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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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: 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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?

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: 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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 36^th 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.

Reviewnalysis: Belly of the Beast (2003)

*SPOILERS
AHEAD*

Steven Seagal’s residence in direct-to-video
fare is something of an economic coincidence. Seagal’s bankability was
always tied to what his movies earned on video, but eventually,
three events over a short period of time facilitated his slide into relative obscurity. These were: (1) the crash of the home video
market and his subsequent reduced profitability, (2) the Hong Kong revolution
in Hollywood which outdated his personal style of action, and (3) the events of
9/11 which temporarily made Hollywood sensitive to violence in the media and lowered the demand for action features. By
late 2002, Seagal was no longer a top-tier actor, but having been one of the
two biggest martial arts stars of the western hemisphere allowed him to settle comfortably
into the B-movie realm. Many fans lament Seagal’s state as DTV lord, but I’m pleased
with it. Working outside the mainstream has allowed him to interact with more
interesting and eclectic filmmakers than ever before, and of all his films,
none is more interesting, eclectic, or weirder than Belly of the Beast.

The movie opens in “Thailand, 1994,” where CIA agent Jake Hopper (Seagal) and
his partner Sunti (Byron Mann) are discussing business with two underworld
figures. Things aren’t going well: the gangsters’ armed thugs are closing
in on the meeting, and when Jake sees one of the villains go for a weapon, Sunti
and he have to shoot their way to freedom. They get separated, and in the heat of
things, Sunti mistakenly shoots a woman holding a child. A horrified Sunti is then
hit by one of the gunmen, but before the shooter can finish him off, Jake comes
to his rescue. As the opening credits leave Sunti lying on the ground, little does the audience realize that his journey will end up being more relevant than Jake’s.

Ten years later, Jake’s retired from the CIA and makes his living as a
professional thief. We’re treated to a pretty unique heist wherein he breaks
into a wealthy residence, cracks a safe’s security code, casually steals a bottle
of water from the fridge, and partakes in some gratuitous sliding across
the floor. The sliding is our first glance of the film’s stylistic flair,
courtesy of Hong Kong director Siu-Tung Ching (AKA Tony Ching) making his debut
in American features. Later, when Jake gives the stolen data disc to his old
Agency friend and buyer (Martin McDougall), he’s told that his daughter Jessica
(Sara Malakul Lane) has been kidnapped while vacationing in Thailand.
She and her friend Sarah (Elidh MacQueen) – the daughter of a U.S. senator – are
apparently being held by the Abu Karaf militant group, who demand the release
of prisoners in U.S. custody. Not trusting the government to save his daughter,
Hopper heads to Thailand himself.

He isn’t in Thailand for but a few minutes before an attempt is made on his
life. We don’t know how the villains anticipated his arrival, but we see that
they’re no match for him, as he demolishes his attackers in the middle of a
market. We also don’t know the identity of the creepy old man who
watches Hopper from a distance, but the sight of him terrifies the one
remaining assailant so much that he flees and accidentally fillets himself on a
meat cleaver. As the stranger disappears, Jake probably realizes how vulnerable
he is on his own, and will soon move to change that.

The market brawl is another demonstration of director Ching’s influence. Simply, it’s a grand departure from Seagal’s typical fight scenes.
Whereas Seagal’s characters usually dispatch opponents with throws and
bone-breaking maneuvers, Jake Hopper employs kung fu of the showiest variety,
complete with pose-striking and spin kicks. However, it’s clearly not
actually Seagal performing the more athletic moves, but a double (Dian Hristov). Seagal’s
reliance on a stunt double in this and many other DTV movies has led to
criticism from viewers who call his ability and commitment into question.
While the doubling can be jarring, I’m personally impressed by the presentation and how it spices up Seagal’s repertoire. Hong Kong choreographers
have worked on his movies before, but Belly
of the Beast is the only one of his films to feature full-blown Hong
Kong-style fight scenes.

TRIVA: Siu-Tung Ching opted to shoot as
much of the action as possible without Seagal’s involvement, bringing his star
onto the set only to film specific shots. Trouble arose when Seagal wanted to
shoot his performance in ways that wouldn’t correspond with the existing
footage, and eventually Ching and his stunt crew left the set until
producers assured them that Seagal would cooperate.

After checking into a hotel, Jake visits a go-go club to meet up with his
friend Fitch McQuoid (Vincent Riotta), who he hopes will be able to give him
information. In the process, he rescues one of the club’s
employees – Lulu (Monica Lo) – from a group of men out to rape
her. Jake doesn’t acquire any useful information, but he gains Lulu as a
shadow. Their relationship ends up being…interesting at best and disconcerting
at worst. I’ll get into it later, but for now, Jake is too preoccupied to accept
the woman’s offer for dinner. After a sleepless night, he takes a boat ride to
a Buddhist monastery where he finds his old partner Sunti living the life of a
monk. Jake’s there to receive the blessing of the abbot, but tells Sunti why
he’s in Thailand. He says that he wants Sunti to stay where he is
and continue tending to his psychological wounds, but doesn’t seem particularly
surprised when Sunti shows up at his hotel soon after, back in civilian clothes
and pledging to help him rescue Jessica.

