*SPOILERS
AHEAD*
When I initially began exploring the martial arts film stars of the western
hemisphere, one of the first ones I investigated was Don “The Dragon” Wilson.
Though I knew that few performers approached fight flicks with the level of
credibility that Wilson did, I admit that I wasn’t very appreciative of
what he brought to the table and let my dislike of his fight scenes cloud many
earlier reviews. Nevertheless, there was something about the guy that kept me
buying his movies even though I’d end up trashing them online. Now, with
approximately eight years of reviewing behind me, I realize that I’ve been
harsh. I believe I’ve learned a significant lesson about the importance
of personality in B-movies and the significance of Wilson’s film
career. This won’t be a retrospective of everything he’s done, but in this
review, I’ll highlight some of the features that have contributed to his
status as one of the more unique stars of the low-budget realm.
TRIVIA: Wilson made his name in the
martial arts world as an international kickboxer. Over a 20-year career, Wilson
won 11 world championships – as well as three championships in state, national,
and continental divisions – and amassed a record of 72 wins, five losses, and
two draws.
Ring of Fire is Don Wilson’s third
starring vehicle and his first movie that premiered on video. It was
produced by the PM Entertainment Group, a studio specializing in action films which contributed greatly to the golden era of home video. PM had a knack for
producing screenplays that paid more attention to drama than typical
direct-to-video schlock, and Ring of Fire
is a good example of this. It’s essentially a Los Angeles-set retelling of Romeo and Juliet with a martial arts
backdrop, and explores themes of racism, interracial relationships, and machismo.
The film begins in a small arena where two gangs
cheer on their representatives in a no-holds-barred match. The foundation of the story is the conflict between these groups – the Asian
Gang and the Surfer Gang – and it’s worth pointing out what a unique conflict
it is. The Asians and the Surfers take no part in typical gang-related crime,
and seemingly exist only to do battle with each other. They’re not inspired by
money or territory, but solely by racial tension. The Surfers are led
by the increasingly unstable Brad (Dale Jacoby), whose hatred of his Chinese
neighbors seems to stem from his father’s death in Vietnam. The opposing gang
is headed by Terry Woo (Steven Vincent Leigh), the son of an immigrant
restauranteur, who is so tired of prejudice that he’s decided to fight fire
with fire. There’s no shortage of animosity between the two groups, but both seem
to agree that the best means of expressing their hatred is not through
drive-byes but hand-to-hand combat.
Martial arts fans will quickly realize a stylistic difference between the gangs
during the opening matches: Terry’s gang clearly comes from a kung fu
background while the Surfers seem to favor kickboxing and karate. As a matter
of fact, the very first fight features Terry wearing a traditional sash
while his opponent (Stan Longinidis) wears trunks emblazoned with the words
“KICK BOXING.” The theme of inter-discipline competition goes back to Hong Kong
wuxia pictures, and criticism of the “fancy” Chinese styles by “hard” stylists
had been an issue in U.S. martial arts communities for decades. In the movie,
the difference underscores the conflict between the two factions.
Trivia: Wilson – a student of pai lum tao – began competing in kickboxing to counter the widespread prejudice that kung fu practitioners couldn’t actually fight.
The only person at the arena who’s opposed to what’s going on is Julie (Maria
Ford), Brad’s sister and fiancée of his friend Chuck (Vince Murdocco). Julie is
repulsed by fighting and refuses to watch, fearing that somebody will get
hurt. Her fears are vindicated when one of Terry’s friends (Ron Yuan) is hospitalized after a vicious beating. His attending physician is Terry’s cousin,
Jonny Woo (Don Wilson) – a legendary fighter who nevertheless rebuffs Terry’s
request to fight on his behalf. While Jonny seems to consider
Terry’s activities so inevitable as to never outright discourage them, he is so
against the idea of involving himself that it seems to create an inexplicable
bond between Julie and him when they meet shortly thereafter. Julie visits the
restaurant of Terry’s mother (Jane Chung) and mistakes Jonny for a waiter. He
takes it in stride and there’s an instant attraction between them, which seems to symbolize their mutual rejection of racial
prejudice.
The two engage in a genuinely romantic courtship after Jonny – dressed as the
Phantom of the Opera – crashes a masquerade party to dance with Julie. She goes
out with him despite being engaged, but it’s important to note that Chuck is
making himself increasingly irredeemable by succumbing to Brad’s influence.
Chuck is never seen displaying quite the level of racism of his pal, but his
time is continually monopolized by Brad and he seems completely oblivious
why this repels his fiancée. Julie makes a few efforts to maintain their relationship,
but Chuck’s preoccupation seems to justify her doubts about marriage.
