America was a heavyweight icon. The film adaptation was undertaken by the now-infamous Cannon Group, and below, we’ll explore how they completely botched it.

World War II. Steve Rogers volunteers for an experiment and becomes a super soldier. The Nazis have their own version of him. Their battle ends with Rogers being frozen for decades.

The film was directed by Albert Pyun, known for the cult VHS hit Cyborg and later Nemesis. These two films arguably represent the peak of his career, and even they have their flaws. Pyun was no John Carpenter—working with minimal budgets, often in rundown locations, he churned out small-scale, anemic action flicks. With a $10 million budget, Captain America was his idea of a “blockbuster.”

This is not a good movie. It’s closer to the so bad it’s good category, though it defies easy classification. Strangely enough, it’s quite watchable—if approached with the right mindset.

The film plays everything straight. Captain America is an impeccable, unwavering warrior, a walking embodiment of patriotic virtue. He’s as American as Coca-Cola and Born in the USA—preferably in a military drum cover. His one-dimensional heroism could have been ripe for satire (imagine Sam Raimi or the Coen Brothers at the helm!), but Pyun sticks to the source material and makes him a generic do-gooder.

Matt Salinger’s performance as Captain America is painfully weak. His hero has no human traits, nor does he embrace comic book exaggeration. He simply wanders through the film, bored, confused, and lifeless.

Salinger’s Rogers is portrayed as a man devoted to his family and sweetheart, who promises to wait for him. Yet, the moment he leaves, his expression suggests he wouldn’t mind never seeing them again. The actor doesn’t build a character—he merely presents a very American face, straight out of a breakfast cereal commercial.

Yes, Captain America is inherently a bit wooden—it’s part of his comic book DNA. But here, he doesn’t come across as fearless, just… constipated. If someone like Bruce Campbell had played him instead, and if the film had featured some bold plot twists, Captain America might have earned cult status.

Ronny Cox, known for playing villains in Total Recall and RoboCop, portrays the President of the United States. However, his performance is toned down, resulting in a caricatured, “folksy” leader who thumbs up as Captain America defends American ideals.

On the other hand, Red Skull is surprisingly compelling—a sinister and sophisticated villain. His grand plan? Transplant the President’s face onto his own and take over the U.S. Unfortunately, the film waters down his character—starting as a grotesque burnt tomato, he later morphs into a weird mix of The Joker and Al Capone. The earlier Nazi version of him, dressed in a leather trench coat, was far more intimidating.

The World War II sequences are the movie’s highlight. The retro aesthetic, Nazi villains, and their over-the-top secret experiments give the film a pulpy, Hellboy-esque charm. The absurd scene where Captain America, a rocket, and the White House all share the frame is downright hilarious—a perfect blend of kitsch and camp. If only Pyun had leaned into this tone…

The film’s modern-day segments, however, are bland and forgettable. There are fights, chases, and shootouts, but they’re staged in the most uninspired, straight-to-VHS fashion. The music is painfully bad, trying and failing to evoke heroism, while the cinematography is utterly lifeless.

For a super soldier, Captain America sure spends a lot of time running away. He also lacks his iconic motorcycle or any cool vehicle—instead, he mostly rides around in tiny Fiat cars… or a bicycle. Worse still, he only wears his costume at the very beginning and end of the film. The rest of the time, he’s a low-energy, teetotaling James Bond, without the charm, gadgets, or women.

Even the potential of a “man out of time” storyline is wasted. Rogers barely reacts to modern life, aside from mildly noticing that movies now come in smaller boxes and are watched at home.

The studio interfered with Pyun’s film, cutting and reshaping it, resulting in a choppy, uneven mess. At one point, they even considered using John Lennon’s Imagine in the soundtrack—an idea that would have only made the film weirder.

Despite all its flaws, Captain America moves at a brisk pace, making it easy to consume. Its script is rigid, copying the comic book formula without innovation. The production values are mediocre, but there’s an undeniable old-school charm to its analog aesthetic.

It’s a lovable disaster, a cinematic oddity best enjoyed with your brain switched off. Fans of cheesy 90s films will appreciate it as a time capsule from a forgotten era.

As for me, Captain America left me craving a better version of the character. This outdated, wooden fossil of a superhero has a certain campy appeal, but now it’s time to see how his modern blockbuster incarnations stack up.