Reviewnalysis: Tiger Claws (1991)

SPOILERS
AHEAD

At
the end of the 80s, a Lebanese-Canadian martial arts competitor sold
his jewelry business and entered the world of karate flicks. His name
is Jalal Merhi, and through money and persistence, he became a staple
name of the U.S. video scene. Nicknamed “Beirut’s Steven Seagal”
(despite his accent making him comparable to Jean-Claude Van Damme),
what set him apart from virtually everyone else on the U.S. martial
arts scene was his desire to showcase Chinese martial arts over their
more common Japanese and Korean counterparts. He tried this first
with Fearless Tiger (1991), a
tournament flick that didn’t see an
American release until three
years after completion, but had greater luck with the more unique
Tiger Claws. Merhi’s
recipe for this endeavor?
– lots of kung
fu, established stars, and a capable
director. The result is a
thoroughly watchable adventure that grew on me over time. It’s an
examination of fanaticism in martial arts, and arguably the best film
Merhi would ever star in.

Photo source

The
movie opens in New York City with a woman (Cynthia Rothrock) hounded
on the street by a suspicious man (Nick Dibley). He corners her with
evil intent, but she fights back and utterly decimates him in a
brawl, knocking him out before he’s arrested. It turns out she’s
Detective Linda Masterson, supercop, and the guy who attacked her was
a suspect in a crime spree. She’s disgusted that her wolf-whistling
partner (Fern Figueiredo) wasn’t anywhere to be found when the
fight happened, but more so that she’s wasting her time “dressing
up like a whore and working on these two-bit cases.” Shortly
thereafter, we meet our other hero: Det. Tarek Richard (Jalal Merhi),
who’s carrying out an undercover drug deal that, somehow, is also
the purview of rival detectives Roberts (Robert Nolan) and Vince
(Kedar Brown). It’s unclear who’s actually out of line, but
Tarek’s suspended when his counterparts initiate a fight/shootout
and the dealer is blown up in his car.

The
case they’re both headed for – Linda by intent and Tarek by
accident – is that of the Death Dealer, a serial killer targeting
martial artists. The victims’ claw-like head wounds lead Linda to
believe that the killer’s also a martial artist and that he can be
unconvered by identifying his fighting style. This impresses her
superior, Sergeant Reeves (John Webster), who assigns her to the case
over a sexist cohort but also demands she work with the
still-suspended Tarek. Linda’s not pleased but has no choice,
especially when Tarek promptly identifies the style as “fu jow . .
. some people call it tiger claw.”

Let’s
pause to examine the story’s unusual take on martial arts
awareness. Usually in these features, a martial artist is teamed up
with someone who has no such experience and thinks “chop socky”
is nonsense. That approach is subverted, here: Linda’s already a
master martial artist but still needs the insight of a “specialist”
like Tarek when it comes to exotic styles. Again, this is part of
Jalal Merhi’s unique formula: not only was he featuring kung fu in
his movies when few others were, but doing so at a time when these
styles weren’t even widely practiced outside of films. It’s less
of a deal now that Hong Kong flicks are widely distributed and it’s
easy to find modern kung fu fight scenes, but at the time, Merhi
capitalized on a market opening and used the opportunity to build up
the Chinese arts grandly. The movie’s stance is that, while you can
be a well-studied martial artist, there’s always more to learn by
looking to the past. If you don’t, you’ll be at a disadvantage.
This sentiment isn’t explored and thus feels a little like martial
arts propaganda (“Your kung fu is strong, but mine is better!”),
but I think Merhi was merely trying to set a precedent at this point.

Photo source | Jalal Merhi, Kedar Brown, Robert Nolan

Tarek
and Linda search Chinatown for the school where the killer trains.
Specifically, they’re searching for a secret studio that only
trains serious fighters – like Tarek says, “This is not a sport
for any bozo with 50 bucks.” They eventually receive a tip from a
drunken boxing student (Rick Sue) who they rescue from a gang
beating. It’s a cool fight, but doesn’t go very far in
distinguishing our heroes’ differing approaches to martial arts:
Tarek has some flowing movements, but he’s still as hard-edged as
his partner. Ironically, it’s Linda who wields a Chinese rope dart.
Anyway, they’re directed to a local tournament to find Sifu Chow
(Mo Chow) – the only fu jow teacher in the area. Tarek not only
finds him, but also an old friend and tournament competitor, John
Atkinson (playing himself). A huge and mysterious man in the crowd
(Bolo Yeung) looks on ominously as John wins the championship.
Shortly thereafter, he shows up in John’s home and attacks him –
killing him with a tiger strike to the face. Afterwards, we see the
guy before a tiger-themed altar decorated with trophies from the
other beaten martial artists. This is our killer.

Tarek
and Linda follow Chow to an abandoned movie theater which Tarek
immediately identifies as his school. He wants to go in right away,
but Linda demands he stay. When a night of waiting results in nothing
but the aforementioned death of his friend, Tarek impatiently sneaks
into the studio on his own. He’s promptly discovered, but –
immediately crafting his cover – earns a chance at tutelage by
revealing that Chow and he studied under the same master. (Stroke of
luck, huh?) Before leaving, Tarek notices his friend’s killer
painting a mural on the wall, but of course doesn’t know who Chong
is.

Photo source | Cynthia Rothrock, John Webster

TRIVIA:
A subsequent scene features Tarek and Linda arguing whether to go to
an Italian or Chinese restaurant to eat. This mirrors a real-life
event wherein Merhi, Rothrock, Yeung, and some production members
were deciding where to eat after a day of filming. Everyone voted for
Italian, with the exception of Yeung. Merhi, who idolized Yeung,
immediately changed his vote and attempted to sway the group in favor
of Bolo’s choice. He was overruled and the group went to the
Italian locale, where Yeung refused to order anything.

Tarek
returns to the secret studio and earns his spot
by holding his own in against the other students. This is the first
fully-fledged kung fu fight scene, and the difference to previous
brawls is noticeable. The pacing is more restrained and the tiger
claw choreography reminds me of classic Hong Kong fights. You
get the impression that the filmmakers are genuinely trying to make
the fu jow
aspects
stand out, and this continues as Tarek engages
in a necessity for
any
good kung fu
flick – a training scene. He twirls weapons, strikes form, and
toughens his hands by submerging them in a wok of boiling water
filled with chains. Sifu Chow doesn’t do much on-the-ground
teaching, preferring
to beat a drum while his students go
at it, but he does step in
as a rivalry between Tarek and fellow
student James (Ho
Chow) threatens to get out of hand.

In
an unexpected turn, another student (Gary Wong) invites Tarek to a
go-go club, and they take Chong with them. The movie twists
expectations by showing Chong as a normal guy who drinks and laughs
with his comrades, but eventually, the scene’s mainly there so
Tarek can find out how good of a fighter the muralist is when they
have to thwart a mafia attack on the joint. Additionally, Chong keeps
Tarek from killing one of the guys – highlighting the theme of
martial excess that I’ll get into later. In the aftermath, Tarek
still isn’t certain which of the practitioners is the killer, but
Linda thinks it’s the hotheaded James. She confronts him at a
billiard bar, and despite beating up him and half the establishment
in the process, it turns out that he has an alibi. This faux pas
results in Linda and Tarek being removed from the case and being
replaced by the insufferable Roberts and Vince. In the meantime,
Chong kills Sifu Chow and some of the students.

Photo source | Bolo Yeung

This
scene is an enigmatic as it is essential. The final exchange between
Chong and Chow features Chinese dialogue with no subtitles, so while
their exchange may offers clues to Chong’s motives, I can’t be
certain. We
don’t find out otherwise
why Chong is a serial killer. The head-spinning
sequel throws a ton of new, outrageous information into the
continuity, but where only
this movie is concerned, it’s
ambiguous. The only theory
that’d
tie into
an existing theme is that Chong, having taken his training to the
extreme, has literally been driven crazy
by kung fu. Tarek’s spent the picture making sure we know how
demanding and encompassing fu jow is, having mentioned that his wife
left him when last
he trained – implying that
he, like Chong, has the potential to become a menace if
not kept in check. Tarek’s
also the only character to voice a
theory on Chong’s motives, saying that perhaps he’s
trying to “drum up lost respect for his style.” This may in fact
be a part of the reason,
given how the movie venerates
kung fu. Chong may see his
victims and
their martial arts as temporary and weak and is thus trying to
exemplify
the “true” martial art. This isn’t entirely without real-world
parallel: fierce inter-style
competition goes back centuries, and Chinese styles have often been
ridiculed in modern times
by “hard style” practitioners for being impractical and fancy.
Altogether, this information
comprises pieces to Chong’s puzzle, but the picture still isn’t
clear. Perhaps that’s why the movie reveals the killer relatively
early: it’s not bad writing, but an intended opportunity for
viewers to ponder Chong’s motives.

Tarek
and Linda refuse to drop the case, and they somehow
determine that Chong is their
prime suspect. Their suspicions are confirmed when they enter the
studio, finding the others
dead and Chong in attack
mode. He flees after a quick
duel with Linda, who spends the rest of the night searching for him
with Tarek. They find him at the pier, but not before the bumbling
Roberts and Vince arrive and handcuff
Tarek, suspecting him of the murders. Linda and Chong fight again –
possibly the best one-on-one match of the film – but the finale
pits the still-handcuffed Tarek against Chong in a warehouse. In a
bit of egoism, Jalal Merhi’s character is able to best Chong while
spending the majority of the fight with his hands bound. The
film ends with with Chong apprehended, Tarek and Linda commended, and
the former reinstated while the two share an awkwardly-earned
kiss on Tarek’s boat.

Photo source | David Stevenson

TRIVIA:
The movie draws on real-life characteristics for many of its
characters.
For example… Linda is from Scranton, PA and
Chong is from Canton, China – just like their actors. Jalal Merhi
wasn’t divorced, but like Tarek, he was single at the time of
production. John Atkinson was indeed a successful karate fighter and
multi-time grand champion. Mo Chow
is a martial arts
instructor who operate
s his own studio.
Bill Pickels – Chong’s first victim – is a former cable TV
personality in Canada. Three actors share similar or identical names
with their characters: Mo Chow, John Atkinson, and Bill Pickels.

I
wasn’t a Jalal Merhi fan when I first saw this, and only held onto
the tape for Cynthia Rothrock. I can still see why the guy didn’t
click with me right away. Merhi lacks the charisma that makes even a
questionable actor like Rothrock fun to watch, and despite his
emphasis on kung fu being genuinely unique at the time, it doesn’t
make him stand out to the average viewer. Despite his efforts, Merhi
isn’t comparable to Steven Seagal introducing aikido in the late
80s or Tony Jaa rewriting action choreography with muay thai in the
2000s. Nevertheless, the more of this subgenre you consume, the more
Jalal’s effort does in fact stand out. The Chinese martial arts
help give this movie a unique flavor that you won’t find in other
kick flicks of the same budget. The crisp forms, traditional uniforms
and decent training montages eventually give the movie an air of
importance that I kind of miss in other features. This approach won’t
click with viewers who’d rather limit martial arts exclusively to
fight scenes, but it might be unique enough for those who’ve grown
tired of repetitious kickboxing.

Merhi’s
use of eye-catching names to star alongside him is a sound decision,
but again, you can’t help but chuckle at the scene that features
him defeating Bolo Yeung as Cynthia
Rothrock fishes a buffoonish
detective out of the bay.
Nevertheless, treating his own
character as exemplary
doesn’t mean the others are treated as jokes. This is one of
Yeung’s most interesting non-Hong
Kong roles, and even though
Rothrock hangs back many
times, both she
and Bolo are given ample
opportunity to steal the show in
fight scenes. To tell the
truth, Merhi is
elevated by their presence because
they bring out a lot in him. I’ve seen the guy do flashier moves,
but he’s never looked as tight and collected as he does here. To
date, Merhi is the only Arab martial arts star who’s had a solo
career in North America, and he really puts his best foot forward in
making a first impression here.

Exploring
the martial arts theme yields contradictory results. We’re to
presume that fu jow – and “old” martial arts in general – are
superior to modern forms, because when they come into contact, the
former tends to triumph. Nevertheless, Linda seems to be the
exception: she isn’t versed in fu jow but still defeats a hardcore
practitioner in direct combat. We’re also led to believe that
respect and mastery of the martial arts is limited to the experience
of immigrants and minority characters, but the majority of Chong’s
victims fall under the same labels. There’s also a theme of martial
arts bringing people together – i.e. Linda and Tarek bonding over
their practice of the fighting arts – but this ignores that Tarek’s
wife left him because of his training and that Chong’s obsession
with the martial arts may be the cause of his murderous behavior. I
wish the film were more consistent in what it’s saying.

Nevertheless,
it’s still enjoyable and that’s got much to do with director
Kelly Makin. Merhi had a knack for selecting inexperienced directors
who’d later go on to critical acclaim, and Makin displays his
talent via style in what would otherwise have been a humdrum-looking
picture. Though I’m not sure whether anyone would think this is an
A-grade production, Makin delivers a consistently clean look and
takes time to highlight the soundtrack, indulge in interesting camera
angles, and even film an occasional arty establishing shot. Though
not the best in this regard, he can shoot a fight scene surprisingly
well.

Tiger
Claws
is a
fun watch for genre fans and definitely worth
hooking up the old VCR for. The
cast is a supergroup of genuine martial talent and
the filmmakers
know how
to make them shine. There are plenty of things I’d change, but
overall, this is one experiment that pays off. People interested in
coming into these types of movies should definitely consider it, and
established viewers
who’ve yet to see this particular one shouldn’t hesitate much
longer. Check it out!

Photo source

Tiger
Claws

(1991)

Directed
by

Kelly Makin (Mickey
Blue Eyes
)

Written
by
J.
Stephen Maunder (writer for almost all of Jalal Merhi’s movies)

Starring
Jalal Merhi, Cynthia Rothrock (China
O’Brien
),
Bolo Yeung (Bloodsport),
John Webster

Cool
costars:

Gary Wong, Michael Bernardo (WMAC
Masters
),
Rick
Sue (Expect
No Mercy
),
David Stevenson (Death
House
),
Bill Pickels (Sworn
to Justice
),
Mo
Chow (Talons
of the Eagle
)
and Ho Chow
(Kung
Fu: The Legend Continues
)
are
all legitimate martial artists playing the part. Wing chun legend
Dunn Wah (AKA Sunny Tang) plays a master
but doesn’t have
any fight scenes. IMDb credits gang member William Cheung as the
William
Cheung – kung
fu
master and contemporary
of Bruce Lee
– but I don’t think they’re the same person. Similarly,
John
Atkinson is identified as an English TV actor who died in ‘07,
whereas the real performer currently operates a martial arts studio
in Arizona. Robert
Nolan
(Sixty
Minutes to Midnight
)
is
a fairly
acclaimed dramatic
actor
while his onscreen partner
Kedar Brown has
been building a career in
voice acting.

Content
warning:
Sexist
dialogue, attempted
sexual assault, group
violence, WTC imagery

Copyright
Tiger Claws Productions, Ltd. / MCA Universal Home Video (now
Universal Pictures Home Entertainment)

Reviewnalysis: China O’Brien II (1990)

*SPOILERS
AHEAD*

Sequels
aren’t as common in martial arts cinema as other genres (at least not
for U.S. fare), and ones within the direct-to-video realm are
similarly rare. While China
O’Brien II
was
shot simultaneously with its predecessor and therefore a
guaranteed
release,
the original’s success assured that a sequel would indeed be in
demand. Sadly, this is an
instance
where embarrassing stereotypes about sequels indeed
apply.
While
the original China
O’Brien

was a simple but endearing adventure that established
Cynthia Rothrock in America’s martial arts movie scene, China
O’Brien II

rings hollwer.
The circumstances behind
its creation
ensure that its production values and action content are as strong as
its predecessor’s, but an
uneven story and an unambitious
screenplay go a long way in making this the inferior flick.

The
film opens at night with a low-key soundtrack and
a
convoy of cars making its
way through a forested area. Things pick up soon, as the
convoy
divulges
a slew of police officers who’re
hunting
the story’s villain. Escaped convict C.Z. Baskin (Harlow Marks) –
ex-Special Forces operative and drug smuggler – shoots several
officers before turning up at a hideout with his sizeable
gang
of Vietnam veterans.
He lays out his goals in
a straightforward way:
he wants
to kill the judge, prosector, and detective responsible for sending
him to prison, along with a former teammate who betrayed and stole $5
million from him. Barely five minutes into the movie and we already
have enough information to determine that the hero-villain dynamics
have flipped: whereas
the first film featured our heroes attempting to topple a villain
who’d
entrenched himself in the system, this one casts the heroes as the
establishment and the villains as outsiders. We’ll
see soon
enough that
such a reversal actually renders our protagonists more vulnerable
than before.

Baskin
succeeds in having
his personnel eliminate
their
first three targets in short order,
treating
us to
a convoluted scene
where the
judge is murdered while participating in a magic act. The final
victim, Frank Atkins (Frank Magner), is living
under
the Witness Protection Program in the same town where Lori “China”
O’Brien (Rothrock) is receiving a commendation for ridding the place
of organized crime. Also present
are her returning cohorts Matt Conroy (Richard Norton) and Dakota
(Keith Cooke), and we see that their collective
problems
have become significantly less drastic
in
recent times:
while Dakota beats up a couple of men harassing a woman (one of
them’s future Mortal
Kombat

star Chris Casamassa), China and Matt drive off to arrest a bumbling
mountain man called Chester (J.R. Glover) who made a mess of a local
bar. The
trio seems to have everything under control.