Tensions between the gangs rise when Kwong (Eric Lee) – Terry’s resident
goofball and possible kung fu instructor – is badly beaten outside of the ring and
Terry retaliates at the expense of one of the culprits (Gary Daniels).
This leads to the film’s biggest combat scene – a massive gang brawl – but when the battle is dispersed by the police, the factions
agree to settle their differences via a one-on-one match between Brad and
Terry. While the two of them train in their own unique ways – Brad focusing on
technique and precision while Terry builds strength and endurance –
the relationship between Maria and Jonny grows to the point that Maria breaks
up with Chuck. Feeling scorned and sensing Jonny’s involvement,
Chuck tells Julie about the upcoming fight and indicates that Brad intends to
seriously injure Terry. Later, Jonny approaches Terry and asks him not to fight,
revealing that he’s in love with his opponent’s sister. Terry is moved but
argues that he can’t back out of the fight without losing face. Unwittingly
setting the stage for disaster, Jonny suggests that Terry demand that they fight “Thai style,” with their knuckles covered in glue and broken
glass. He’s certain that Brad will back down rather than compete like this,
and Terry agrees. However, both have underestimated Brad’s casual attitude towards
violence, and when the gangs meet at night for the showdown, Brad readily
accepts the challenge.
TRIVIA: There is much dispute whether fighting
with broken glass was ever a genuine practice among Thai boxers. In the book Comprehensive Asian Fighting Arts, Donn
F. Draeger and Robert W. Smith hypothesize that this particular practice occurred only in wartime, and many other sources claim that it was
an uncommon event at best.
What follows is a montage wherein shots of the fighters gearing up are
interspersed with shots of Jonny and Julie getting intimate. It’s an example of one of the most persistent and
controversial B-movie tropes: the mingling of sensuality with violence. Nevertheless,
it’s interesting that despite the film’s license to exploit, both the sexy shots
of this scene and the nature of the romance are remarkably
wholesome by low-budget standards. Wilson’s character is utterly decent and the
buildup to sex is very well-paced. Rather than actually depicting the act,
all this scene shows is the characters slowly disrobing each other. Against
all expectations, the film depicts the undressing of one’s partner as a pinnacle
of sensuality. Much of this modesty may be thanks to Wilson, who – in addition to
cultivating wholesome onscreen personas – seems concerned about how women are
treated in his films. In the future, Wilson would personally minimize violence
against female characters in at least one screenplay, and in doing so seems to challenge
the general perception of women in B-movies. To this end, Maria Ford – regularly
typecast in sexual roles – can direct her efforts to her dramatic performance
rather than titillation.
[UPDATE 8/4/18: For his review in Videohound’s Video Premiers, Mike Mayo alludes to “one of the hottest love scenes you’ll ever see on video” taking place in this movie. Unless Mayo is especially titillated by chasteness, I’ve reason to think that what I’ve described above may reflect an edited version of the original film. Whatever the case, my review is based on the Reel Entertainment Digital (RED) release, and it’s possible that a different version has been released by another distributor.]
Their tranquility is shattered when Julie realizes Jonny’s plan
and assures him that her brother is indeed capable of killing. They rush to the
combat zone – literally a ring of fire, created with gasoline –
only to find Terry near death from a massive neck wound. Brad is so driven that
he attacks Jonny as he tries to attend to his cousin, but he and the others flee at the arrival of the police. Later, Brad has become so so unhinged that he leads
the gang to crash Terry’s funeral, seeking to collect Julie after she defied
him by attending. Julie seems to feel some responsibility for Terry’s death,
and her guilt is augmented by indirectly causing this disruption. The cold stares she receives from the other funeral attendees certainly don’t help, and she
attempts to stem future harm by breaking up with Jonny and leaving with Brad’s
gang.
A heroic intervention by Julie’s grandmother (Shirley Spiegler Jacobs) brings
the two back together, after Jonny publicly makes a bid for Julie’s heart in
the middle of her aerobics class. The Surfer Gang inexplicably turns up to challenge
Jonny, and Brad strikes Julie after she pleads with him to stay out of their
relationship. This finally pushes Jonny beyond his limit, and he meets Brad in
the arena. Julie is present as well, perhaps agreeing to watch because she
cares more for Jonny than she did for Chuck, and witnesses her boyfriend being
true to his legend. Jonny handily overwhelms Brad and even rallies after Chuck
interferes. Frustrated, Brad grabs a
katana he had been training with earlier and charges Jonny. Oddly, the only person who
rushes to Jonny’s defense is Julie, but while Jonny is able to avoid Brad’s
attack, Julie is slashed across the torso. The brawl immediately comes to an
end and animosities turn to concern over the injured Julie. As Jonny carries her
from the ring, the melancholy soundtrack makes us fear for Julie’s life, but
within the final seconds before the credits, she raises her head to look into
Jonny’s eyes. We’re to believe that Julie survives, and the film’s sequel – Ring of Fire II: Blood and Steel –
assures us that this is indeed the case.