In the book Seagalogy: A Study of the
Ass-Kicking Films of Steven Seagal, the film critic Vern notes Jake’s
manipulative behavior: regardless what he says, it’s unlikely that Jake didn’t
foresee his faithful ex-partner dropping everything to come to his aide. This
is one of a few actions on the character’s behalf that unintentionally make him
unlikable. In a world where mysticism and spirituality are more than concepts, Sunti risks both physical and spiritual well-being for a partner
who’s not even upfront about recruiting him. Make no mistake, Sunti is an
extremely useful partner – finding Jake important information and holding his
own in fights – but the level of devotion between the characters is rather
one-sided.

Following some intrigue wherein Fitch is revealed to have been giving Jake
false information, Jake and Sunti follow a lead to an abandoned train yard
where a shady deal is taking place between the Abu Karaf and some unknown forces
represented by a mysterious woman. When Jake spots a sniper preparing to take
out Mongkol (Pongpat Wachirabunjong) – the Abu Karaf leader, who he needs alive
for information – he initiates an enormous shootout, but not before a quick
exchange with Sunti. This is probably Jake’s best character moment: he warns
Sunti of the maelstrom they’re about to unleash, but also indicates that
this is his last chance to back out. Sunti doesn’t, but it’s a rare acknowledgement
by Jake of the sacrifice that Sunti is making.

The police arrive and Jake is arrested, but even though he’s sprung from jail, his
time away allows a mysterious figure to enter his hotel room and steal one of
his shirts. What’s more, Lulu returns to her home to find her roommate murdered
– presumably by the same mysterious forces at the train yard, which Jake is
growing more convinced are the actual kidnappers. Lulu
takes refuge with Jake, and they have sex. It’s an awkward scene, with Jake coming across as cold and distant. The relationship between
these two seems fairly unhealthy, with Lulu repeatedly trying to appease a man
who seems annoyed by her presence. Lulu herself seems obsessive – trying to
follow Jake on outings and entering his hotel room while he’s away to bring him
food he didn’t ask for. (How did she get in, with the door locked and the window on the second story??) While others have accused Seagal of vanity for
frequently having onscreen girlfriends much younger than him (i.e. there’s a 25-year
age difference between the performers), I’m merely troubled by the film’s
portrayal of Jake as a man worth pursuing.

Eventually, Jake is granted a meeting with the man whose life he saved earlier and is vindicated in his belief that the Abu Karaf are innocent of
kidnapping. Mongkol reveals to him the identity of the mysterious woman – Lena –
and her connection to the deceitful McQuoid. Jake and Sunti return to Fitch’s
club, where Lena is lying in wait. Armed with a whip and razor-sharp nails,
Lena – revealed as a transwoman – fights and loses to Jake, who subsequently puts
together the masterplan before killing McQuoid in self-defense. It essentially
amounts to a rebel military faction having kidnapped the senator’s daughter and
framing the Abu Karaf – encouraging the U.S. to attack them and thereby
eliminating the rebels’ competition in drug distribution. Our heroes now know
where to go: to rescue the girls, they will need to storm the home of the rebel
leader – General Jantapan (Tom Wu).

At this point, this becomes a supernatural story. While Jake and Sunti return to
the monastery for a final blessing, Jantapan facilitates dark magic. He’s the
one who stole Jake’s shirt from the hotel, and has delivered it to the
mysterious old man from the market. This fellow is not only a demon-worshipping
mystic, but an actual wizard who creates an effigy of Jake from the shirt. As the heroes infiltrate Jantapan’s domain, Jake meets the general in combat
but is increasingly disabled by the wizard abusing the doll. Things seem
bleak until the effigy explodes in his hand, and as the camera zooms out
of the arachnid-infested temple, we see the entire Buddhist monastery praying and
chanting like mad. The wizard tries to rally, but eventually he’s overpowered by the supernatural forces and collapses. At the
same time, Jake overcomes Jantapan – defeating him with a blow that sends him
flying across the room. It’s been an exhilarating fight entirely in director
Ching’s style, featuring an absurdly cool instance wherein Jake bisects a flying arrow with a sword.

TRIVIA: Tom Wu is award-winning martial
artist, having medaled in international wushu tournaments.
Though Steven Seagal and Byron Mann are also martial artists, Wu is the only
one among the starring cast to have been active in competition.