This
impression continues even as the plot begins to move along and
several of Baskin’s men arrive
to kidnap Frank and his wife Annie (Tricia Quai) during
the July 4th
celebration.
Despite
an ominous soundtrack, our
heroes
thoroughly kick the crud out of these guys. The would-be kidnappers
flee, and China gets the cagey Frank to tell her about the
situation…though
he leaves out the bit about the stolen money.
An unproductive call from
his
FBI keeper
gets
Frank into an uproar, but China shuts him down and forbids him from
leaving town. Frank
doesn’t like this. Unlike
its predecessor, this
film has almost nothing to say on gender roles or feminism, but
there’s a glorious moment where the impotent
Frank whines
“I bet you like beatin’ up on men, don’t you?!” It’s a
not-so-subtle reminder that China is a subverter
of norms and
that men of questionable character can’t come to terms with
this.

Dakota
is dating Frank’s stepdaughter Jill (Tiffany Soter), which is a
little uncomfortable when you remember that Dakota is old enough to
be in college but
Jill
appears to go to school with students in
their
mid-teens. He
picks her up from the
campus
on
his bike and
brings her home, where Baskin and his men are lying in wait. Dakota
puts up a fight, but he’s kidnapped along with Jill and Annie.
Ironically,
Baskin’s
attempt to thus
press
Frank to surrender himself and the money almost goes wrong: Frank is
in the process of skipping town when China happens upon him and finds
out what’s going on.
(Frank’s
shame at being shown up by a woman is complete when he threatens her
with a gun and she takes him down from
the other side of a door.)
She
calls in Matt and her deputy Russell (Michael Anthony), and they
hatch a plan to retrieve the hostages with Frank’s (forced?)
cooperation.
The next day, it’s put into effect: Frank meets with Baskin at a
rock-crushing plant while
China & Co. Sneak up
, and following a massive fight scene that parallels the first film’s
sawmill brawl, all the good guys escape. Baskin, who gets quickly
taken out by China early in the fight, vows revenge.

This
fight scene, in
which Dakota doesn’t actively participate,
is a demonstration of how he’s
become estranged from
the other lead protagonists. While
neither
his screen time nor his contribution to the action content has been
reduced,
he shares very
few
scenes with China or Matt and has no one-on-one
time
with
them at all.
What’s more, he’s become almost facetious to the story.
While
the original movie featured his quest for revenge as a major plot
point
and gave him moments wherein
he
at least helped
China out of a jam, here he’s little more than a flashy side
character.
The importance of his kidnapping is diminished by China already
being prepared
to put herself on the line for Jill and Annie, and probably the most
significant thing he does throughout
the picture is
rescue Jill from molestation
by one of Baskin’s men (Douglas Caputo). I’ve heard that Keith
Cooke was very discerning
about
only accepting
roles that highlighted
his onscreen presence; if this is true, then
Dakota
being
indepdent of China and Matt probably appealed to Cooke,
but the result is that the film could’ve largely been made without
his character. The things he does and the things that happen to him
don’t affect the plot much, and that’s disappointing.

Baskin
effectively isolates
the town by cutting phone lines, scrambling radio airwaves, and
setting up roadblocks.
The next day, his crew rolls in to flush out China and her allies,
and the rest of the movie consists mainly of China, Matt, and Dakota
taking out opponents throughout
town.
It’s a cool collection of fight scenes, including ones with a trio
of specialty fighters (Billy Blanks, a whip-wielding Indiana Jones
wannabe, and Toshihiro Obata wearing a pair of Freddy Krueger claws),
but the
whole affair is one-sided with our
heroes
rarely losing the upper hand.
Things are a little more perilous for the characters who aren’t
martial artists: Russell is shot to death trying to get help, China’s
dispatcher Lucille (Cindy Clark) is killed when the police station is
shot up, ol’ Chester is killed just shortly after being sprung from
jail,
and even Frank is gunned down by Baskin as his family and he try
to escape with the money. Baskin grabs the suitcase of
dough,
ignoring the women, and is subsequently killed by Annie after
she grabs Frank’s rifle.
It’s surprising,
a little disappointing, but also apt that the antagonist is taken
down by a character who even the audience is meant
to consider beneath notice. C.Z.
Baskin is a more threatening and able villain than Edwin
Sommers was, but in the end, they’re both eliminated by a former
victim of their greed.

TRIVIA:
Filming had already
wrapped
when director Robert Clouse was told that the runtime had to be
increased. Some additional action scenes were shot, including the one
featuring Billy Blanks, who was cast at short notice.

The
film ends on a downer, with China and Matt leaving Frank’s funeral
and mourning the loss of Lucille and Russell. Dakota’s there, but
he doesn’t leave with his friends.
Looking
back at the whole picture, I get the impression that the filmmakers
were intending for this to be a grittier
and more perilous movie than the original – you get hints at a
darker tone throughout via the soundtrack – but they
failed
to achieve the effect by reserving
all of the more
depressing stuff
for
the final
15
minutes. Sure, the
movie collectively
lacks the original’s upbeat tone, but it’d
be
comparable to shooting The
Empire Strikes Back

without the heroes facing
any setbacks prior to Luke Skywalker losing
his hand.
It just feels uneven.

China
O’Brien II

is a typically
inferior sequel in many ways, but its production circumstances make
the situation a little weirder. The films were shot at the same time
with much of the same crew and supporting cast, so their look and
design are
identical. That’s what makes it so disorienting that China
O’Brien

should be such an engaging romp while its follow-up is a distant
exhibition. I don’t know nearly enough about the production to say
more, but it goes to show just how delicate of a process it is to
create
a cult classic. It’s difficult to capture lightning twice, even
when the bottles are standing right next to each
other.

Nevertheless,
as
technically
the more mature film of the two, the sequel manages to make at least
one
narrative point about
change and adaptation. The most obvious example
of this
is China’s relationship
with
firearms, which was laid down in the original film and even
reinforced,
here. China never uses a gun, even
opting
to use a hunting bow when in need of a long-range weapon, but she
reluctantly
approves of
her allies using them. Russell uses a machine gun during the brawl at
the plant and there’s a meaningful shot of China entrusting a gun
to Frank, and
even Matt takes control of a rifle at
one point.
(There’s
also
a
recycled shot of Dakota riding his motorcycle with an M-16 strapped
to his back.)
The good guys kill people with these weapons – a signifier
for
lack
of control and a major no-no in the past, but now an apparent
necessity. There’s much to be said about taking a realistic look at
self-defense and firearms, but in the context of the film, this
underscores the effectiveness of the villains: they’re apparently
so dangerous that they drive our heroes to desperation and put a dent
in China’s ideals. In the aftermath, Sheriff O’Brien probably
reflects
on her worldview and how she intends
to protect
her town. It’s impossible to imagine her deputizing schoolchildren
anymore.

The
relationship Matt and China share with Dakota also
comes under the header of change.
The former two are
now
a
couple, but Dakota is noticeably estranged. They
still share
friendly gestures and
show concern for each other,
but there are hints that the trio may be in the process of breaking
up. Dakota’s status as a deputy is strictly voluntary, and after
seeing him spend more time with Jill than his cohorts and not joining
them after the funeral, I’m left with the impression that their
dynamic is coming apart. Dakota doesn’t hint at his plans and I
don’t want to make unfounded predictions, but as China admits that
she’ll miss her fallen friends, perhaps the
unspoken message is that she’ll also
miss
Dakota, now that he’s beyond
her inner circle.

One aspect that I
wish had been taken greater advantage of is the rest of the town’s
involvement in defending itself. The movie starts off with the place
feeling as organic as before, but as the film progresses, we see less
and less of the citizens. By the time the big finale occurs, the
streets are empty. The film’s trailer promises us that “This
time, [China] will need to have the whole town cooking,” but the
most we see of this is an out-of-the-blue scene where a couple of
Baskin’s thugs are thwarted by two chefs armed with cleavers.
Perhaps that bit was inserted to pad out the runtime, but seriously –
where have all of the extras gone? I can see China advising the
townspeople to stay in their homes off-screen, but the impression
this makes is that, despite their successful rallying of the
community in the past, China and her friends are eventually on their
own when it comes to facing danger.

Despite
its drawbacks, I still recommend China
O’Brien II

– not to just anybody, but probably to general martial arts fans
and definitely to Cynthia Rothrock devotees. The fight scenes are
top-notch, and there are enough entertaining moments to make it worth
your while. The
movie has plenty of problems, but it avoids the most common sin of
sequels by not merely rehashing the last flick. This
one’s yet to be released digitally or on DVD, and while it may not
be worth buying a VCR for, it’s definitely worth digging an old
model out of the basement.

China
O’Brien II

(1990)
Directed
by

Robert Clouse
Written
by

Robert Clouse, Craig Clyde (The
Wild Stallion
),
James Hennessy (Wind
Dancer
).
Sandra Weintraub receives a “based on a story by” credit, but
it’s unclear whether this just refers
to
her work on the previous film.
Starring
Cynthia Rothrock, Richard Norton, Keith Cooke, and Frank Magner –
all of
who
appeared in the original China
O’Brien
.
Cool
costars:

Chris Casamassa, Billy Blanks (The
King of the Kickboxers
),
Toshihiro Obata (Rage
and Honor
).
Donre Sampson plays one of the more
noticeable
henchmen, and while not particularly distinguished, he did appear in
the super cool Revenge
of the Ninja

and therefore merits a mention.
Title
refers to:

Cynthia Rothrock’s character.
Content
warning:

Violence against women, group violence, kidnapping
Copyright
Pan-Pacific
Productions, Inc. / Imperial
Entertainment Corp.

Reviewnalysis: Out of Reach (2004)

*SPOILERS AHEAD*

Steven Seagal will probably never escape the label of a political filmmaker and may always be known best for the
time he took on corporate polluters in On
Deadly Ground
. His movies have never been that politically brazen ever again,
but he’s frequently touched on socio-political matters since then. One of his
more overlooked outings of this sort – indeed, his last overt “movie with a
message” as of this writing – is 2004’s Out
of Reach
, wherein the Buddhist Bonecrusher takes on a child trafficking circuit
in Poland. Though Seagal’s film addressed a genuine epidemic long before it
became part of mainstream awareness, its direct-to-video status assured that it would be generally overlooked. The fact that it’s not held in high regard even among people who have seen it is thanks to the movie’s production quirks, highlighted by a huge amount of
Seagal’s dialogue being dubbed by a different actor. Interesting as it can be,
this one’s definitely not for everyone.

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The movie opens with a juxtaposition of our two main characters: ex-government
agent William Lansing (Seagal) and his teenage pen pal, Irena Morawska. Irena
is an orphan living at a Warsaw orphanage and William lives a secluded life in
North America, helping injured animals he finds in the forest. Through Irena’s
voice-over, we hear that William corresponds with her via the orphanage’s
outreach program and that they’re quite close. When William narrates a letter
he’s sent her, we learn that he encourages her self-esteem and teaches
her about codes and ciphers…but the most noteworthy and immediate thing we realize
is that the voice coming from Lansing isn’t Steven Seagal’s. It sounds nothing
like him, and as it recurs throughout the film, viewers will wonder what in the
world is going on. This wasn’t the first time Seagal’s character has been dubbed,
but it was the first time it’d been done so extensively, and would subsequently
become a much-derided feature of Seagal’s DTV work.

TRIVIA: William Lansing’s status as an
animal healer reflects Steven Seagal’s own history as an animal rights
proponent. However, this reputation was damaged in 2011, when – while breaking
up an Arizona cockfighting ring for his Lawman
reality show – a police squad he was accompanying crushed over 100 roosters
with a tank and shot a puppy to death.

As William is shown nursing an injured hawk
back to health, Irena reveals that she will soon have to leave
the orphanage. We assume via the visual metaphor that Irena is bound for freedom, but this is not so. An ominous group of men arrives at the orphanage,
led by a fellow called Faisal (Matt Schulze) who’s so obviously evil that his
first act is to threaten one of the orphans (Jan Plazalski). Faisal
appears to be ex-military – take note of how he lines up the orphans
to address them – and if it’s not clear by the predatory way in which he speaks,
we find out soon that he’s collecting the girls for sale into sex slavery. The
orphanage is feeding its female children into this circuit, and Irena is among
them. Scenes of the girls’ processing are uncomfortable and
chilling: their belongings are stolen, they’re photographed against their will,
and – seemingly to ensure that the movie toes the line for taste – there’s a
scene where one of Irena’s friends (Aleksandra Hamkalo) attempts to escape and
is apprehended by Faisal; we later learn that she’s murdered.

Luckily, William travels to Poland to search for Irena after receiving
a suspicious letter claiming that she can’t correspond with him anymore. William’s decision is facilitated by a squad of his
ex-coworkers from the government – led by Agents
Shepherd (Shawn Lawrence) and Morton (Robbie Gee) – showing up at his cabin and attempting to tie up “loose ends.” William fights his way free, heads to
Vancouver, and then seemingly up and decides to make the trip to Poland. There,
he visits Irena’s orphanage. The corrupt director (Maria Maj) is of no help, but
with the aid of the orphan who Faisal threatened (“Nikki”) and a cipher left by
Irena on the frame of her bunk, he realizes that something’s wrong. The
feeling’s confirmed when Faisal, having realized that someone’s looking for
Irena, kills the director and sends men after William. Again, William fights
his way out of the situation.

image

Ambiguity seems to be one of the principles this story has been
built on. We’ve already seen that William is wanted by a mysterious government
agency (the “C.S.A.”) for reasons never sufficiently explained, and
now Faisal inexplicably realizes that William – who he hasn’t even laid eyes on
– is such a threat to his operation that he needs to
eliminate him. Shortly thereafter, we learn through a voice-over that Irena
expects William to save her, even though the movie provides no indication that
she’d even know he’s in Poland. How do the characters make such leaps of
understanding? Knee-jerkers blame it on lazy writing. People who’ve read Seagalogy: A Study of the Ass-Kicking Films
of Steven Seagal
blame it on the process of DTV screenwriting, wherein
scripts go through multiple changes during and after production. I lean towards
the latter explanation,
but it’s impossible to guess precisely what details may have gone missing while
the movie was being made. Faisal may have gleaned the extent of William’s
abilities after learning (from Irena’s letters) that he’s good with cyphers, and the
fact that he’s in the city may have been leaked to Irena…but that’s pure guesswork.

Returning to the orphanage to find the
director’s murder investigation in full swing, William is questioned by
the leading detective, Kasia Lato (Agnieszka Wagner). Kasia is suspicious and takes William in to the police station, where he uses an unsupervised
moment to bypass the police database’s security and find out that the
missing girls were all applicants for the same suspicious student program.
William later shows up at another investigation, at the building where the children had been held. Upon realizing that a girl was murdered and discovering a
bracelet he gave Irena, he’s visibly devastated, but regains hope when he’s
shown that Irena has left a message for him on a mirror. Even though he’s lied
to the police and refuses to reveal much about his identity, Kasia is impressed by
his resourcefulness and chooses not only to not arrest him, but to include him
on the case. It pays off: through technical skill and detective work, William
is able to distinguish a connection to Faisal’s broker (Witold Wielinski) and
the dummy corporation used to traffic the girls. There’s a chilling scene
wherein William listens in on the rerouted phone calls of buyers bidding on the
girls.

While a good deal of intrigue and action goes on around
William (including a fight wherein Kasia is shot and
William inexplicably performs surgery instead of taking her to the
hospital), Irena’s ordeal is at least as interesting. Faisal has become
increasingly interested in her ever since he recognized the ciphers in her
letters, and it mounts to an obsession. He presumably keeps her around as a hostage,
but the movie actually builds the two up as rivals in their own right. Irena
keeps her cool, never panicking and leaving messages for
William whenever she can (including on a tray of caviar); her resourcefulness exalts her, whereas Faisal is
denigrated by their relationship. I don’t know whether this was the
filmmakers’ intent – to show a human trafficker eye-to-eye with one of his victims –
but as dangerous as Faisal is, he becomes rather pathetic during
the movie’s second half. There’s a scene wherein Irena and he play chess until the girl
suddenly becomes dizzy and collapses onto the board; he drugged her orange
juice. This man runs a massive trafficking operation, has umpteen subordinates
doing his bidding, and has been shown to be a skilled swordsman, but he thinks a 14-year-old child is too
much for him to handle when she’s conscious.
It’s possible that this is
simply meant to show how sadistic he is, but given that he’s about to use
Irena as bait to lure William into the open, I think he actually considers her
a base that needs covering. All things considered, it’s a pretty effective
backhand to such a despicable character.

image

As it turns out, Faisal is in cahoots with
the agents who attempted to kidnap William at the beginning of the movie (?!) and deploys
them against our hero at an embassy ball where the undercover William almost
succeeds in rescuing Irena. (By the way, the C.S.A. does not seem to be an
actual government organization. It’s possible that the script originally named
the C.I.A. – one of Seagal’s favorite onscreen punching bags – but I think the
filmmakers prudently decided against implying that the U.S. government is
involved in human trafficking.) William escapes, and along with Kasia, he soon thereafter engages
the agents and Faisal’s men in a shootout at a brothel. It’s an odd
place for the film to stage a gunfight in, given that an underlying theme of
the film is the threat of sexual assault. They shoot up the place pretty
good, which may symbolize the destruction of consent and personal responsibility.

