In the late 1980s, an actor’s paycheck was directly proportionate to the height of his roundhouse kick, and Jean-Claude Van Damme stomped skull like he was trying to break the bank. But the era of the action star is long gone, and despite Van Damme’s prolific career over the last two decades, the Muscles from Brussels hasn’t made a memorable flick since his too-cool-to-be-cool turn as Guile in the movie version of popular 90s video game “Street Fighter.”

“JCVD” is like nothing anyone could have expected from Van Damme. A brilliantly entertaining confessional, the movie is the self-deprecating, self-referential drama-comedy that Van Damme now seems to have been destined for. Filmmaker Mabrouk el Mechri writes and directs a sad, funny, perfect glimpse at the life of an aging action hero while still maintaining focus on the events of an engaging action film. “JCVD” is a pleasant surprise, honest and endearing without glossing over grittiness.

Van Damme is known for being far from an impressive actor, but the opportunity to present a sincere portrayal of himself—rather than a convincing portrayal of an English-speaking caricature—has allowed him to finally flourish on-screen. Critics might argue that it is not difficult to play oneself, but in a movie that essentially lays his career before him, Van Damme lets his character emerge gradually, evolving continually until the final, defining monologue. Mechanically lifted above the set, he turns to face the camera and deliver the speech that has been slowly brewing throughout the movie. Van Damme leaves beneath him the heist situation in which he has become embroiled, reflecting on his troubled life up to that point: the custody battle for his daughter (in real life, his son), his long history of drug use and money troubles, the pains of getting old. Weathered and physically beaten, shot in the eye by one of the robbers, he gives his history; in doing so, he claims his identity, never asking the audience for their sympathy, only for their understanding.

Naturally, Van Damme also does what he does best: kicks some ass. The plot of the movie takes a backseat to its biographical exploration, but it still helps to advance Van Damme’s character and dissect the fame that is slowly slipping away from him. The film opens with Van Damme in mid-scene on the set of a low budget action film. He gets into it with the foreign director over an issue with the poor quality of the set, to which the director replies, “He still thinks we’re making Citizen Kane.”

As the movie unfolds we begin to see Van Damme’s difficulty getting roles (“They gave it to Steven Seagal....He promised to cut off his ponytail.”) and the repercussions for his personal life, where legal fees from his custody case are piling up. All of this leads him to a post office in his native Belgium which gets held up while he’s inside. Van Damme manages to convince police, the media, and thousands of fans that he is the one burglarizing the post office. As the heist goes on, two of the robbers argue over their situation, using Van Damme primarily as a bargaining chip, while a third makes more immediate use of the aging acting hero: having Van Damme kick cigarettes out of his fellow hostages’ mouths for his own enjoyment.

Taking place for a short time in the United States, and then moving to Belgium for the remainder, the entire movie is shot in a striking amber tone. Aside from more clearly revealing the lines on Van Damme’s face, the hue also serves to make indoor scenes—like those filmed inside the post office—much darker, while adding color and brightness to the world outside. Complemented by a great soundtrack—especially the Curtis Mayfield-penned Baby Huey track “Hard Times”—the film has a good deal of quality aside from its sustained biographical portraiture.

“JCVD” is about as far from “Bloodsport” as a film can get, but in the best way possible. If this doesn’t revitalize Van Damme’s career completely, it will have punctuated his career with an exclamation point more triumphant than the sum of everything else he has done.