50 GREATEST FICTIONAL BADASSES

#17 – JUDGE JOSEPH DREDD of 2000 AD comic books.

The only way to illustrate how bad the 1995 Sylvester Stallone rendition of Judge Dredd was, is by citing that the 2012 Karl Urban version is its direct opposite in every way. 

Urban’s version is a poem of violence that I haven’t seen since Walter Hill stopped making movies (wait — did he just make one?). It’s a proud descendant to films like The Warriors, Assault on Precinct 13 and Escape From New York: brutal, ridiculous and worth the popcorn. In short, they did Joe and his Lawgiver proud.

The amazing thing about Judge Dredd (the character and his world), is that this is a man and institute we should be railing against. This is about as close to fascism disguised as a heroic fantasy as we can get. Now, I don’t like fascism but a lot of me loves Dredd. And I think it comes down to control. When I was a kid, I had none. I was picked on, introverted, brooding (this is a shock, I know). But Judge Dredd had control. He had rules, he had purpose.  He lived in a world of black or white, no greys allowed. He was an immovable object. Always sure of himself and his decisions. My God, his self-assurance was so high, he didn’t even doubt for a second wearing a giant fucking eagle hood ornament on his shoulder pad.

“Mega City One. 800 million people living in the ruin of the old world and the mega structures of the new one. Only one thing fighting for order in the chaos: judges.”