Faisal is left alone, but before he can flee with Irena, William arrives at his palace. Faisal and he point guns at each
other, but agree to set the firearms aside and fight “man to man”
– an odd thing for them to come to terms about now, but it’s good for viewers who prefer more intimate fights. Leaving Irena behind,
they head for Faisal’s dueling space, but the crime lord preemptively grabs a rapier
from the wall. William disarms him and fights back, but Faisal escapes from his
choke hold and flees. William grabs a two-handed backsword and heads
outside, where he finds Faisal armed with a saber. As the soundtrack fades to
silence, the two begin to fence. It’s a fairly unique match, played more for
technique than thrills, but I find it enjoyable. Both Steven Seagal and Matt
Schulze are trained swordsmen and it shows, as neither is presented as superior
to the other. It comes down to a standoff, with both characters rushing each
other, and William slays Faisal with a horizontal slash.

Trivia: Faisal’s palace is actually the interior of the Warsaw University of Technology. The Palace of Culture and Science (Pałac Kultury i Nauki) stands in as the embassy.

With the trafficking empire destroyed, William
and Irena leave the bloodstained abode. We don’t know what’s become of the
other girls, but we find out in the epilogue that William has taken both Irena
and Nikki back to North America. Irena is in contact with Kasia by mail, and though
she and her apparent stepbrother seem happy, it’s mildly uncomfortable to hear that
“[William] spends most of his time by himself, wandering the forest, looking
for injured animals. He seems to like it that way” – does that mean no one’s
supervising the children?

image

Steven Seagal’s DTV career is often characterized
by its shortcomings: overly complicated storylines, numerous stand-ins and
doubles, poor action scenes, and especially the dubbed dialogue. Though most of those features were apparent in movies before this one, Out of Reach is the first film
where they all come together at once and test the resolve of even longtime
fans. There’s not as much doubling as in Seagal’s previous film, Belly of the Beast, but what’s there is
generally for shots that you’d think don’t actually require doubling. The
storyline’s not so convoluted that you’d forget the names of the main characters,
but I had to watch this one several times before the identities of the supporting cast sank in. I think the action is fairly decent, especially the brothel shootout and
swordfight, but when I sat through the credits and realized that the action
choreographer is none other than Hong Kong staple Tak Yuen (Fong Sai Yuk, My Father is a Hero), I got a renewed perspective of how
spectacular the fight scenes actually weren’t. And then there’s the dubbing,
which is every bit as disconcerting as if a boom mic were hanging in the frame.
Whatever plague affected this era of Seagal’s career truly set in during this
film, and would flare up again so often that many fans gave up on the man.

Nevertheless, the film does some things
right, and chief among them is directing attention to a very prominent problem
in the world. Again, the movie’s technical shortcomings have helped ensure that
it won’t be taken seriously by casual viewers, but as was the case
with On Deadly Ground’s stance on the environment, Out of Reach was
ahead of its time in pointing to the proliferation of human trafficking in Europe. Liam Neeson’s Taken would bring
the matter to the mainstream’s attention with a more sober tone,
but Out of Reach does something which
its successors regularly fail to do: it presents a female perspective on the
issue. Human trafficking and sex slavery are ills which predominantly affect
girls and women, but many films concerned with the matter treat it
as merely another catalyst for male heroes to get indignant. Out of Reach does this a little, too,
but featuring two actively-involved females in the main cast makes a world of
difference. Kasia’s role in actively combating the problem is particularly valuable, and Irena’s
prominence reminds us what’s important about the situation: the lives of
victims, not how pissed off the hero gets.

image

The role of Faisal bothers me. I appreciate
Matt Schulze’s involvement in the film, both for his physical presence and how
comparatively recognizable he is compared to Seagal’s
future adversaries, but the way the screenplay handles Faisal is a little weak.
He’s basically an over-the-top version of Schulze’s role in The Transporter, with no redeeming
features or motives beyond making money, but the feature still treats him with more
respect than he deserves. I appreciate the duel at the end, but the honor involved
in William setting his gun aside and agreeing to duel him is really misplaced,
especially considering how Seagal regularly brutalizes characters for lesser crimes. Indeed, sex slavery is approached mildly, here. I appreciate
that the filmmakers don’t titillate viewers at the expense of female characters,
but there’s not much indignation about what’s happening. The word “pedophile”
is never uttered. I expected the socially-conscious Seagal to take a few verbal
shots at the criminals – maybe even quote Beau Bridges (“You make money off
a little kid, you miserable jerk! You oughta be shot!”) – but the film treats
the premise no differently than a regular kidnapping scenario. It deserves more
gravity than that.

The film has a few prominent themes, but my favorite is the one of ambiguous personal identity. As an orphan, Irena is rootless and metaphorically
bereft of self. The traffickers try to strip her individuality by assigning her
a new name. Her friend Nikki appears to be a voluntary mute, whose absent voice may be
synonymous with suppressed identity. And then there’s William, who cycles
through an endless amount of aliases. (This trend is so pervasive that he’s
referred to as “Billy Ray” by the Region 1 DVD jacket.)  His virtual facelessness is illustrated pretty
blatantly when he comes to rescue Irena and she doesn’t know who he is. Seagal’s
characters have often been accused of interchangeability, and the film may be
commenting on that qualm by starring a character who plays fast and loose with his own identity.

Out
of Reach
is a lot of things, but it’s not boring.
It’s afflicted by a lot of problems, but with the possible exception of the
dubbing, none of them are so debilitating as to disengage the viewer. Director
Po-Chih Leong seems to be fighting DTV convention (and possibly even the
meddling of producers), and the result is a lot of interesting touches in an
otherwise predictable thriller. Occasionally excellent
cinematography, unexpected twists, and Faisal’s ridiculously cheesy dialogue
are some of the things that shine in what could otherwise have easily been a
dreary picture. Had Seagal done this movie ten years earlier, it may have
become an ironic classic. As is, I don’t quite have the heart to recommend it outright, but if you’re up for an odd adventure and think you’re fine with
the subject matter, you might have an interesting evening with it.

image

Out of Reach (2004)
Directed by Po-Chih Leong (Hong Kong 1941)
Written by Trevor Miller (Into the Sun)
Starring Steven Seagal, Ida
Nowakowska (Suicide Room), Agnieszka
Wagner (Fala Zbrodni), Matt Schulze
Cool costars: Robbie Gee (Underworld) as one of the main
supporting villains. Nick Brimble (Robin
Hood: Prince of Thieves
) has a single scene as the “real” villain who
controls Faisal. Martial artist Murat Yilmaz (The Accidental Spy) plays Faisal’s lead henchman.
Title refers to: Irena, who William
spends the movie trying to rescue. It could also be a play on words, given that
they met via an “outreach” program.
Potential triggers: Child abuse,
implied child murder, violence against women, drugging
Conspicuously missing: A title
screen. Seriously, there’s no title shot. I had to get the still from the
trailer.
Copyright UK/Polish Co-Production

Reviewnalysis: X-Treme Fighter (2004)

While X-Treme
Fighter
isn’t Don Wilson’s last vehicle, I predict it will be
the last film he does with so much fighting in it. Released during the
home video slump, it seems as though the filmmakers were trying to
reignite the martial arts action subgenre by collecting as many legitimate
practitioners as possible and building one of the world’s most fight-filled movies around them. It’s as though they were making the point that “karate films” weren’t
limited to Hong Kong derivatives and the
abortive stuff that Steven Seagal was doing. Disappointingly, the fact that
Scott Adkins and Isaac Florentine are credited with saving U.S. martial arts
movies and not Don Wilson is because
X-Treme Fighter
missed its mark. Casual viewers haven’t heard of it, and the
general consensus of the film is very poor. Nevertheless, it’s hard to call
this movie boring, and the upbeat tone and wild nature of the story make it
fun to review at the very least. Can’t say I recommend this to everyone, but I
won’t be surprised if there are a few others who find it as interesting as I
do.

image

The story opens at a Los Angeles martial
arts gala. Amidst the various demos, announcer Bob Wall reveals one of
the bigger events: a kickboxing exhibition featuring local kung fu instructor
Jack Tanaka (Wilson). It’s a not a competitive fight, but Jack still gets
clocked when he looks into the audience and realizes that someone’s missing.
His father –Dr. James Tanaka (Aki Aleong) – is there, but not his son. As we
find out, James and his boy Brad (Daneya Mayid) have been going through a rough
phase ever since their wife/mother was killed by a mugger, and they haven’t
been getting along. Illustrating this further, Brad skips class at his dad’s kung
fu school and throws a secret birthday party at their home. Jack isn’t happy when he
finds out.

TRIVIA:
Don Wilson “discovered” Daneya Mayid when the 20-year-old approached him at a
martial arts event and asked for his autograph. Wilson liked the look of Mayid
and suggested he audition for the role of his son. Wilson claims that
this is the only time anyone ever secured a film role by asking a star for
an autograph.

Though the film generally struggles with
drama, the relationship between Jack and Brad is handled pretty well. Both
seem at a loss of how to relate to each other, but it’s easy for viewers to relate to them.
In a film as fantastical as this, their relationship is the story’s realistic core. It’s also the catalyst for a decent bit of acting for Wilson: Don is
believable as a father who loves his child but is running out of ideas to curb
his behavior, and I’d go so far as to call him the best performer in the movie.

Even though his party was cut short, Brad’s
about to get at least one more present. You see, Grandpa James happens to be a genius
in virtual reality technology: earlier, we saw that he’s created a photo-realistic fighting
simulator that provides antiterrorism training to government agent Andrew Dean (Lorenzo
Lamas), and he’s adapted this technology into a fighting game for Brad. James
tries to bridge the divide between father and son by urging them to
play together, and Jack grudgingly agrees. Upon “entering” the game
via helmets, a bubbly interface called Veronica (Judy Lee) helps them select
in-game outfits, and things seem to be going well as they’re transported to the
first level and engage their opponent. However, the Karate Master (Chris
Casamassa) is a tough enemy, and Jack is distressed that
his strikes actually hurt. He quits the game and forces Brad to stop playing as well. A potentially fun and therapeutic evening is
ruined.

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James dismisses Jack’s claim as overreaction, but remembers that when Andrew engaged the
simulator, he had no such complaints. When James enters the game himself to
run diagnostics, he takes note of the “interesting weather;” this, along with
the Karate Master’s ominous gaze, is one of the first hints that something’s
up. It’s confirmed when Brad, awakening by a nightmare, reenters the game at
night and re-engages the Karate Master, who knocks him out. Not only that, but he zaps Brad with energy that rips the game’s power cord from the wall
and takes the teen’s mind captive. Brad has transitioned from one nightmare to another
– one that runs off a backup power supply. Jack is unable to snap his son out
of the game (he gets shocked when attempting to remove the helmet) and calls
James for help. The doctor determines that to save Brad, Jack must enter the game
as well, defeat all fighters, and make
it to the final level where James can transport them out of the
game. Jack accepts this plan without question, and the stage is set for a promising amount of action.

Within his first few minutes in the game, Jack must fight
three opponents: two combatants dressed in ninja garb and the Karate Master, all of them armed with traditional martial arts weapons. Wilson notes
on the DVD’s commentary track that he’s not very comfortable fighting with
weapons, but while the fights indeed look a little awkward, this also
demonstrates within the story’s context that Jack is still getting the
hang of the game’s world. In defeating the Karate Master, he finds out
that Brad isn’t on the same level anymore, and that in defeating a level’s
master, he can proceed to the next one via a portal.

In a scene that contradicts this
last piece of information, Brad awakens on a new level, only to be confronted
and knocked out again by the Monkey Man (Michael Matsuda). This is followed by
a quick snippet of him appearing in yet another area. Whether it’s
actually possible to transcend levels by losing
fights or whether this reflects the game’s level of corruption
isn’t clear. Another interesting scene follows as Jack happens upon a fight between the benevolent White Dragon (Cynthia Rothrock)
and the malicious Virus (Christine Bannon-Rodrigues). The Virus is the culprit
behind the game’s shenanigans, and surprisingly, an in-game character
is trying to stop her. The Virus flees when Jack enters the fight, and after
laying the barest foundation for a romance with the White Dragon, Jack ascends to the next level – without actually defeating the master, again.

TRIVIA:
Both Cynthia Rothrock and Christine Bannon-Rodrigues hold substantial records
in martial arts competition. Rothrock was the undisputed world champion in
weapons & forms for five years, while Bannon-Rodrigues won three world titles
in her very first tournament – repeating the feat when critics dismissed this accomplishment
as a fluke.

image

At this point, we’ve encountered almost all
the major themes of the film. There’s the danger of misapplied technology
and the nature of artificial intelligence, but the one that intrigues me most
is the theme of how people react to psychological trauma. In this regard,
there’s a direct parallel between the Tanakas and the characters of Sci-Fighter.
For the Tanakas (Jack and Brad), their mother and wife has died; for
the game characters, the integrity of their world has been compromised.
In both cases, responsibilities and relationships are thrown into disarray:
Jack doesn’t know how to relate to his increasingly delinquent son, while the
characters are fighting each other and neglecting the rules that are supposed
to govern them. Everyone is confused to varying degrees,
with the King of the Cage character (Brad Verret) mistakenly assigning blame to
the Tanakas – not unlike Jack and Brad
villainizing each other on a smaller scale. I’d love to have seen this concept
explored a little more – to see how the characters go about their world when
not interacting with players – but that’d be a different kind of movie
altogether. As is, the parallel makes the characters feel like a family – a
family which, by proxy, the Tanakas eventually end up joining.

As he progresses, Jack defeats the Double Threat duo (Simon and James Kim), the Monkey Man from before, and the Street
Fighter (Maurice Smith). He even comes across a “residual image” of Andrew Dean’s
training, and there’s a short moment of Don Wilson and Lorenzo Lamas
fighting together. Jack and Andrew apparently know each other, but
Jack is too weirded out to make anything of the situation.
He goes on to defeat the Weapons Master (Eric Lee) and the Scorpion (Rebekah
Chaney), then appears on a beach where he’s rendered unconscious from a kiss by
the disguised Virus – leading to what I can only conclude is an in-game dream
sequence wherein he returns to the White Dragon’s level to bid for her heart.
He comes to (still in the game), and must defeat the Grappler (Gokor Chivichyan).

TRIVIA:
Like many Don Wilson movies, X-Treme Fighter
includes onscreen opponents who Wilson fought during his kickboxing career. He
defeated Maurice Smith in 1983 for the WKA World Championship and defeated
Dewey Cooper in 2000 for the ISKA North American title.

Jack finally locates Brad, who’s been going
through various challenges of his own, including the Virus impersonating his
father. (Her ability to do this, coupled with the Karate Master’s strange
behavior from before, makes me think that she either impersonated or took
control of him to initiate this whole thing.) It’s a joyous reunion; the Virus’ attempt to keep the Tanakas separated has resulted in
them growing closer. Eventually, the two end up at the final level, and even
though Jack bids Brad to stay back as he approaches his opponent, the location abruptly
changes and both of them are transported to a prison setting. While Brad
defends himself against a couple of thugs, Jack takes on the King of the Cage and eventually
defeats him via sleeper hold.

image

With the final boss defeated, Brad walks through
the last portal and reawakens at home, but before Jack can go, he’s accosted by
the Virus and transported to a skyscraper setting. As she gains the upper hand
in the resulting fight, the Virus reveals that she intends to destroy both the game’s world and Jack’s. These are incredibly ambitious plans and warrant
examination. Overall, I don’t think they’re realistic. Aside from
presumably corrupted boundaries of the game, I see no signs of
destruction in Sci-Fighter, with some of the characters even fighting the Virus
when they realize what she’s trying to do. What’s more, I can’t imagine how she
could destroy the world outside of the game. This calls the nature of the Virus
into question, for it’s not actually clear whether she’s a genuine computer virus or an established character. Her headshot appears in the
game’s title imagery, making me think that at least her in-game model is an established
element of Sci-Fighter… So, is she an infected character
or simply a disenchanted rogue? Given the strong capacity for
personality among the characters, the latter seems possible, but I personally
lean towards the former, given her somewhat unique ability to traverse the
levels. As such, perhaps her power could eventually allow her to
travel between actual worlds, not unlike the Tanakas. If she were able to do
this, her destructive nature would probably make destroying the Earth a
priority…but I still don’t know how she’d manage it.

When the King of the Cage regains consciousness
and realizes that he was mistaken about the cause of his world’s problems, he buys
Jack some recovery time by attacking (and getting defeated by) the Virus. In
the real world, the game’s backup power supply fails and Jack is presumed lost,
but Brad’s desperate words of love and encouragement permeate the game and
imbue Jack with the power to defeat the Virus. He’s still trapped, but the
White Dragon appears and sacrifices herself for him; she becomes a portal,
and Jack is able to awaken in the real world. To his amazement, he awakens to
the White Dragon’s face! The character was based on James’
assistant Sally, who’d been aiding the professor in trying to free the
Tanakas.

TRIVIA:
Brad Verret, who was a major part of the King of the Cage promotion, died in
early 2016 – reportedly of lung disease. While not active in competitive
fighting, he was a professional bodybuilder who’d won first place at the 1983
Los Angeles Championships.

