Video Store Afternoon: The Forgotten Thrillers – *Nowhere to Run* (1989) & *Under Cover* (1987)

There’s something about picking up a couple of late-'80s VHS thrillers from the dusty middle shelf of an old video store that feels like stepping into a parallel universe—one where you recognize the actors but can’t quite place their names, and the plot synopsis on the back of the box makes promises that the movie only sort of keeps. That’s the magic of a forgotten rental—cinema’s lost soldiers.  

### *Nowhere to Run* (1989)  

Not to be confused with the 1993 Van Damme flick, this *Nowhere to Run* stars David Carradine in his grizzled, effortlessly cool phase, with Jason Priestley lurking in an early role before *90210* made him a household name. The premise is classic VHS thriller fodder—wrongful accusations, a desperate escape, and the kind of justice that only happens in movies where logic is secondary to mood. Carradine moves through the film with a mix of weary authority and "I-just-cashed-this-paycheck" detachment. The action is gritty but unremarkable, the pacing uneven, but the atmosphere is pure late-night cable TV gold. It has that rough-edged, lower-budget charm, the kind that makes you feel like you stumbled onto something that never quite made it to the mainstream. A movie that feels like a stray dog—worn, a little mean, but oddly endearing.  

### *Under Cover* (1987)  

Here’s a relic of the *21 Jump Street*-inspired wave of "teens infiltrating crime" movies, where cool leather jackets, synth-heavy scores, and improbable undercover operations reign supreme. David Neidorf (who always seemed one breakout role away from stardom) plays a fresh-faced cop sent into the neon underbelly of high school to bust a drug ring. It’s all very “Just Say No” with a side of *Miami Vice* aesthetics—shadowy hallways, whispered threats, and a police force that somehow thinks sending a baby-faced officer into high school is a solid plan.  

The movie swings between earnestness and absurdity, with moments that land hard (some genuinely grim turns in the third act) and others that feel like they were scripted by someone who had never actually been to a high school. Jennifer Jason Leigh pops up to remind you that, even in a throwaway cop thriller, she can elevate a scene with just a look. It’s a weird, occasionally gripping, often clunky time capsule of ‘80s excess and moral panic, but in the best way possible.  

### Final Verdict:  

Neither of these films is *great*, but both are time machines to a specific kind of movie-watching experience—the one where you roll the dice on an unknown rental, let the static hum of the VHS tape pull you in, and enjoy the ride for what it is. If you ever find these on an old tape, grab some microwave popcorn, dim the lights, and embrace the grainy, low-budget thrill.