During all of this, Sunti has been protecting the girls and
singlehandedly taking on an entire platoon of Jantapan’s men in a firefight.
Though both Jake and he are victorious, Sunti
collapses in Jake’s arms, his body riddled with bullet holes. As the movie
draws to a close, its final scene is of Sunti’s funeral, wherein Jake wades
into the river to distribute his ashes.

While it’s tempting to think of Sunti’s rescuing the girls as his redemption,
it’s his manner of death that symbolizes atonement.
Buddhism – the religion of Sunti and the real-life Steven Seagal – does not
seem to include the concept of divine forgiveness seen in Abrahamic systems,
and Sunti’s decision to help Jake is an attempt at personally compensating for his
misdeeds. Sunti kills several people prior to the finale –
something he’s visibly distressed by – so I think that being struck
by so many bullets is his form of penitence. An act of
masochism, if you will, to assuage the guilt that he’s carried for so long.
Every bullet that he’s used to kill people, he tries to take back. It’s a
depressing thought, and as the film concludes, one can’t help but hope that
Sunti has better luck finding enlightenment in his next life.

Belly of the Beast is one of Seagal’s
most colorful and exciting movies. Disappointingly,
it’s also one of the most convoluted. I have tried to relate the story coherently,
but I’ve needed to gloss over and omit several characters, events, and details
to do so. According to Joe Halpin – a regular writer of Seagal’s post-theatrical
films – the stories of these films remain in an amorphous state throughout
production, with bits and pieces being added and removed and significant sections being lost in editing. Belly of the Beast isn’t hopelessly bad in this regard, as you can
still make general sense of events, but I’ve watched it many times and still don’t understand all of it. I’m also at a loss why the credits don’t list
at least three of the most important characters: the abbot, the evil wizard,
and Lena.

Speaking of Lena, her inclusion is surprising. It’s unheard of to
find a female character in Seagal’s films who can legitimately fight, and trans
characters have been absent altogether. Thailand is known for its transgender community, and with trans characters frequently appearing in Thai films, this
may just be a unique way of representing them as part of the environment. Disappointingly, Lena
isn’t that great of a character: while she does have a pretty good fight, she’s
a one-dimensional villain who is amused by violence and tortures a man to death
– in other words, she’s not a very flattering representative of her demographic.
Jake’s daughter Jessica is less exotic, though I’m pleased that she’s not strictly treated as a damsel: she remains reasonably calm throughout her
incarceration, mounts an escape attempt, and kills a guard with his own knife
when he attempts to rape her friend.

It’s also worth noting the story’s political twist. The Abu Karaf is an
Islamic militant group, but they’re innocent of the crime General Jantapan tries
to pin on them. Jantapan successfully diverts attention from his own activities by playing to America’s post-9/11 suspicions…and it’s not terribly unrealistic. It’s not
sufficiently explained how Jake figures out the truth, but having
this as part of the story feels like a warning against political tunnel vision
and the tendency to blame all terrorism on Islamic influences.

Despite the production’s shortcomings, Belly
of the Beast was a breath of fresh air for Seagal’s career when it was
released and can still be regarded as such. In the midst of many gloomy
vehicles shot in Eastern Europe, this one is more colorful and bombastic
than anything else Seagal’s starred in. Siu-Tung Ching is one of the most acclaimed
directors the star has ever worked under, and his lavishes exalt the film and
make me wish he’d helmed more American pictures. While I’m usually not a fan
of fight scenes incorporating a lot of wirework, I like seeing action stars
stepping out of their comfort zone, and in this regard, the fights are
exciting. I can’t see myself recommending the movie to people who don’t like
Seagal to begin with or viewers who hold Tony Ching to a higher standard, but
as far as exotic B-movies go, this is worth seeing.

TRIVIA: Production designer Trevor
Murray was found dead in his Bangkok apartment while the film was being shot, having
died of natural causes. Murray was a veteran of filmmaking and a jack of all
artistic trades, with previous credits in art direction, model-making, set
decoration, and puppetry. Belly of the
Beast is dedicated to his memory.

Belly of the Beast (2003)
Directed by Siu-Tung Ching (The Sorcerer and the White Snake)
Written by James Townsend (Undisputed 2: Last Man Standing), Thomas
Fenton (uncredited), Steven Seagal (uncredited)
Starring Steven Seagal (Above the Law), Byron Mann (The Man with the Iron Fists), Monica Lo
(Legacy), Tom Wu (Marco Polo)
Cool costars: Sara Malakul Lane has
since become a B-movie star and appears in the cult classic Sharktopus. Kevork Malikyan – best known as Kazim from the third Indiana Jones movie – plays a doomed businessman killed by Lena. Don Ferguson and Erik Markus
Schuetz, who regularly appear in Thai movies as combatants, play uncredited bodyguards.
Title refers to: Possibly the dangerous mission undertaken by Jake and Sunti.
Potential triggers: Kidnapping, attempted rape, violence towards women, sexist dialogue
Copyright GFT Beast Films Inc.,
Studio Eight Beast Limited, Century Time (H.K.) Ltd.