In the epilogue, we see that things have improved for
the Tanakas. As Jack gives a speech to his students about how life’s greatest
obstacles are often only in our minds, Brad arrives to take his place in class.
At a subsequent martial arts event, Jack and James – along with Sally, who
appears to be dating Jack – watch Brad win a forms competition. However, back in James’ lab, the Virus
inexplicably appears on a computer screen and ominously asks “Does anybody else
want to play?” Clearly, she is not just in the game, but in the main
program as well.

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When I first watched X-Treme Fighter, I wasn’t impressed. I wasn’t a fan of Don Wilson,
but I was a fan of Cynthia Rothrock and several other cast members, and
upon seeing the questionable quality of the fight scenes, I publicly proclaimed
it one of the worst martial arts films ever. Nevertheless, I never got rid
of my DVD copy, because the movie’s spunk is amusing and the premise unique
enough to warrant revisiting. Since then, the ambitiousness of the production
and the ambiguity of the storyline have made it a minor favorite of mine, but
I’m realistic about the limited appeal it may have to others.

Much of this has to do with the direction
of Art Camacho. Camacho was an integral contributor to the 90s
action scene and actually directed one of the very best low-budget thrillers I’ve ever seen (1998’s Recoil) but I’ve never much
liked his work with Don Wilson. Also, the quality of Camacho’s output seems strongly
correlated with how much money he has, so that both the production values and screenplay
of X-Treme Fighter – made during the home
video market’s low point – are weaker than any other film of his I’ve seen. Finally, Camacho doesn’t get many good dramatic performances out of his
stars, here. Every single character displays some thematic shakiness, with
Cynthia Rothrock and Aki Aleong being the worst offenders – even though Rothrock
had just come off a strong performance in Outside
the Law
and Aleong is usually the one performer in these movies who can act.

But let’s look on the bright side. At first
glance, the fight scenes stink, but closer examination presents some general
improvements over Wilson’s action standard. There are 23 full-length brawls, and while most of them could have been shot better,
the variety of fighters and fighting styles is welcome. Despite some incontestable low points (e.g. the Monkey Man’s encounters are some of the
noisiest, most do-nothing brawls ever filmed), a handful of fights
are respectable, particularly those featuring Chris Casamassa. Daneya Mayid is
an infinitely more dynamic fighter than his onscreen father, but even Wilson
raises his standard by engaging in more evenly-matched encounters than we’re
used to. His showdown with the Virus is possibly the only back-and-forth brawl the
conservative Wilson has with a female opponent.

Speaking of unconventionality, the film does
several other things that I’m a fan of. While there is some sexualization of
women and pandering to stereotypes (is it coincidence that the biggest things
in the Tanakas’ lives are martial arts and computer technology?), the film
centers around a non-nuclear Asian-American family and features a cast whose main performers are almost
exclusively women and men who aren’t Caucasian. Also, X-Treme Fighter is valuable for being a rare
family-oriented martial arts movie from the 2000s; despite its PG-13 rating,
parents who already let their kids watch Power
Rangers
shouldn’t have a problem with it. Of course, all of this may not cut it for adult viewers who just
want to watch a good fight flick, so regardless of whether you’re a Don Wilson
fan, beware of the film’s low points and know yourself before
purchasing.

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X-Treme Fighter [AKA Sci-Fighter]
(2014)
Directed by Art Camacho
Written by Thomas Callicoat (The Legend of Sasquatch)
Starring Don Wilson (Bloodfist series), Daneya Mayid (Kickboxer: Vengeance), Aki Aleong (Farewell to the King), Cynthia Rothrock
Cool costars: Christine
Bannon-Rodrigues (WMAC Masters),
Lorenzo Lamas (Renegade), Chris
Casamassa (Mortal Kombat), Brad
Verret, Michael Matsuda (Crooked),
Rebekah Chaney (Slumber Party Slaughter),
Gokor Chivichyan (Streets of Rage),
Simon and James Kim (Mortal Conquest),
Eric Lee (Talons of the Eagle),
Maurice Smith (Fist of Glory), Bob
Wall (Enter the Dragon), Dewey Cooper
(The Martial Arts Kid). Additional
combatants include Joe Perez (Half Past
Dead 2
), Eric Perrodin (Street Crimes),
and professional fighter Ray Wizard.
Title refers to: It might be an
alternate title for the game. Otherwise, it could apply to any player or
character.
Potential triggers: Mugging, violence towards women
Copyright Sci-Fighter Films, Inc.

Reviewnalysis: Martial Law II: Undercover (1991)

*SPOILERS
AHEAD*

I often read the opinion “[90s martial
arts star X] should have been bigger,” which I take to mean that the
performer the writer refers to should have had a mainstream career. While
I can usually point out why this wasn’t the case (martial arts action has
always been a niche genre and Hollywood already had Seagal and Van
Damme) and typically voice opposition to the notion (I prefer the creative
freedom that comes with the low-budget realm), the one person I make an
exception for is Jeff Wincott. Already an acclaimed actor by the time he
started doing karate films, Wincott was a better dramatic performer than his
more famous peers and at least as good of an onscreen fighter. His knack for
landing nice-looking productions allowed him to simulate what a big-budget feature
for him might look like, and Martial Law
II: Undercover
is arguably the best example of this. It’s the kind of movie that could only have been made when it
was, when the home video market was ravenous for action and indie studios still
had the means of making movies that looked as good as their mainstream
counterparts. It’s a personal favorite and I’m excited to promote it.

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The first of several stylistic differences
between the original Martial Law and
its sequel is apparent in the opening shots: whereas the original took place at night with shadowy lighting, Undercover
opens on a bright, sunny day. It’s a park scene, and two gangs have chosen the
adjoining street to carry out an arms deal. This is a police bust
waiting to happen, given that Officer Billie Blake (Cynthia Rothrock)
is selling hotdogs from a nearby wagon… but who’s the drunken vagrant stumbling
upon the van where the gang leaders (John Vidor and Nicholas Hill) are
conducting business? This is actually the returning Officer Sean Thompson, with
Jeff Wincott replacing Chad McQueen, and we get our first hint of his identity when
he grabs one of the baddies and throws him bodily from the vehicle. Other
policemen are on hand, but as Billie enters to fracas, the captain (Max Thayer) orders the rest to let the two supercops
take care of the attackers. Not only are they equal to the task, but they make
a pretty fun fight scene out of it.

Following some curious opening titles that I’ll talk about later, the story
commences with Sean being promoted and transferring to the
Northwest Division to begin a martial arts program. He’s disappointed that Billie
won’t be accompanying him, but personally, I think splitting the team is
part of a positive revamp of Sean and Billie’s relationship. You see, they
were an item in the previous film, but the romance ended up marginalizing
Billie as a character and limiting Cynthia Rothrock’s utilization. Here, they
don’t seem to be romantic anymore, and in addition to Billie having more
opportunity to shine, the lack of deference on her part makes for a more equal partnership. She’s still willing to do big favors for Sean, but the respect
between them is a lot more apparent.

At his new workplace, Sean meets Captain
Krantz (Billy Drago), his new superior, and also his old academy buddy Danny
Borelli (uncredited). Danny’s happy to have his pal around but becomes
noticeably depressed when the instantly-suspicious Detective Dobbs (Charles Taylor)
walks onto the scene. Danny’s subsequently so preoccupied that he breaks off Sean’s tour
of the premises and goes off to pursuits unknown. Unknown, that is, until we
see him tailing Dobbs in his car after hours. It turns out that the guy is off to an illicit meeting with
business prodigy / gangster Spencer Hamilton (Paul Johansson). Hamilton
presents a legitimate image to the public – earlier, a news team was filming a report detailing his accomplishments – but he turns out to have his hands in prostitution
and illegal gambling. To make things easier for himself, he buys off police
officers.

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For bodyguards, Spencer has surrounded himself with martial
artists – a fact which Danny must learn the hard way when he’s caught taking
photographs of the meeting. Held at gunpoint, Danny tries to fight his way free
but is thoroughly beaten by Spencer’s lieutenants: Tanner (Evan Lurie), Bree
(Sherrie Rose), Han (Leo Lee), and two unnamed characters; one is played by
Koichi Sakamoto, the other I have no idea. Drugged with liquor before having his
neck broken, Danny is sent down a hill in his car to make his death look like a
DUI accident.

We’ve now seen the depths to which the
villains are willing to sink. While Dobbs comes across as a greedy jerk willing
to screw over his comrades for money, Spencer is more of a study. On one hand,
it’d seem as though a prodigy like him would have no need for illegal action,
but on the other, it’s possible that his success is entirely built on crime. Whatever
the case, Spencer is a psychopath who enjoys exerting force and penetrating secure
institutions. The title sequence I mentioned before features a shadowy man in a
gi throwing kicks and punches in Sean’s dojo, and while I can’t be certain who
this silhouetted figure is, the ponytail makes me think it’s Spencer. His
mysterious presence here may symbolize that not only is he a physical match for
our heroes, but he’s already infiltrated Sean’s domain long before Sean even arrived. He’s a bad guy, for certain, but I’d go so far as to call Spencer a
Satanic archetype: he’s a manipulator, a seducer, a deceiver, someone who loves
making deals, and he commands a legion of minions from the underworld. In
short, he’s just plain evil.

TRIVIA:
The dojo in the film is actually the Jun Chong Tae Kwon Do Center of Los
Angeles, California. At least four members of the film’s cast have trained in
tae kwon do: Jeff Wincott, Cynthia Rothrock, Evan Lurie, and James Lew.

Sean arrives at the scene of the
“accident” and doesn’t accept the police verdict. Even though Danny had a
history of alcoholism and an autopsy reveals his intoxication, Danny had
mentioned that he’d been sober for months. What’s more, Sean finds a
matchbook in the vehicle from Syntax – the nightclub owned by Spencer. He
visits, but his conspicuous questions to the bartender (Pat Asanti) arouse the suspicion
of Tanner. A fight ensues, and Sean is effectively barred from pursuing the
matter: not only do the people at the club now know his face, but Captain Krantz
is irate and demands he stop. I like to think that Sean isn’t usually this
ham-fisted in his detective work, but perhaps the loss of his friend has affected his tactfulness. Whatever the case, he at least has the
wherewithal to come up with an alternative plan: have Billie investigate the
place in his stead. It proves to be a good idea, and a nice opportunity for
Cynthia Rothrock to do some genuine acting. There’s a fun scene where she applies for a job at the bar under a pseudonym, and the bartender quizzes her
on cocktails. (Billie’s recipe for the Cookie Monster: “Crème de cacao, crème
de menthe, vodka, lit on fire, run like hell.”)

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We find out that Danny had been investigating
Dobbs for his interference in a solicitation arrest. The arrestee was Tiffany Michaels
(Deborah Driggs), one of Spencer’s employees whose primary job is to intimately
uncover secrets from his associates and business partners. She and Billie
develop a friendship after Billie beats up some aggressive men who
follow them from the bar, and it ends up being one of my favorite aspects of
the movie. While Martial Law II
doesn’t pass the Bechdel test, the scenes of Billie and Tiffany building a
rapport are rare instances female characters having scenes to themselves in
this subgenre, and they lend a more nuanced tone to an otherwise male-centric
action film. Also, Tiffany is arguably the most interesting character of the
movie, personifying the full gambit of Spencer’s nefariousness. Spencer’s
molded her into a femme fatale while keeping her dependent on his financial
assistance. Their relationship seems to be the result of a long history of
seduction and deceit, indicated in a scene where Tiffany coldly remarks on
Spencer drawing a college student (Kimber Sissons) into his service; she’s probably reminded of her own beginnings with the crime lord. Deborah Driggs
is a fine actress – equal parts Maria Ford and Jillian McWhirter – and
perfectly portrays Tiffany as a world-weary individual holding out for one
final possibility of changing her life.

Tiffany’s services are in demand: Spencer
uses her connection to a drug dealer (Matthew Powers) to facilitate a drug
bust so he can steal $10 million in drug money and purchase the business of a
wealthy sports promoter (Conroy Gedeon). To carry this out, he’ll need the
cooperation of someone more highly-placed than Dobbs, and it’s a surprise to
find out that Spencer even has his claws in Chief Krantz. Spencer tips off
Krantz about the upcoming drug deal and demands that he receive the spoils, but
the police chief is reluctant. He says that he “won’t cross the line,” but such
a declaration means nothing to Spencer. See, Krantz is involved with Tiffany,
and while it’s mostly mutual and Tiffany actually hopes that the chief will be
her ticket to a better life, she’s still indebted to Spencer and agrees to drug
Krantz during their next date. When Spencer and Tanner show up and take the unconscious
captain’s gun, she frets that they plan to kill him…but then Spencer turns
the weapon on her. Krantz comes to, and finds his lover dead and Tanner taking
incriminating photos. Spencer now officially has the chief under his thumb.

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Meanwhile, Sean’s been putting up with multiple
attempts on his life because Spencer considers him a threat. First, Dobbs pays
a biker gang to attack him, and when that fails, Spencer
sends Han, Koichi Sakamoto’s character, and a new enforcer (James Lew) to his
dojo. Sean beats the odds here, too, and Spencer decides to have both Sean and
the ineffectual Dobbs eliminated in the aftermath of the drug bust. The plan is
partially successful: following the raid, the partnered Sean and Dobbs are
accosted by a group of thugs led by Han, but while Dobbs is executed, Sean counterattacks
and succeeds in capturing Han.

Sean has Han lead him to a factory occupied
by Spencer’s forces, where his boss is awaiting the money. The climax is quick
to follow, but there’s a segment preceding it that intrigues me. Sean
holds a shotgun on Han, demanding that Spencer and his forces give themselves
up, but Spencer refuses and even encourages him to kill his henchman. Han gives Spencer
a look, then drops to one knee and pulls a knife from his sock; Sean promptly
blows his head off. This is such an odd, futile move on Han’s part that it
deserves examination. At first, we’re wont to think that Han is making a
last-ditch effort to attack Sean, or maybe even sacrificing himself so the
others can attack, but considering that his action comes right
after Spencer declares his life worthless to him, it’s possible that this is an
act of indignant defiance. Han likely considers himself a part of Spencer’s inner circle, higher-placed than the bought policemen, but it’s just hit him
that the devotion he feels towards his boss is entirely one-sided. In other
words, he realizes that he’s no different than Tiffany, who did everything
asked of her and was still killed. It would have been interesting to see who
Han turned his knife on – Sean or Spencer.

A quick shootout follows (with a clump of
Han’s hair still clinging to the barrel of Sean’s shotgun), but it turns into a
series of hand-to-hand showdowns. Billie, who had recently been promoted to
Spencer’s personal team, has a disappointing fight with Bree, but the
four brawls that follow are all very nice. Our heroes are victorious: Tanner
ends up hanging from his neck by a chain while Spencer’s remaining lieutenants
are thrown from a catwalk. While Spencer puts up a much better offense
than I expected from a slimy rich guy, he ends up impaled on a makeshift
sword.

Sean had found out after the bust that his
captain was complicit in Spencer’s schemes, and he and Billie immediately go to
Krantz’s residence. Krantz sees them approaching and puts a gun to his head.
Aggrieved by his involvement in organized crime, the selling out of his
officers, and the murder of his girlfriend, he shoots himself. The sound of his
gunshot ushers in the end credits.

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It’s an abrupt and unfulfilling ending, but
that’s the worst thing I have to say about this movie. Martial Law II is one of my go-to examples of a low-budget action
film that looks exactly as good as its high-end counterparts. Strong
direction coupled with an intimate style of choreography makes this virtually as
powerful of a vehicle as Seagal’s and Van Damme’s offerings of the same year. (I suspect that competition from independent studios played a part in those guys
moving up to bigger-budgeted, effects-driven blockbusters.) The excellent
casting and great distribution of resources, along with the clear storytelling,
qualifies this as study material for any director looking to make a
contemporary martial arts vehicle.

A good deal of credit goes to Jeff Wincott.
While he benefits immensely from a cool collection of costars, the great
choreography of Jeff Pruitt, and having no less of a talent than Cynthia Rothrock
as his onscreen partner, the guy does not
look like this is his first time headlining a kick flick. Wincott easily slips
into the action hero persona and takes to the fight scenes like a duck to
water. He’s the complete package, and arguably better-rounded than most of his
low-budget contemporaries, so it’s lamentable that his action career began
petering out well before the turn of the century.

From a social standpoint, the film could definitely
be stronger. Every non-white performer plays a villain of some stripe, and few of their roles fall
outside of stereotypes. Also, despite the presence of strong female characters,
women in general don’t fare well here, whether it’s Bree falling to her death
or Tiffany being murdered in cold blood. Nevertheless, we do have a significant
bright spot in the form of Sean and Billie’s relationship, because I can’t
understate how rare it is in these movies to see a friendly coexistence between
a man and woman without any romance involved. Billie and Sean are virtually
equal characters, with comparable prominence in the storyline and almost the
same number of fights. More importantly, they treat each other as equals, and
show fondness and concern for each other without needing to justify it with sex
or smooches. The fact that Billie isn’t stripped of her femininity to accomplish
this makes it all the more significant, and in this regard, the movie stands
out.