The ending is abrupt and leaves core issues of the film
unresolved, but in its most drastic departure from the Romeo and Juliet template, I appreciate how it concludes the feature
with a tinge of hope. If Julie can live, perhaps the gangs can resolve their
conflict.
Racism sparked the gangs’ conflict, but machismo is what drives it. I can’t
come up with a better explanation why two gangs who hate each other would cooperate to the extent of securing a boxing ring to
exercise their grievances. Fight culture and the history of feuds between
professional fighters seem to influence their thinking, and the concept of
honor definitely plays a part, but these things don’t fully explain the absurdity
of the setups and thus convince me that the characters are bound by masculine ideals. While machismo provides the benefit of the
gang members eschewing guns (after all, anybody can pull a trigger),
it ultimately makes mutual problem-solving
impossible. It may even be viewed as an infectious condition: in addition to Chuck’s
increasing fascination with Brad’s violent world, Jonny spends the entire movie vowing not to fight – even when his cousin is killed – but when Brad strikes
Julie, he forgoes all rationality by agreeing to a fight in
front of spectators. The demands of masculinity turn fiancées into
villains and healers into participants of bloody rituals.
Speaking of blood, the film’s fight content is an interesting study. The unique
collection of performers promises spectacular results, but the fights are a
mixed set. An ugly trend of editing fight scenes at the time was to cut shots
right before a performer landed a strike and switching to a different shot for
the impact. Ring of Fire does this a lot, though curiously only for its
ring-based matches: the street fights feature longer shots with follow-through.
Don Wilson only has a single genuine fight – the finale – and I’m sorry to say
that it seems to cue an increase in such icky editing. It’s a style that’s present
throughout Wilson’s movies, and it really played against my opinion of the guy
when all I was interested in was the quality of fight scenes. While I’m still
not a big fan, I’ve since
learned that this style may be the result of noble intentions. Wilson claims to
go out of his way not to make contact with his onscreen opponents, and this is
probably reflected in the editing tricks. It doesn’t do much for the
presentation, but after hearing stories of how Steven Seagal and Jean-Claude Van
Damme have hurt costars while shooting fights, it’s easier to give Don credit
for being a human being.
TRIVIA: In the late 1980s, after Wilson
publicly disputed Jean-Claude Van Damme’s claim of having been a world kickboxing
champion, producer Roger Corman hyped a proposed fight between the two and
offered Van Damme $100,000 if he could defeat Wilson. Van Damme turned the
fight down, reasoning that he made much more money through acting (see Black Belt
Magazine, Nov. 1989).
Nevertheless, I mainly have a good impression of Ring of Fire. The filmmakers get absolutely everything they can out
of their production without giving the impression of scraping bottom. It’s a
flamboyant movie filled with nice cinematography of Venice Beach and Los
Angels’ Chinatown, not to mention an eyeful of early 90s fashion. The dramatic performances
are really out there and bombastic, though solidly anchored by Don Wilson’s
likable presence and Maria Ford’s pure talent. Despite its representation of
real-life problems and a smattering of racist language, it’s not a hardline
picture and I largely consider it harmless for adult viewers who know what
they’re getting into. General martial arts fans ought to consider it, and Don
Wilson fans will definitely want to own this one.
Ring
of Fire (1991)
Directed by Richard W. Munchkin (Dance or Die), Rick Jacobson (Bitch Slap)
Written by Jake Jacobs, Richard W.
Munchkin, Steve Tymon (Death Match)
Starring Don Wilson, Maria Ford (Angel of Destruction), Steven Vincent Leigh (Deadly Bet), Dale Jacoby (No Retreat, No Surrender)
Cool costars: Vince Murdocco (Kickboxer 2: The Road Back), Eric Lee (Weapons of Death), Ron Yuan (White Tiger), Gary Daniels (Bloodmoon). The gang brawl features too
many cool people to count, but some of my favorites include Jon Agro, Art
Camacho, Harold Hazeldine, and Rod Kei. Stan Longinidis is
Terry Woo’s first opponent and an 8-time world kickboxing champion. Also, IMDb.com credits Michael Jai White (Black Dynamite) as being
in this movie, but I’ve never seen him.
Title refers to: The literal fighting space created for the Terry-Brad showdown.
Content warning: Racist dialogue, violence against women, group violence
Copyright PM Entertainment Group
Inc. / Reel Entertainment Digital
B-Movie Dragons 