One minor nitpick is that Billy Drago isn’t
utilized to his full potential. I don’t mind that he didn’t get in on the
actual action, but when the most that he can brings to the film is an abortive
love scene, something’s awry. Nothing against Paul Johansson, but I’d have
loved to see this same movie with Drago in his role. But this, along with the
other shortcomings, isn’t reason enough to avoid the picture. Martial Law II excels on so many levels
and is such a gem of its subgenre that martial arts fans do themselves a
disservice in not plugging in their old VCRs for a viewing. Check it out!

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Martial Law II: Undercover (1991)
Directed by Kurt Anderson (Martial Outlaw)
Written by Pierre David (story),
Jiles Fitzgerald (screenplay), Richard Brandes (screenplay)
Starring Jeff Wincott (Mission of Justice), Cynthia Rothrock,
Paul Johansson (Highlander: The Raven),
Deborah Driggs (Total Exposure)
Cool costars: Evan Lurie (Hologram Man), Sherrie Rose (Me & Will), Billy Drago (Death Ring), Leo Lee (The Perfect Weapon), Koichi Sakamoto (Bounty Tracker), James Lew (Balance of Power), Oscar Dillon (Deadly Bet), Nicholas Hill (Death Match), Max Thayer (The Retrievers). Though only credited as
a “featured part,” world kickboxing icon Peter Cunningham appears as part of a
gang that attacks Billie.
Title refers to: Sean and Billie,
respectively. Sean’s nickname is “Martial Law,” but it’s Billie who infiltrates Spencer’s inner circle.
Potential triggers: Domestic abuse,
group violence, violence against women
Copyright
M.L. II Partnership

Reviewnalysis: Bloodsport II: The Next Kumite (1996)

*SPOILERS
AHEAD*

When it comes to cult movies, the original Bloodsport
has its own shelf in the annals of nostalgia. Though I’m not the biggest fan of
that one, I recognize its significance and respect it for helping to reignite interest
in martial arts cinema in the post-Bruce Lee world. Given such status, it’s
inevitable that unfavorable comparisons would dog its lesser-known sequel,
especially since Jean-Claude Van Damme is nowhere to be seen here. Personally, I give
the movie more credit than just being a follow-up. Bloodsport II: The Next Kumite isn’t a perfect film, but it is an absolute opus of onscreen karate. This is as good as it gets for martial arts tournament
flicks, and I’d match it against any picture of the same description.

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The generic titles and the opening scene of kids in a dojo don’t
exactly imbue the movie with promise, but luckily,
here comes James Hong – one of my favorite actors – to play the role of Master
Sun. He calms the children by beginning a lengthy story about Alex Cardo
(Daniel Bernhardt), a professional thief whose tale begins with crashing the party of a wealthy businessman in Thailand (Pat Morita). Cardo
describes himself as a speaker of multiple languages, a specialist in Chinese
antiquities, and as being “quite good with [his] hands” – in other hands, he’s
as cocky as they come. Luckily, his arrogance doesn’t last long:
he’s come to steal an antique sword, and even though he
succeeds and beats up three guards in the process, his nefarious partner John (Philip Tan) double-crosses him and Alex is arrested. In
the words of Master Sun, “His greed had led him to a very dark place.”

The impression that Daniel Bernhardt makes on viewers during these opening
scenes is the impression of the film thus far, and I can empathize with
people who don’t take to it right away. The fact that Bernhardt uncannily looks,
sounds, and kicks like Van Damme almost makes me wonder why the filmmakers
didn’t just have him carry on the Frank Dux character from the original…but then again, even a good imitation is merely an imitation. Daniel
Bernhardt can’t help the way he looks, but perhaps the film would have been
better served with a more unique persona. The knockoff factor is high.

TRIVIA: The Bernhardt-Van Damme
connection encompasses more than just physical similarities. The two of them had
previously appeared together in a commercial for Versace Jeans, and
producer Mark DiSalle takes credit for having “discovered” both of them.

Alex is sent to prison. This seems to bring out his better side, as his
first act is to defend a fellow newbie being assaulted by the inmates. He subsequently makes the acquaintance of two other main characters: the sadistic prison guard Demon (Hans Ong) and the imprisoned Sun, who advises
Alex against fighting the guards. Sun is a lifer, imprisoned for the murder of
a rapist, and the bleakness of his situation is illustrated by that
his primary occupation seems to be sweeping a prison yard that’s
entirely made of sand. However, he has more interesting talents than that: Alex’s second
meeting with the bullying thugs doesn’t go well, and Sun demonstrates some
impressive tai chi to decimate the attackers. This sparks a mentor-pupil
relationship between the two, with Sun agreeing to teach Alex his secret – the
Iron Hand system.

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Also called Iron Palm, Iron Hand is not actually a martial arts style but a system
of conditioning techniques meant to increase striking power and bolster the
durability of the fingers and palms. Sun’s variation includes
fancy kicks and extinguishing candles with a punch, and this makes for a reasonably
fun training montage. I set no store by Sun’s concept
of chi and I think his armchair diagnosis of Alex’s psychological state is
silly, but he does make mention of something we’ve been waiting for since the beginning: the Kumite tournament, which he claims to have competed in. Alex is intrigued,
but Sun informs him that he will first have to earn an invitation – foreshadowing the trial Alex will have to go through after their chat. An attempt is made on Alex’s life by
the same thugs as before, and when he successfully defends himself, the
complicit Demon has Alex placed in a sweatbox.

Alex survives his presumably lengthy punishment by maintaining a spiritual connection
with Sun, with both of them striking hard surfaces to simulate their synchronized heartbeat. Mythically, this is Alex’s belly of the whale, and he emerges
prepared to undergo a heroic metamorphosis. He begins to excel in his training
– now able to extinguish candles with both fists and feet – and demonstrates a
newfound ability to get along with fellow inmates by playing checkers with them. You get the impression that he’s learned all he can here, so it’s
fortunate when he’s mysteriously freed. On his way out,
Alex makes two promises to Sun: that he will free him as well, and that he will
“make the Kumite a spiritual event again” – in response to the
sadistic Demon having been invited to compete.

When Alex finds out that his
liberator is none other than the businessman whose sword he stole – David
Leung – he makes one more promise: to retrieve the sword from his villainous
ex-partner and return it to Leung. The sword, you see, is the grand prize of
the Kumite, and Leung needs Alex’s help to get it back.

TRIVIA: All inmates in the prison wear
conspicuous pink outfits. This costume design wasn’t planned, but was decided
on when director Alan Mehrez got a good deal on the fabric.

Alex arrives at the Kumite, and I think these initial scenes divide viewers
by how they deconstruct the tournament. For starters, the involvement of David Leung throws back the aura of secrecy from the first film. (How secret can a tournament be if a public businessman is supplying the prize?) Also, Alex is able to show up there
even though he hasn’t received an invitation, whereas the original film required the hero to pass through checkpoints. And perhaps more surprising than anything, we see that the
returning Ray “I ain’t your pal, dickface” Jackson (Donald Gibb) is now
involved in the tournie’s organization. It’s not explained how he went from being
a competitor to an associate, and given that he’s still the loudmouthed brawler he was in the past, you can’t help but wonder who the heck thought he was
supervisory material.

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Much to Alex’s benefit, Ray has an odd way of doing his job. See, when
the head judge (Hee Il Cho) refuses Alex entry because he doesn’t have an invitation, Ray sets up an opportunity for Alex to win the invite of a fighter he’d just expelled (Jeff Wolfe). (It’s sort of a jerk move, given that Ray’s sole reason for tossing him out is that he
didn’t think he was good enough.) He does this for unexplained reasons, and after Alex wins a one-sided fight and the right to compete, the two of them become buddies. Weird.

We’re introduced to a handful of fighters with just enough screen time to count as characters. Cliff (Ron Hall) was the one who suggested
Alex consult Ray for help. Sergio (Nicholas Hill) is a self-proclaimed street
fighter and another of Alex’s impromptu friends. And Kim (Lisa McCullogh) is…well, not a
man. Admittedly, all of these characters have equally little substance, but how the film handles Kim is particularly irritating.
The screenplay *cannot* get over the fact that she’s a woman. She’s introduced
as the first female fighter to compete in the Kumite, and her reception in entering into an exclusively male domain is kinda harrowing. Her peers
hit on her, treat fights with her as a mockery, and go out of their way to try to
humiliate her. There are sexual jokes, and Ray feels compelled to protect her
more than he would any other fighter. At one point, she’s kissed against her
will. To be fair, the spotlight shines on her a little more than the other
fighters, but it’s disappointing what the filmmakers chose to
focus on.

Once the Kumite commences, I ascend to martial arts heaven. While it’s boring in the sense that the story all but stops, it’s
exciting in that I’ve rarely come across a collection of fight scenes that
consistently maintains such a high standard. While it lacks the original movie’s
theatrical touch, it nevertheless surpasses its predecessor in substance by presenting all
fights in their entirety. Nothing against montages, but give me any number of
consecutive brawls over a collection of snippets any day. There’s a lot of
back-and-forth action and long, uninterrupted shots – the foundations of any
great fight scene. The only real disappointment here is Demon, who – like Alex
– is very obviously modeled after his counterpart in the first film. Demon is arrogant,
plays to the crowd and flexes his muscles a lot, but the performance has a forced
look and can’t touch Bolo Yeung as Chong Li. A reenactment
of the judges turning their backs on the villain after he kills a competitor feels particularly desperate.

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As he advances through the tournament, Alex also has to worry about retrieving
the sword. Despite having been offered David Leung’s vast resources, Alex is determined to carry out the recovery by himself.
It’s not clear why, but his plan bears fruit: he tricks
John into appearing for a faux transaction, then has the police show up to
arrest him – but not before a quick fight.
Ray and Sergio are searching for Alex at the same time, and in coming upon the
scene, Sergio is shot in the leg by John’s bodyguard. They don’t make a huge
deal about this, but I’m a little indignant. After all, Sergio had a real
shot of winning the tournament by now, and his injury could have been avoided if Alex hadn’t been all lone
wolf about this.

TRIVIA: Eight months after the film’s release, Nicholas Hill competed in the World Vale Tudo Championships under the ring name
Niccolaus. Though Hill was a legitimate martial artist who owned a dojo, he hadn’t competed before and lost to his opponent, future UFC star Pedro Rizzo. While the promoters viewed this as a one-off adventure and publicity stunt, Hill was in fact eager to compete and thus embarked on a six-year career as a pro MMA fighter.

With the sword retrieved, Alex has an excellent match against another
semifinalist (Chad Stahelski) en route to meeting Demon in the finals. Things start out bad for Alex: he goes down following a few hard strikes, exclaiming that “[Demon’s] arms are like
cement.” Demon nearly eliminates
Alex by targeting his leg, but the protagonist rallies upon receiving help
from an unexpected source. Unbeknownst to him, David has already freed Sun, who
is present at the match and is able to remind Alex of his training. By
channeling his inner strength, Alex is able to defeat Demon’s ‘cement arms’
with his Iron Palm. Upon victory, Alex is awarded the sword, but later presents
it to Sun in gratitude.

The film ends with a thoroughly unearned kiss between Alex and Janine (Lori
Lynn Dickerson). She’s technically been his love interest throughout the movie,
but has been so underutilized that I haven’t bothered mentioning her.

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I have to admit, the storyline seems a little less sound than when I first saw
the movie. The narrative hops around a
little and, with the exception of Alex and Sun, it doesn’t do a great job of
building character relationships. Nevertheless, the film
largely succeeds in recapturing the first film’s ambience. No mention is made of the
original’s protagonist, Frank Dux, but it feels like this is the same world he
inhabits. My favorite aspect of this is the extensive assortment of fighters,
which measures up well to the first movie’s. It’s the same kind of cattle call
for martial artists, and the varied personalities that show up are impressive.
Nicholas Hill, Philip Tan, and grappler Gokor Chivichyan are (or would be) champions in
their respective disciplines; judge Hee Il Cho and fighter Jerry Piddington
give the roster some clout as legitimate masters; Ron Hall is hands-down one of
the most exciting performers in America. It’s a great ensemble,
unmatched in size and skill in all but a few movies.

On the surface, Bloodsport II seems
like a pretty straightforward film with an unambitious story. However, given that
the script supposedly underwent considerable rewrites, it’s worth looking at a
little more closely for signs of intrigue. Sure enough, there seem to
be traces of a deeper story here. The mention of Alex’s past as the unhappy son
of missionaries, Sun’s backstory as an immigrant in Thailand, and the
hints of a more established relationship between Alex, Cliff, and Sergio
provide some fodder for headcanon. However, the part that got me thinking more than
anything is an almost overlookable snippet in the film’s first half. When Alex is
thrown into the sweatbox, he experiences a series of
hallucinations; many of these are just replayed footage of past events, but
there’s also a momentary shot of him placing a damp cloth on a prone Sun’s
head. This scene never occurs elsewhere in the movie, and it’s actually the reverse
of what happens when Sun nurses Alex back to health. This may simply be
salvaged footage from a deleted scene, but I interpret it as Alex’s realization
of his transformation. The relationship between him and Sun had almost
exclusively been to his benefit until then, but soon after, Alex makes his commitment
to free his teacher. Alex seems to have been endowed with a sense of purpose during the
sweatbox torture and comes to see himself as Sun’s savior. Such extraordinary conviction
may explain his confidence in handling a life & death situation later (i.e.
the bust on John), and it even justifies the seemingly empty spiritual talk
throughout the movie. Basically, I think Alex received a supernatural
premonition in the hotbox. After all, heat exhaustion is often used as a
catalyst in trances.

In an interview on The Voice Versus
TV show, the real-life Frank Dux claimed that the reason Bloodsport II “never went anywhere” was because he wasn’t involved
in its production and it lacked his style of fight choreography. It seems more likely that the film’s obscurity is
due to that it was a low-budgeted limited release produced by
filmmakers who specialized in DTV work and didn’t star Van Damme. Daniel
Bernhardt has since played supporting villains in major pictures, but I don’t
think there are too many casual viewers looking up his past work. As such, Bloodsport II doesn’t stand on accolades
or cult fame; it stands solely on its merits, and in that regard, I’d argue
that it definitely does go places. It has a good cast, excellent fight scenes, and it’s colorful and fun to look at. It’s
a smooth, exhilarating adventure whose faults don’t come close to dragging it
down. I’d even say that as far as pure DTV martial arts flicks go, this is one
of the very best. Check it out!

TRIVIA: The movie features 28 full-length
fight scenes – seven more than its predecessor. This officially makes it one of the
most fight-crammed U.S. productions ever released.

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Bloodsport
II: The Next Kumite
(1996)
Directed by Alan Mehrez (Bloodsport III)
Written by Jeff Schechter (creator
of the TV show Stitchers)
Starring Daniel Bernhardt (True Vengeance), James Hong (Big Trouble in Little China), Donald
Gibb, Pat Morita (The Karate Kid series)
Cool costars: Hans Ong (Dragon: The Bruce Lee Story), Philip Tan
(Martial Law), Ron Hall (Triple Impact), Nicholas Hill (Fists of Iron), Hee Il Cho (Best of the Best), Jeff Wolfe (Once Upon a Time in China and America),
Nils Allen Stewart (Mercenary), Earl
White (Heatseeker), Gokor Chivichyan
(Streets of Rage). Lisa McCullogh was
one of Uma Thurman’s stunt doubles in Kill
Bill Vol. 1
. Chad Stahelski has since become one of the top Hollywood fight
choreographers. Fighters Jerry Piddington and Ken Harte don’t have many other
credits but are respected as masters in the martial arts community. The
credits claim that good ol’ Eric Lee is in here, playing a character called
Seng, but I haven’t been able to identify him.
Title refers to: The tournament. Whether it’s actually the next Kumite – i.e. the one following the original film’s – isn’t clear.
Content warning: Prison violence and abuse, group violence, torture, sexual harassment and assault
Copyright FM Entertainment
International N.V.

Reviewnalysis: Black Cobra (2012)

*SPOILERS
AHEAD*

When you begin to appreciate how talented of a performer T.J. Storm is,
it’s surprising that it took so long for him to get a solo vehicle. Even though
Storm (born Juan Ojeda) entered the direct-to-video martial arts field at its
zenith, it wasn’t until the genre had gone through an
economic slump and been revived that he briefly became a leading man. The movie
that makes this possible looks like a shoestring operation, but despite being
plagued by some typical low-budget problems, it’s this scanty amount of
resources that – in true B-movie fashion – brings out the best in the
people involved. Black Cobra isn’t a
showstopper and it’s unlikely to become your new favorite, but if your
appreciation of martial arts cinema includes pure effort and heart,
this one’s worth looking at.

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Black Cobra is based on a novel by Sebati E. Mafate, When the Cobra
Strikes
. I can’t say whether the movie’s a faithful
adaptation, but its opening ten minutes show the filmmakers trying to
establish a lot of backstory in as little time as possible. The basis of the plot
is that Sizwe Biko (Storm) – a South African martial artist of mixed race – must find a way to release his father from jail. His dad (Michael
Chinyamurindi) is a political prisoner from the time of apartheid, and he’s
being targeted for murder by racist prison guards. He gives Sizwe
the location of the family’s treasured diamonds, which Sizwe intends
to sell so he can pay off a corrupt judge. He’d probably
prefer to do this in South Africa, but after one of the aforementioned guards
(Robert Pike Daniel) follows him to the hiding place with a couple of men
(one of them’s his son) and they’re all killed in the resulting fight, Sizwe contacts a friend in Los
Angeles (Jeff Wolfe) who agrees to help him hock the diamonds. Leaving behind
his angry fiancée (Ursula Taherian) and the martial arts master who trained him
in snake kung fu (Damion Poitier), he heads to California.

All of the above happens before the main title screen. It’s an ungraceful narrative, but nevertheless, this pseudo-montage has introduced
us to the overarching theme of the feature: the relationship between fathers
and sons. In Black Cobra, this relationship is directly connected to mortality; we’ve
already seen the racist prison guard die alongside his son, while Sizwe undertakes a life-threatening mission to save his father.

In Los Angeles, Sizwe is received by his old schoolmate Mpho – played by the
author of the book – and his roommates Gerald (J.T. Jackson) and
Gilroy (Floyd Gilmor). What they lack in indispensability they
tend to make up in likability…although Mpho’s idea to throw a party and hook
Sizwe up with a woman clearly isn’t well-advised. The evening features poor Sizwe
all but fleeing the advances of one of the ladies (Ogy Durham) and
later knocking a drunken guest into the pool after being challenged to defend
himself.

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The following night, Sizwe is finally picked up by Nicholas, the guy who’s
to help him sell the diamonds. Nicholas is quite high and makes a suspicious impression, but Sizwe goes with him anyway. They pay a
visit to Goro Tanaka (Cary Hiroyuki-Tagawa), a Yakuza lord looking to get into the
jewelry business. Tanaka’s son Satoshi (Richard Dorton), Nicholas’ contact, is desperate to impress his apathetic father – so desperate that following
the exchange, Satoshi and his goons attack Sizwe and steal back the money. During the attack, Nicholas stands by and
snorts some heroin. Satoshi’s intentions are clear – he wants his father to
notice him – but as Nicholas leaves his friend for dead, it’s
not clear why he’s done this. While his betrayal is never adequately explained,
it’s mentioned that he’s trying to produce a movie and needs the money Satoshi pays him for the double-cross. It’s possible that his drug habits have leveled any previous finances, and now he’s trying to simultaneously pay for both a film and his heroin use.

Sizwe is brought back home by a sympathetic passer-by called Vicky (C. Traci
Murase). Unable to locate Nicholas and not knowing what else to do, he
turns to a former martial arts instructor of
his – Shihan Kris (Stephanie Cheeva). Shihan’s first act is to test Sizwe with a fight scene
the moment he enters her home (“A simple hello would have sufficed!” Sizwe
complains afterwards). Despite
this violent reception, his teacher is pretty helpful, first giving him a potion to speed up his healing and then helping him locate Nicholas through his
father – another martial arts instructor.

Vicky – suddenly a part of Sizwe’s group –
helps them gain entry to Nicholas’ home by posing as a deliveryperson. Embarrassingly,
Nicholas is caught in the presence of escorts and planning trips to Las Vegas. Sizwe and his friends kidnap him, along
with the women (I’m not sure why). Sizwe & Co. interrogate them, but Nicholas
proves to be resourceful and surprises the friends while Sizwe is out of
the room – beating up Gilroy and Mpho while still tied to a chair. This leads
to a showdown between Sizwe and Nicholas, and while it’s the best
fight in the movie, I must admit dissatisfaction. Both performers are
talented, but the editing is overactive – constantly flipping between shots
and providing no smooth, start-to-finish
exchanges.

After Nicholas is defeated and successfully interrogated, you’d think
it’s time for Sizwe to get his diamonds back, but the movie has him contend
with some relationship drama first. Vicky has inexplicably fallen for Sizwe,
and while he politely rebuffs her, his fiancée turns up in L.A. and assumes that the
two are having an affair. This leads to a gratuitous catfight. They don’t rip
off each other’s clothes or anything, but there’s a really sheepish instance of
male pandering where they’re scrapping and cussing each other out while an oblivious
Sizwe showers. It’s an unnecessary confrontation that’s never mentioned again, and the reason that Sizwe’s fiancée – Kiki – came was to reveal that she’s pregnant. This doesn’t effect the story
much, but I suppose it raises the stakes a little.

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When Sizwe finally heads to Tanaka’s base of operations, he walks into a
highpoint of family drama. Frustrated that his father refuses to give him 
responsibility, Satoshi attempts a foolhardy takeover with the help of a rival
underworld faction, but his efforts are stomped on by the
better-prepared Tanaka. Tanaka favors a young protégé called Kogi (Jamison
Wang), and after Satoshi is subsequently disowned, the disgraced son takes
advantage of the chaos Sizwe causes to kill Koji with a tanto.
Finding his disciple slain, Tanaka blames Sizwe and unleashes all his minions on him.

There’s a pretty decent fight wherein Sizwe engages two knife-wielding bodyguards
(Jade Quon and Kiralee Hayashi). One of them was among Satoshi’s goons who
attacked Sizwe earlier, and it’s treated as a reveal when we see that
there are two of them. They wear masks
half of the time, so I’m not sure whether they’re supposed to be twins, but I
get the impression that there’s some untold story behind these two. Whatever
the case, Sizwe kills them by redirecting their blades at each other – similar to
the technique he used to slay the racist guard’s son. Afterwards, he engages the remainder of Tanaka’s thugs and eventually takes the fight to the aggrieved boss himself, who attacks him
with a sword.

Sizwe gets the upper hand on Tanaka, his kung fu beating out the old man’s
kenjutsu, but Satoshi appears and halts
the fight by pointing a gun at Sizwe’s head. Satoshi makes one final bid
for his father’s approval, but Tanaka notices the bloody knife still in his
hand. Realizing that his rage was misdirected, Tanaka
charges and kills Satoshi. As Sizwe looks on in shock, an exhausted Tanaka throws
him a suitcase filled with the money from their deal and tells him to go. The
Yakuza boss is left kneeling over his son’s body, his empire devastated and his
lineage lost.

After so much violence, it’s a feat that the movie manages a happy ending, with
Sizwe emotionally receiving his father as he exits the prison. As they walk offscreen, we see that by some unexplained means, Sizwe has
regained his diamonds (perhaps they were in the suitcase) and used them to repay his allies with. We also see an epilogue of Nicholas,
who tears a photo of him and Sizwe in half and lights the image of his former
friend on fire. You don’t get the impression that he’s plotting revenge or anything,
but he’s got to be reflecting on how his willingness to double-cross a pal has
led to his financial detriment. I don’t think he’s ever going to get that movie
made.

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Having watched Black Cobra a few
times, I can summarize it as decent movie that could have been better.
The story shows a lot of promise, the martial cast is great, and T.J. Storm
makes a great lead, but problems with the pacing keep this one down. There’s
simply too much story to tell and the screenplay falls over itself in trying.
There are at least a couple out-of-the-blue flashbacks where the movie seems to
be saying “Oh shoot, I forgot to mention this!” There’s also some needless
timeline-hopping, not to mention a whole subsection regarding a private
investigator (director Scott Donovan) that I didn’t bother mentioning
because it’s facetious to the plot. Problems like these remind you that this otherwise
good-looking movie is an indie production, prone to amateur mistakes, and makes
me wish that Lionsgate sent the film back to the editing bay before releasing it.
(Then again, DTV action flicks are often victims of studio meddling, so
perhaps I should blame these shortcomings on
Lionsgate itself.) It’s far from unwatchable, but also far from perfect.

Nevertheless, I do recommend the movie, in part to promote diversity
within the subgenre. DTV martial arts flicks aren’t ethnically exclusive,
but aside from the fact that you’re unlikely to find a dark-skinned protagonist
unless it’s in a Wesley Snipes or Michael Jai White vehicle, it’s particularly
rare to come across a film wherein neither the protagonist nor the lead villain
are white. The use of animal kung fu in a modern fight flick is likewise pretty
unique, and while my complaints about the action content still stand, I appreciate
the little touches that choreographer Ken Ohara put in to distinguish Sizwe’s
fighting style. And despite already having been in the movie business for over two
decades when the film was released, T.J. Storm approaches his role with all the
enthusiasm of Jean-Claude Van Damme in Bloodsport
imbuing it with the energy of a true breakout vehicle. I really hope he gets top billing again.

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Someone who also elevates the
movie is Cary Hiroyuki-Tagawa. Tagawa’s one of a few performers who are able to crisscross
between B-movies and mainstream cinema without damage to his career. Like Lance Henriksen and John Rhys-Davies, the guy can go from filming big-budget
work to a movie like
this, bringing some flair to it without losing his dignity. He goes the extra mile here by partaking in that
swordfight: even though Tagawa will always be known as a martial artist
for his role in Mortal Kombat, look
up his filmography and take note of how rarely he’ll actually do fight scenes. His return to actual action is perfectly
respectable, and I hope he’s not done mixing it up like this.

The film’s theme of fathers and sons is interesting. The most obvious comparison it wants you to consider is between the Bikos and the Tanakas;
at first, it seems like a simple contrast between a good father-son
relationship and a bad one, but the two sets are actually pretty similar in that both feature the son risking death for his
father’s sake. Again, mortality is key: the life of Sizwe’s father
is dependent on his son surviving his adventure, and Tanaka’s absence from the
epilogue seems to indicate with his son dead, he has no
future left. Then there’s the relationship between Nicholas
and his dad, who isn’t even credited. The decision not actually credit the latter may illustrate how the (presumably) distant
relationship between Nicholas and his father has caused both of them to fade from
prominence: Nicholas can’t get his movie made, and his pop can’t even get
credited! The fate of the father affects the fate of the son, and vice-versa.

I think Liongate’s marketing department made a questionable decision with this
one’s Region 1 DVD cover. It looks like it’s modeled after the artwork of a 50
Cent album, and in no way conveys that this is a movie about an African kung fu
practitioner who takes on an American Yakuza faction. For reasons like
this, the movie seems to have gone under most peoples’ radar, but while I can’t
justify urging viewers to see it like I might some other hidden gem, I still
hope that its audience will grow over time. Black
Cobra
isn’t a movie to change our lives, but because we all love a genre that’s often criticized for unoriginality, we should celebrate instances of
uniqueness. Give it a try, maybe?

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Black
Cobra
(2012)
Directed by Scott Donovan, Lilly
Melgar (co-director)
Written by Scott Donovan, Sebati E.
Mafate
Starring T.J. Storm (Conan the Adventurer), Cary Hiroyuki- Tagawa, Jeff
Wolfe (Once Upon a Time in China and
America
), Ursula Taherian (Carver)
Cool costars: Damion Poitier (Hunter Prey), Stephanie Cheeva (The Ultimate Game), Jade Quon (Raze), Kiralee Hayashi. Tanaka’s
henchmen include Anthony Nanakornpanom (Broken
Path
), Tsuyoshi Abe (Sword of Honor),
Sam Looc (Falcon Rising), and
Tadahiro Nakamura (various Power Ranger
incarnations). Harrison Snider, who plays the drunken guest who challenges
Sizwe, is actually a competitive tae kwon do practitioner who operates the Helix
Martial Arts studio in Colorado.
Title refers to: Sizwe mentions that his nickname is “the cobra.” And he happens to be black.
Potential triggers:
Racist dialogue, racially-motivated violence, group violence, homophobic dialogue, torture
Copyright
Sizwe Productions, LLC.

Reviewnalysis: The King of the Kickboxers (1990)

*SPOILERS
AHEAD*

The No Retreat, No Surrender series
is a benchmark of western martial arts cinema and a personal favorite of mine.
Ask a casual fan how many installments it contains and they’ll say three, but
ask me and I’ll say seven – pointing to the stylistic similarities between all
seven of the U.S. movies produced by the Seasonal Film Corporation. In this
regard, The King of the Kickboxers
may be called No Retreat, No
Surrender IV
, and I’m happy to say that it retains many of its predecessors’
strengths. A few glaring shortcomings make it pretty weak in some respects and
repeat viewings have definitely sobered my initial impression, but nevertheless,
it’s still a cult classic and arguably the last good movie that Loren Avedon
starred in. Fight fans with a taste for the exotic will love this.

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The film opens energetically in 1981 at the Samrong Stadium of Bangkok, where
American kickboxer Sean Donahue (Michael DePasquale, Jr.) wins the “Thai
Kickboxing Grand Championship” while his younger brother Jake (Patrick Shuck) cheers
him on. As the brothers depart the arena in a tuk-tuk taxi, Jake expresses
concern that some of the spectators seemed angry at an American winning the
title, and it turns out that his fears aren’t unfounded. In a rural part of
town, the taxi is stopped and Sean is accosted by a group of thugs. Their
leader, a rifle-toting man of African descent (Billy Blanks), informs him that
“An American can never be champion. You should not have won the fight tonight,
and you won’t win this one.” He attacks Sean, easily killing him with a set of
three devastating kicks. For good measure, the stranger breaks the
championship belt in half and beats Jake unconscious, leaving him with a facial
scar and a singed photograph as reminders of the night.

The assailant’s name is Khan, and in case this post fails to convey it
otherwise, know that he’s one of the most over-the-top villains I’ve
seen in a martial arts movie.

TRIVIA: The stadium in the movie may
allude to two actual locations in Bangkok – Muay Samrong Boxing Stadium and
Samrong Boxing Stadium. Both are located on Samrong Road and feature fights on
Friday and Sunday nights.

Ten years into the future, Jake has become a New York detective of particular
caliber. Our first scene of the grown boy – now played by Loren Avedon – is of him engaging in an
undercover drug deal. After the dealers incriminate themselves (and
voice a disregard for the wellbeing of children to boot), Jake purposely blows
his cover so’s to fight the aggressors hand-to-hand. After
thoroughly beating them and using a space heater to fry the face of their
leader (Jerry Trimble), his backup arrives, furious because Jake purposely
provided them with the wrong location. In summary, Jake is the consummate 80s
karate cop: too good for guns and too ahead of the curve to regard protocol,
whose use of police brutality is only fleetingly mentioned afterwards. New
York’s crime scene is no match for him, so his enraged captain (Oscar nominee Richard Jaeckel) assigns him to an Interpol case regarding snuff films produced
in Bangkok.

Clearly feeling his dark past, Jake is initially against the idea of working in
Thailand, but once he realizes that the man beating people to death on the tape
is none other than Khan, he becomes determined to take
revenge. Naturally, he decides against telling anyone about his personal
investment – not his captain, and not his Bangkok contact (Don
Stroud).

It’s interesting that while Jake is upset by the memories the tape
brings up, he regains his cocky confidence by the time he makes it to
Southeast Asia. He looks like a tourist in the introductory montage, and even
after he meets with his contact, he doesn’t seem particularly perturbed that the
three agents who’ve worked on the case before him have been killed. To be fair,
he can take care of himself: in an attempt to get noticed by the criminals, he
shoots his mouth off at the “Bangkok Kickboxing Academy” and handily wins an
impromptu brawl against three boxers. Perhaps he’d be a little more cautious if
he knew that Khan had only recently killed a fighter who likewise had held his
own against three attackers, after being tricked onto the set of the latest
snuff movie. While Jake will have the opportunity to address his own arrogance, the unfortunate fighter – played by Bruce Fontaine – is
left hanging by his jaw on a meat hook.

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Khan and Jake are indirectly connected through a new character: Molly (Sherrie
Rose), an American model who’s presented to Khan by his unscrupulous filmmakers
as an unwilling prize. Molly escapes a near-rape but is pursued by Khan’s
thugs, from whom she’s rescued by Jake. Jake finds a temporary haven at her apartment,
and to be honest, the scene which follows is where I begin to tire of the
character. Not only is Jake an ace cop and awesome warrior, he’s now also
presented as a reader of women who lays Molly’s backstory bare for her – no
need for her to assert her character at all. The movie ends up handling the
relationship between these two with relative decency, but Jake’s become a real
problem. He’s way too cocky for me to admire the extent of his talents, and just isn’t very likable.

TRIVIA: Loren Avedon and Sherrie Rose
didn’t actually get along. Following a rocky behind-the-scenes relationship, Rose reportedly bad-mouthed Avedon to producers at the PM Entertainment studio after landing a contract with the company. Avedon claims that word got around and he was effectively blackballed from Hollywood.

Luckily, the humbling of Jake Donahue begins the following morning, when he’s
accosted by a fighter from the gym. “Thasi” (Ong Soo Han) engages
him in a quick fight, showing him that in fact even a modest boxer can actually
best him. Upon hearing that Jake is after Khan, the spirit of comradery moves Thasi to point Jake in the direction of Master Prang – a secluded hermit living
in the jungle, and the only fighter to have almost beaten Khan. Jake
ventures there but is disappointed that the master (Keith Cooke)
appears to be an alcoholic loser who shares his home with a pet chimpanzee.
Jake leaves in disgust, but not before the chimp steals his passport. When Jake comes back looking for it, he finds Prang confronted by a gang of knife-wielding thugs – likely
sent by the malicious filmmakers to abduct him for their upcoming
film. Jake holds his own, but as things get tough, Prang leaps into action and
demolishes the attackers with a series of amazing kicks.

Prang builds a rapport with Jake, and their exchanges end up being a highlight
of the movie. Prang’s alcoholism is revealed as a façade to make
him appear less threatening to Khan following their close fight. He
agrees to train Jake, and as tends to be the case in martial arts movies, these
scenes are a blast to watch. Prang’s methods are a combination of novelty and
brute force: instead of teaching Jake new fighting techniques, he primarily
assaults him with a club and tortures him with rope & pulley contraptions.
Prang claims that the point of the training is to prepare Jake for Khan’s
fearsome triple kick attack, and to simulate this, he swings whole logs at him.
It’s refreshingly human to see Jake lose patience at times, but it’s sort of amazing
that he survives the ordeal.

I wish that the screenplay focused more on Prang and his quest. While
Jake’s journey is a direct parallel to the mythical hero’s, Prang is in the
unique situation of having downplayed his own heroic qualities. He assumes the
role of the mentor, though the interactions between Jake and him (not to
mention the closeness between the actors’ ages) make them seem like equals. Most
unconventionally, Prang has very little moral high ground: though he claims that
he won’t train a murderer, that’s largely what he ends up doing, and despite
his attempts at emotional detachment, it’s not a stretch to assume that he
resents his predicament and wouldn’t mind seeing Khan dead. Prang’s
story is probably more interesting than it’s given credit for, and it’d be neat
if he had more time in the spotlight.

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Having recently evaded another kidnapping attempt, Molly ventures to Prang’s
place, and Prang arranges for her to spend the night with Jake. There’s a scene
wherein Molly joins Jake in the bathtub, and the story behind it is worth a
tangent… According to writer Keith Strandberg, an actress who had previously
been cast for the role pulled out due to the required nudity. Sherrie Rose objected as well once filming had begun, being unwilling to
film the part where Molly bares her breasts. Shooting was halted as the
filmmakers tried to persuade her, going so far as to argue that someone who
had posed for Playboy shouldn’t
object to onscreen nakedness. Eventually, the nudity takes a condensed
form, with Rose’s breasts visible for only about two seconds. Rose’s protest – and especially her
successful compromise – is a rarity within the B-movie world, where catering
to male demographics could result in a demanding environment for actresses
and where a refusal to perform nude could end a career. (For a more complete take on
the state of sexuality within B-movies during the ‘90s, see Odette Springer’s
documentary Some Nudity Required.)

With his training complete, Jake engages in a series of underground fights and
successfully catches the eye of one of the snuff producers (David Michael
Sterling). He’s recruited with promises of starring in an action movie, and
despite the protests of his police superiors, he’s determined to risk death in
order to stop the crime ring. Following one more night with Molly and a
final exchange with Prang, Jake rows off to the shooting location. The set is an
enormous bamboo cage built in a river, with platforms to fight on rising out of
the water. Dozens of extras dressed in aboriginal garb watch as he enters the
cage, wearing an ornate mask and costume. It’s an impressive sight.

Jake takes on a number of spear-wielding assailants, but these guys are a mere warm-up for his true opponent. Khan appears, likewise
garbed in costume, and to Jake’s horror, he’s carrying the unconscious
Molly under his arm. He’s also carrying a sack, which he throws into the water
to reveal the body of the murdered Prang. With Molly now held in a rope net
and the filmmakers’ desired pathos achieved, Jake and Khan commence fighting. The
match is one of my all-time favorites, filled with back-and-forth action, and
both performers are at their best. Particularly Billy Blanks looks extremely powerful and more than capable of
hanging with the Hong Kong-style choreography.

TRIVIA: The outfits worn by Jake and
Khan are costumes from Thailand’s khon theater. Jake’s outfit
appears to represent Hanuman, the Hindu monkey god, while
Khan’s probably represents the demon lord
Ravana. In Hindu mythology, Hanuman was instrumental in the vanquishing of
Ravana by the avatar Rama.

Jake eventually defeats his opponent, and Khan is mortally wounded when he’s
thrown under the spiked gate of the entryway. His last act is an attempt to
kill Molly by loosening the rope holding her up, but Jake catches her.
As the filmmakers revel in excitement, thinking they’ll be able to replace Khan
with Jake, the Thai police and Jake’s superiors arrive to chase everyone into
the jungle. As the cage is incinerated with a rocket launcher – presumably
destroying the bodies of Khan and Prang inside – Jake and Molly embrace in
front of the flames. Richard Yuen’s pleasant
soundtrack ushers us into the end credits.

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The King of the Kickboxers was
released a year after Jean-Claude Van Damme’s Kickboxer,
and while strong parallels between their screenplays are apparent, the former
manages to stand out for its style. Whereas Kickboxer
is clearly an American movie, The King of
the Kickboxers
has a much stronger Hong Kong flavor. Personally, I think it has the more believable and stronger
characters. But like
Kickboxer, I’m disappointed by the
lack of actual Thai performers among the prominent cast. Ong Soo Han is Malaysian, but Thai actors are uniformly relegated to bit parts. Billy Blanks doesn’t pass as Oriental at all,
despite the use of eyeliner.

Speaking of Blanks, I was so curious about his casting that I contacted Keith
Strandberg and asked about the character. I wanted to know whether Khan was in
fact anything other than a “pure” Thai, and I speculated that he may be
half-Thai or even a foreign expatriate. Strandberg – who was very pleasant and
can be contacted through his website – affirmed my former suggestion and
explained the basis for Khan’s antagonism. He said that Khan is the son of a
Thai mother and a U.S. serviceman who abandoned them while Khan was young,
thereby sparking his hatred of Americans. This is illuminating, but makes me
wonder about Khan’s relationship to the snuff filmmakers. They
certainly appear to be American, yet seem to have such control over Khan that
the Marlon Brando lookalike (William Long, Jr.) is able to make fun of
him without repercussion. There’s probably a lot more to this than I’m privy to, but despite being a
murderer and a sadist, Khan comes across as someone controlled by anger but who’s also been taken advantage of by other people.

The action content is really darn good, thanks in large part to the innovation
of fight choreographer Tony Leung. Leung would later work on the martial arts epic Ip Man, and you can definitely see a lot of his skill here in how he directs so many diverse performers to grand
results. I truly love the martial cast in this one, but the only real
drawbacks are the shortness of some of the fights and the fact that most of the
fighters only have one or two brawls apiece. Fans of Hong Kong regulars Steve
Tartalia and Vincent Lyn will be disappointed how uninvolved they are in Loren
Avedon’s first fight.

Speaking of Avedon, you have to love his enthusiasm. Loren would grow into a more
skillful actor as time went on, but at this point, all he had going for him was
fervor and the kind of natural charisma that most successful B-movie stars
have. Most of the acting in the film is along these lines, so if you can’t
stand extra raw drama, this isn’t for you. Of course, there’s some skillful
acting in here too, and while some viewers may name Richard Jaeckel or Don Stroud
the best performer, I give the title to Sherrie Rose. Jaeckel and Stroud play
stock characters they probably could have done in their sleep, while
the onus to create an original persona is on Rose. While she isn’t
given the opportunity to excel, she definitely gets her personality through and
is noticeably more nuanced than everyone she interacts with.

The King of the Kickboxers is
predictable and thematically unambitious, but no one can say that the
filmmakers didn’t put a lot of effort into it. As one of the most colorful
entries of the Seasonal Film series, it’s worth owning for both established
fans and general karate lovers alike. It’s definitely required viewing for
serious followers of the martial arts B-movie subgenre. Check it out!

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The
King of the Kickboxers
(1990)
Directed by Lucas Lowe (American
Shaolin
)
Written by Keith W. Strandberg (screenplay, original story), Ng See-Yuen
(original story), John Kay (uncredited)
Starring Loren Avedon, Billy Blanks
(Tough and Deadly), Keith Cooke (Mortal Kombat), Sherrie Rose (Me and Will)
Cool costars: Hans Ong (Dragon: The Bruce Lee Story), Jerry
Trimble (The Master), Bruce Fontaine
(Outlaw Brothers), Michael
DePasquale, Jr. (China Heat), Steve
Tartalia (Death Cage), Vincent Lyn (Operation Condor). Hong Kong regular Mark King (Once Upon a Time in China) plays an uncredited police officer.
Title refers to: It’s written on a film slate visible after Khan’s death. Presumably, this is the name of the snuff film being shot and therefore would refer to Jake.
Potential triggers: Extreme violence, child abuse, violence against women
Copyright Seasonal Film Corporation

Reviewnalysis: Breathing Fire (1991)

*SPOILERS
AHEAD*

Corey Yuen’s 1986 cult masterpiece No
Retreat, No Surrender
had a lasting influence on western martial arts
movies. Not only did it give us Jean-Claude Van Damme, but it raised the bar
for fight choreography and provided us a taste of the Hong Kong style prior to the action
revolution of the late 90s. In some cases the influence was even greater than
that, as a couple filmmakers produced movies that for all the world appear to be NRNS’s spiritual successors. One
of these – Breathing Fire – seems
like a genuine attempt to replicate the unique recipe of American and Hong Kong
flavors, complete with odd writing, an upbeat tone, and superior action
scenes. This one’s a karate treasure – not great at
storytelling but utterly successful in holding a viewer’s attention.

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TRIVIA: Breathing Fire and No
Retreat, No Surrender
and indeed related, though only through personnel. Director
Brandon Pender is credited for “kick boxing direction” in NRNS, and producer Wayne Yee played a bit part in it.

The film opens with a surreal scene of antagonist Michael Moore (Jerry Trimble) siting at a table bedecked with artificial food. It’s completely
unexplained – possibly a dream sequence – but it
introduces us to one of the film’s most prominent themes: deception and false
fronts. The next scene is of Michael driving his two
teenage sons to a martial arts tournament; he seems
like a perfectly normal father, but right after dropping
the boys off, he leads a bank robbery wherein his
squad steals a fortune in gold bars. They stow these in the vault of an
abandoned metal refinery until they can be sold, and Michael comes up with a unique way of keeping everyone honest. He creates
a mold of the vault’s keys in a plastic pizza, then destroys the originals and
divides the pizza among his people. Mutual cooperation will be necessary to
recast the keys.

Michael’s gang is made up of the deceptive Jenny (Jacqueline Pulliam),
karate master Alan (Allen Tackett), the mighty Tank (Wendell C. Whitaker), and
the muscleman Thunder (Bolo Yeung). They’re the ones who actually rob the bank,
but another person who’s also in on the scheme is Peter Stern (Drake Diamond), an
employee who has second thoughts about the operation after the
sadistic Thunder shoves his face into a toilet. He tries to
get out of the deal, but the paranoid Michael follows him home and
murders him and his wife (Jackie O’Brien). They search for his slice of the pizza,
but Peter had already sent his teenage daughter Annie (Laura Hamilton) to mail it to a confidant. Annie witnesses the murder from afar and flees with her
puppy, heading for the address on the envelope. However, the villains
acquire the same lead from a trashed envelope.

Annie shows up at an auto garage and meets the addressee: David Moore (Ed Neil),
Michael’s brother. Shortly after Annie gives him the envelope and asks for
help, Alan and a couple thugs arrive to kidnap her. David is knocked around a
bit, but eventually reveals himself as a kung fu master and drives
the attackers away. He goes with Annie to what he believes is a safe haven –
Michael’s luxurious home. The danger is immediately apparent to us: though neither is at liberty
to reveal anything, Michael knows who Annie is while Annie recognizes him from before. Neither is able to do anything directly: Annie doesn’t dare
leave David’s vicinity and Michael can’t act while others are around – “others”
meaning David and his sons Charlie (Jonathan Ke Quan) and Tony (Eddie
Saavedra).

In addition to being the stars of the movie, Charlie and Tony are also my
favorite things about it. Quan and Saavedra aren’t master thespians, but they
have a lovable, dorky enthusiasm and excellent chemistry. Charlie is a
Vietnamese adoptee but the comradery
between his stepbrother and he is natural and heartfelt. Charlie doesn’t seem
as close with his father, though our only real hint of this for now is a moment
when he feels excluded from introductions with David. Nevertheless, the boys
take an immediate liking to Annie, and though they try to impress her, their
relationship ends up being pretty innocent as they try to keep her mind off her
troubles. The brothers know nothing about their father’s involvement in crime
and suspect nothing when Michael’s thugs show up to take Annie. Having
previously qualified for a national martial arts competition, the boys can hold
their own against these guys, but it takes the intervening David to beat back the attackers.

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The boys take their roles as protectors seriously, and implore David to teach them
his style of fighting. However, they fail their very first test – an exercise wherein
they kneel on upturned bricks. Worse, David’s ability to protect the kids
himself is dashed after the boys and he trace their attackers to a dance club
owned by Alan. Michael is at the club, too, and shows an increased
level of ruthlessness by attacking his brother in the near-dark and injuring his
leg.

TRIVIA: Prior to acting, Jerry Trimble
was a professional kickboxer and 2-time world champion. Ironically, Trimble originally aspired to be an actor and learned martial arts to emulate Bruce Lee.

At the hospital, a doctor claims that David will never be whole again. David
doesn’t take his new disability well and hides himself away. When the boys visit, he lashes out at them. Eventually, they manage to rekindle his spirits and
earn his instructorship by kneeling on bricks all night. David commences their training, and in doing so realizes that his disability won’t keep him from exercising his
passion. It also illustrates another prominent theme: dealing with trauma. In addition to David’s and Annie’s traumatic experiences, the film
also indicates that Michael was adversely affected by his service in Vietnam.
Annie seems to take her ordeal unrealistically well, but note that the presence
of her new friends and her dog seems to provide outlets for
coping. Faced with the prospect of never fighting again, David channels
his frustrations into training the boys and making them stronger than he
was. Michael may have buried his trauma and embraced a secret lifestyle wherein
he can act out his aggression. In the near future, his
sons will be forced to confront trauma as well.

The boys commence a fairly unorthodox training regimen that
includes punching phonebooks, kneeling on beer bottles, mastering the tai chi
(bowling) ball, and chopping a watermelon. We see during these scenes that
Charlie is curious about his origins and frustrated that neither David nor Michael
gives him honest answers about the identity of his mother. In truth, Michael
killed her and was subsequently urged by his comrades
to raise the orphaned infant in penance. This questionably-advised act connects
both the best and worst aspects of Michael’s character. While Charlie seems to
have had a luxurious life under Michael, his stepfather probably never
thought much of the idea (note that the boys’ actual supervision is handled by an employee). By reaching a little, one may even suggest that Michael’s need to mask his feelings around Charlie may have indirectly
led him to robbery – an outlet for exercising his aggression.

After their training, Charlie and Tony feel empowered enough to
go on the counteroffensive. While David relocates Annie, the
brothers pursue Tank. They follow him to a
poor neighborhood where he lives with his blind mother (Pamela Maxton)
and best him in a fight. Afterwards, Tank tearfully confesses to his mother about his involvement in crime. He allies himself with Charlie and Tony when they promise to help
him break away from the gang, and his information leads them to form a more
cohesive plan: to bring the robbers into the open, they’ll need to hand over the pizza slice.

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Tank directs the brothers to Alan’s second locale: an oceanfront bar. It’s staffed
by three little people who attack Charlie and Tony. What ensues is an odd fight, but a genuine fight scene nonetheless. It’s played for laughs,
but I want to believe that this is a statement about the accessibility
of the martial arts. It’s a lesson that David should take to heart – that disability needn’t hinder one from being a fighter. Whatever the
case, the fight spurs Alan to chase the brothers up a mountain outside the bar,
and at the peak, he takes his turn to fight them. Prior to relinquishing the pizza,
the boys test out David’s moves with great success – preparing them for the
final confrontations.

TRIVIA: The mountaintop fight is a nod
to kung fu movies of the 70s. These were often low-budget productions filmed on
tight schedules, and mountaintops were ideal settings for battles: the bare
terrain allowed the filmmakers to bypass continuity between shots and film from
any angle.

With all pieces of the mold together, Michael’s gang gathers in the evening
to prepare for a morning retrieval mission. However, not only does Alan
witness Tank making a secret telephone call, but Michael offers an anonymous
tip to the police about the upcoming operation. When morning comes, the
reassembled keys are used to unlock the vault. To everyone’s outrage, the
police arrive in the middle of it. Alan blames Tank, and Michael is happy to shoot him. After
Michael commands his remaining gang to split up, Alan and Thunder discover that Michael has already taken the gold from the vault. As far as I can
figure, Michael visited the refinery in the night to steal it, and his
plan is to hide in a subarea of the refinery with Jenny while the rest
of his gang is arrested. It wasn’t his design to shoot Tank, but one less
witness probably suits him fine. His growing nonchalance to murder foreshadows
what’s to come.

Alan and Thunder evade the police, but are so angry that they take
the time to engage Tony and Charlie when they arrive on the scene. The boys manage to defeat them, but when they see David entering
the refinery, Charlie goes after his uncle while Tony remains behind to ensure
that Thunder is arrested (Alan attempts an escape but is also apprehended). Charlie
follows David into the bowels of the facility and is surprised to come upon him
arguing with his father. Having realized what’s going
on, David implores Michael to turn himself in. (It’s never revealed how David
puts the pieces together, but it’s possible that he recognized Michael’s fighting
style at the club. That would help explain his subsequent moving out of Michael’s
house.) Fearing that David plans to incriminate them, Jenny points a gun but is knocked out when Charlie intervenes. Michael – already on edge – snaps and strikes Charlie, accusing him of
betrayal. David finally reveals the truth about Charlie’s mother, and as the
boy is overcome by sorrow, we see the final moments of Michael trying
to maintain the façade. He’s clearly uncomfortable with having been compromised,
and for a few seconds, he says nothing. When he finally confirms the story, it’s clear that he’s held it in for a long time and is defiant about
the fact. What’s more, he promises to kill anyone who
attempts to stop him as he leaves.

However, Michael proves to be better than his word: as Charlie and David emerge
from the basement, he attacks them with construction vehicles. When this fails,
he engages Charlie hand-to-hand. It seems as
though Michael intends to rid himself of both another witness and an unwanted
responsibility at the same time. He has the upper hand, but when he attempts to
beat David to death, Charlie kicks into overdrive…and Michael’s butt. Before a
decisive victor can emerge, though, the police arrive and arrest Michael. Tony is heartbroken at the realization that his
father is a criminal and blames the arrest on Charlie. Like
Michael, Tony invents an instance of betrayal to justify his frustration.

The bond between the brothers is in peril when, sometime later, both appear at
the national tournament. Tony tears his way through
opponents en route to meeting Charlie in the final match. (Notice that while the previous tournament was governed by point-fighting stipulations, this one
is full-contact with the competitors wearing no headgear.) Charlie is apprehensive about fighting his brother, but
following a penalty for passivity and a stern talking-to from the referee
(played by the late Grandmaster Kenneth Penland), Charlie’s fire is ignited and
he strikes back – leading to the best action scene of the film. It’s not clear
what spurs him, but I’d venture that it’s Michael’s influence: he feels he’s
been wronged and is tired of holding back. However, he eventually drops his guard – perhaps making a conscious decision to stem his stepfather’s sway – and allows Tony to finish him. As he realizes what he’s done,
Tony falls to Charlie’s side in despair, but Charlie awakens. As the two celebrate their mutual victory, their bond is restored.

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The film leaves some questions unanswered. We can assume that Michael and his
gang will be imprisoned for a long time, but it’s never stated what’s to become
of the kids. It’s possible that the brothers will live with their uncle, but what
of Annie, who’s curiously absent from the final scenes? What of Tank’s blind
mother, who’s now seemingly living alone in a graffiti-covered house? We’re not
even aware of what becomes of Michael’s wealth. Will the boys go from having a
private gym and a pool to sleeping under newspapers like David was in the beginning?

Nevertheless, I’m pleased by the upbeat nature of the ending and of the film in
general. Though Breathing Fire has an
unfortunate tendency to be a little gratuitous with its violence, it’s still a predominantly
idealistic story that illustrates unlikely bonds between people. The scenes
between the four main heroes are comforting in their optimism. It’s something
of a coming-of-age tale, and fans of this particular subgenre – especially its 80s
incarnations – will probably enjoy it. What’s more, the fight scenes are pretty
darn good, with long takes filled with intricate exchanges. Everybody puts on a
good show, but the standout star is Jonathan Ke Quan, who graduates from his
quirky nostalgic roles in The Goonies
and the second Indiana Jones movie to a genuine kicking machine. Give me this guy over his more famous peers any
day.

I recommend this movie to fun-loving fu fans, but exercise care when purchasing
it on disc. Breathing Fire has
received so many releases under different distributors that I think it might
be in the public domain, and at least one of these – the Echo Bridge version –
features very muddy video quality. I recommend the Westlake Home Entertainment release
for a sharper picture and brighter colors.

image

Breathing
Fire
(1991)
Directed by Brandon Pender (second
unit director of Death Match),
Brandon De-Wilde, Lou Kennedy
Written by Tao-Liang Tan (Last Breath), Raymond Mahoney, Wayne Yee
Starring Jonathan Ke Quan, Eddie
Saavedra, Ed Neil (Mighty Morphin Power
Rangers
), Jerry Trimble (The Master)
Cool costars: Bolo Yeung (Bloodsport), Allen Tackett (They Still Call Me Bruce), T.J. Storm (Black Cobra). The tournaments feature
many brief cameos of accomplished martial artists, but the one I’d like to
highlight is the late Master William Holland, playing the muscular competitor
who tries to intimidate Charlie and Tony before the fights.
Title refers to: There’s only metaphorical fire being breathed here, when the Moore family allows rage to control their actions.
Potential triggers: Group violence, violence against women, domestic violence, child abuse
Copyright Golden Pacific and Art
Studios

Reviewnalysis: Kill ‘Em All (2013)

*SPOILERS AHEAD*

If I were a martial arts filmmaker, I think
I’d be Raimund Huber. I don’t know much about the guy, but having seen the
three films he’s directed, I think we share many values when it comes to
action. (We also have a tendency to film stuff that sounds a lot better in our
heads than it looks onscreen.) Foremost among his traits that I admire are his
willingness to try to create stars and the fact that none of his films
feature a lot of well-known performers. This probably doesn’t help his movies
at the video store, but it delights me to see new, overlooked, and
almost-forgotten performers take prominent roles in his productions. The cast
of Kill ‘Em All is predominantly a
collection of folks who have shown promise in a few movies and now gather to put on one heck of a show. It’s not as good of a movie as it could be
and definitely isn’t a film for all occasions, but I’m happy that it exists.

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The story commences in Thailand, where four assassins are plying their trade. Little do they know that they’re about to become the hunted
parties. A suicidal bomber (Johnny Messner) loses consciousness after taking a
sip of drugged tea. A boxer (Ice Chongko) is ambushed by a kidnapper posing as
a monk in a Buddhist temple. A martial artist (Tim Man) is taken by a
mysterious bodybuilder (Roongtawan Jindasing) after she kills his
girlfriend (Fer Thaniya). And a favorer of knives and guns (Ammara Siripong) is
drugged in her apartment by a giant (Eoin O’Brien). These killers – Gabriel,
Black Scorpion, The Kid, and Som – awaken alongside four other professional
assassins in a locked room, where they are addressed by a mysterious entity over
a speaker.

Does anybody notice the similarities to Saw
yet?

The male voice introduces the assassins to each other, describing their
backgrounds and informing them of their location. They’re in
the Killing Chamber – a place of urban legend, “where hitmen are taken to die.”
They’re told that only one of them will leave, and only after all others have
been killed in combat. One particularly aggressive assassin, Schmidt (Erik
Markus Schuetz), displays excitement at the idea and immediately picks a fight
with The Kid. Schmidt persists in brawling despite the voice’s command to stop,
and the group is rendered unconscious by gas pouring out of an
overhead pipe. When they reawaken, they find Schmidt sitting bloodied against a
wall; his throat has been cut. The voice issues the remaining assassins with an
ultimatum: obey all orders or suffer the same fate.

The tone of the movie has now been set. Whereas Huber’s previous film – Bangkok Adrenaline – was a comedic
adventure, Kill ‘Em All is going to
be a pessimistic thriller. We know next to nothing about the characters, but what we do know isn’t heartening. Those of us who have seen a lot of movies realize
that these characters probably won’t live long. Not unlike the
aforementioned Saw series, this is a film
where characters come to be disposed of. Luckily for the squeamish among us, this
is much more of an escapist vehicle than what I’m comparing it to, and to a
substantial degree, the story will bring out the best in a few of these
unlikely heroes.

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Seven numbered balls are rolled into the Chamber, and after everyone picks one
up, the voice commands those with the lowest numbers to do battle. The two
combatants are Som and a young fellow called Mickey (Rashid Phoenix). Mickey is
strongly hinted at having some kind of developmental disability, but repeat viewings make
me wonder whether this guy is for real. The voice merely describes him as not
knowing right from wrong, and while our knee-jerk reaction is to assume that
Mickey has Down syndrome or something similar, it seems more likely that he’s a
psychopath who’s adopted a specific mind game against his opponents. At any rate, he doesn’t
match the symptomology of any particular conditions I can think of. Whatever the
case, Mickey puts up a strong fight against Som, but she eventually
gains the upper hand and kills him with a strike to the heart. Her prize is
to enter the nicely-stocked “Weapon Chamber” and select a single weapon with
which to engage in future fights. She chooses a pair of three-foot pipes.

The assassins are then given a meal, during which The Kid accepts a conversation
from the eldest of the fighters, Carpenter (Joe Lewis). Even though they talk
about potentially killing each other, Carpenter comes across as fatherly, and
we see that a degree of camaraderie is possible between the characters.
Meanwhile, Gabriel approaches Som and suggests they team up. Som refuses, but
the importance of teamwork will be a theme throughout the film.

The next two combatants are chosen by the numbers on the backs of their lunch
boxes; it’s Gabriel and Loomis Cartier (Brahim Achabbakhe), a former Legionnaire
who betrayed his comrades. Gabriel’s street-fighting style wins out over
Cartier’s kickboxing, and in victory, he claims a short sword. The voice then bids
them all to sleep and ceases monitoring them for the night. The assassins call
a truce, but Black Scorpion has different plans. Breaking the truce,
he rises in the night and targets Carpenter, who he’d been kindling a feud with. Black Scorpion stabs
Carpenter’s sleeping bag with a piece of glass he discovered by the toilet, only to find that the old man anticipated him and
was hiding in the shadows. They fight, and Joe Lewis – a real-life karate
grandmaster – is utterly believable in staging a defensive match against an
armed opponent. When Carpenter is injured, Gabriel evens the odds by throwing
him his weapon, and Carpenter impales Black Scorpion with the
blade. As Carpenter honorably returns the weapon, Gabriel makes clear the
unlikelihood of any of them being allowed to leave the Chamber alive. He makes
a bid for the remaining assassins to help each other, but again, nobody
accepts.

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In the morning, the voice admonishes them for Black Scorpion’s death. He demands
the next match, for which the combatants are selected by the numbers on the
bottom of their sleeping bags. The Kid and Carpenter are matched against each
other, and it’s worth noting that unlike the last two times, the voice waits
until the numbers are announced before declaring who will fight – giving the
impression that he’s specifically punishing Carpenter. As the brawl commences,
it’s clear that the injured Carpenter is no match for his nimbler opponent, but
before The Kid is forced to finish him off, Som takes action. She attacks
Gabriel, and when he resists, she demands he keep fighting her despite the
voice’s objections. The gas is activated but, amazingly, doesn’t enter the
room. Why? While everyone was sleeping, Som used the ball she received for the
first challenge to plug the pipe. With no more means of controlling the assassins,
the door is unlocked and jumpsuit-clad thugs flood into the room to kill the
remaining fighters. The warriors strike back, killing the ninjas, but Carpenter
is fatally wounded in the process of saving The Kid. “Now we’re even” are his
final words, referring to The Kid’s decision to not kill him when he was down.

TRIVIA: Joe Lewis died of a brain tumor
approximately four months before the film’s release, at age 68. Lewis was a
pioneer of competitive martial arts in the U.S., being credited by his peers as
an originator of full-contact karate and having fought in the country’s first
official kickboxing match. He won five world and national championships in kickboxing,
another seven in karate, and is recognized by the STAR System Records service
as an undisputed world champion.

The owner of the mysterious voice – identified in the credits as Snakehead
(Gordon Liu) – watches as the three survivors wander through a maze-like complex called the “Psycho Sector.” He unleashes a seemingly endless gang of armed warriors, and despite being able to cut
through them, the assassins do not encounter an exit. In a moment of peace, The
Kid and Som enlighten Gabriel as to what is going on: they’re prisoners of
the Sharan Cabal – an organization that kills hitmen. Before they can
elaborate, an opportunity for escape presents itself, and to Gabriel’s chagrin,
his cohorts opt to remain behind. It’s clear that The Kid wants to avenge his
girlfriend (and, potentially, Carpenter), but Som’s motivation is a mystery. A
frustrated Gabriel makes a break for it, but even though he reaches the
roof, he chooses to return – just in time to save Som and The Kid. However,
Gabriel is fatally wounded in the process.

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Gabriel is an interesting character who represents the theme of
vulnerability in dangerous people. He’s depressed and suicidal, but this very
thing that Snakehead considers his weakness ends up being what gives the
assassins a chance for survival. In the Killing Chamber, Snakehead taunts
Gabriel about his suicide attempts and suggests they’re inspired by loneliness,
and as it happens, Gabriel spends most of his time trying to forge bonds
between the assassins. As the film goes on, this ceases being a mere tactic and
seems like something he intimately desires. He’s the most talkative character in
the movie, sometimes speaking just to keep his nerve up but otherwise trying to
coax conversation out of others. He’s a nice guy by the film’s standards,
giving The Kid a new nickname and referring to himself and the other survivors
as a team. He actively seeks their approval. Upon actually attaining his
freedom, he reenters the chamber because he has no desire for a life void of companionship. I really think his goal is to be pals with Som and The
Kid once they’re all out. Gabriel’s experiences provide gravity to a story so
preoccupied with killing that it’s easy to think there’s nothing else to it. Take note that the most long-lived assassins are those who eschew the solitary nature of their profession and embrace teamwork.

The Kid and Som press deeper into the complex, meeting and
defeating the bodybuilder and the giant who kidnapped them. These are fairly
brutal intergender fights, and as they conclude with The Kid beating his
girlfriend’s killer to a bloody pulp and Som smashing the giant’s head with
cinder blocks, I think that the filmmakers were trying to
create a gender-blind field of combat. It’s not entirely successful – earlier, Schmidt
indicates that he intends to rape Som – but while I can do without the extreme
violence, I appreciate the notion. The general dearth of B-movie actresses
known for their action scenes is doubtlessly influenced by filmmakers’
unwillingness to feature women in these roles, and I’m happy whenever that’s subverted. I’m not for the senseless beating of women in movies, but I do
consider gender an arbitrary reason to keep an able performer from shining in
fight flicks. Ammara Siripong and Roongtawan Jindasing definitely shine in this
one.

Som finally meets Snakehead – whose voice has seemingly been vocoded before now
– and drops an exposition bomb. She is here seeking revenge for her brother, a
fellow assassin who previously was the only one to escape the Killing Chamber.
She’d purposely strove to become one of the best killers, thereby attracting the
Cabal’s attention so she could be taken and have the opportunity for vengeance.
In turn, Snakehead reveals his masterplan: through the Killing Chamber, he seeks
to create a monopoly of assassins, controlled by his organization. They
commence fighting, with Snakehead mockingly wielding a tie worn by Som’s
brother. The Kid arrives to join the fight, and together, Som and he are slowly
able to wrest Snakehead out of his reserve and overpower him. Eventually, Snakehead
is killed by a double submission maneuver; with him dead, the Cabal will
presumably dissolve. Som reclaims the tie, shares a glance with The Kid,
and they move to leave the room. Abruptly, the film cuts to the end credits.

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I have to admit, the poorest aspect of Kill
‘Em All
is its story. The first half of the movie primes the viewer to
expect a significant conclusion – an enlightening “ohhh” moment to explain everything – but the eventual revelation probably isn’t any more impressive
onscreen than as I wrote it. Perhaps the filmmakers realized how impersonal of
a climax they had and for that reason shoehorned in the bit
about Som’s brother, which received no buildup at all. For all his grandiose
planning and penetrating insight, Snakehead is
nothing more than a greedy sadist. Also, I’m not sure how I feel about the
ending: I’m glad that Snakehead was stopped, but not only have Som and The Kid failed to forge a significant connection, but the world now has two more
deadly assassins back on the streets. Perhaps with her mission complete, Som
will stop trying to be the best killer she can be, and maybe The Kid will take
some time off to mourn, but neither character’s received much inclination to
quit their job.

The real triumph of the film is in its utilization of its cast. In many ways,
Raimund Huber really did a lot with this group. Ammara Siripong went from playing
a disabled mother in Chocolate four
years prior to an all-out action hero here. Gordon Liu’s unique voice –
pitched or not – makes him an excellent choice as a character that spends most
of the time off-screen. Johnny Messner perfectly conveys the intricacies of
his character and does well as the protagonists’ spokesperson. Most impressive,
though, is how well these performers are utilized in fight scenes.
Choreographer Tim Man deserves particular recognition for his work, as he
crafts very specific fighting styles based on the strengths of his costars.
This may have been easy enough for those with backgrounds in stunts and action,
but particularly Johnny Messner benefits from some resourceful blocking. Joe
Lewis was presumably recovering from brain surgery at the time of filming, but
looks mighty as ever. There are 14 full-length fight scenes in this movie, and
while not all of them are great, most are pretty good and I think none of them feature any doubling.

Kill ‘Em All isn’t the type of movie
you watch for intellectual stimulation or to feel particularly happy, but it is
one you watch to get adrenalized. Its purpose is to excite, and it triumphs.
It’s the type of movie that its stars will use to point to as proof of their
physical abilities, and I would be happy to see all of them cast again in
fighting roles. I recommend this one to all martial arts fans.

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Kill ‘Em All (2013)
Directed by
Raimund Huber
Written by Ken Miller
Starring Ammara Siripong, Tim Man (Ninja II: Shadow of a Tear), Johnny
Messner (Tears of the Sun), Gordon
Liu (The 36th Chamber of
Shaolin
)
Cool costars: Joe Lewis (Death Cage), Brahim Achabbakhe (Man of Tai Chi), Eoin O’Brien (Tekken: Kazuya’s Revenge), Roongtawan
Jindasing (Raging Phoenix), Erik
Markus Schuetz (Ong-Bak: The Thai Warrior),
Ice Chongko. Rashid Phoenix hasn’t had any other standout film roles, but he’s
a successful stuntman who’s won an ensemble award for his work on Game of Thrones.
Title refers to: A phrase uttered by Snakehead.
Potential triggers: Kidnapping, drugging, extreme violence, violence towards women
Copyright Epic Pictures Group, Inc.