Reviewnalysis: Ring of Fire (1991)

*SPOILERS
AHEAD*

When I initially began exploring the martial arts film stars of the western
hemisphere, one of the first ones I investigated was Don “The Dragon” Wilson.
Though I knew that few performers approached fight flicks with the level of
credibility that Wilson did, I admit that I wasn’t very appreciative of
what he brought to the table and let my dislike of his fight scenes cloud many
earlier reviews. Nevertheless, there was something about the guy that kept me
buying his movies even though I’d end up trashing them online. Now, with
approximately eight years of reviewing behind me, I realize that I’ve been
harsh. I believe I’ve learned a significant lesson about the importance
of personality in B-movies and the significance of Wilson’s film
career. This won’t be a retrospective of everything he’s done, but in this
review, I’ll highlight some of the features that have contributed to his
status as one of the more unique stars of the low-budget realm.

TRIVIA: Wilson made his name in the
martial arts world as an international kickboxer. Over a 20-year career, Wilson
won 11 world championships – as well as three championships in state, national,
and continental divisions – and amassed a record of 72 wins, five losses, and
two draws.

Ring of Fire is Don Wilson’s third
starring vehicle and his first movie that premiered on video. It was
produced by the PM Entertainment Group, a studio specializing in action films which contributed greatly to the golden era of home video. PM had a knack for
producing screenplays that paid more attention to drama than typical
direct-to-video schlock, and Ring of Fire
is a good example of this. It’s essentially a Los Angeles-set retelling of Romeo and Juliet with a martial arts
backdrop, and explores themes of racism, interracial relationships, and machismo.

The film begins in a small arena where two gangs
cheer on their representatives in a no-holds-barred match. The foundation of the story is the conflict between these groups – the Asian
Gang and the Surfer Gang – and it’s worth pointing out what a unique conflict
it is. The Asians and the Surfers take no part in typical gang-related crime,
and seemingly exist only to do battle with each other. They’re not inspired by
money or territory, but solely by racial tension. The Surfers are led
by the increasingly unstable Brad (Dale Jacoby), whose hatred of his Chinese
neighbors seems to stem from his father’s death in Vietnam. The opposing gang
is headed by Terry Woo (Steven Vincent Leigh), the son of an immigrant
restauranteur, who is so tired of prejudice that he’s decided to fight fire
with fire. There’s no shortage of animosity between the two groups, but both seem
to agree that the best means of expressing their hatred is not through
drive-byes but hand-to-hand combat.

Martial arts fans will quickly realize a stylistic difference between the gangs
during the opening matches: Terry’s gang clearly comes from a kung fu
background while the Surfers seem to favor kickboxing and karate. As a matter
of fact, the very first fight features Terry wearing a traditional sash
while his opponent (Stan Longinidis) wears trunks emblazoned with the words
“KICK BOXING.” The theme of inter-discipline competition goes back to Hong Kong
wuxia pictures, and criticism of the “fancy” Chinese styles by “hard” stylists
had been an issue in U.S. martial arts communities for decades. In the movie,
the difference underscores the conflict between the two factions.

Trivia: Wilson – a student of pai lum tao – began competing in kickboxing to counter the widespread prejudice that kung fu practitioners couldn’t actually fight.

The only person at the arena who’s opposed to what’s going on is Julie (Maria
Ford), Brad’s sister and fiancée of his friend Chuck (Vince Murdocco). Julie is
repulsed by fighting and refuses to watch, fearing that somebody will get
hurt. Her fears are vindicated when one of Terry’s friends (Ron Yuan) is hospitalized after a vicious beating. His attending physician is Terry’s cousin,
Jonny Woo (Don Wilson) – a legendary fighter who nevertheless rebuffs Terry’s
request to fight on his behalf. While Jonny seems to consider
Terry’s activities so inevitable as to never outright discourage them, he is so
against the idea of involving himself that it seems to create an inexplicable
bond between Julie and him when they meet shortly thereafter. Julie visits the
restaurant of Terry’s mother (Jane Chung) and mistakes Jonny for a waiter. He
takes it in stride and there’s an instant attraction between them, which seems to symbolize their mutual rejection of racial
prejudice.

The two engage in a genuinely romantic courtship after Jonny – dressed as the
Phantom of the Opera – crashes a masquerade party to dance with Julie. She goes
out with him despite being engaged, but it’s important to note that Chuck is
making himself increasingly irredeemable by succumbing to Brad’s influence.
Chuck is never seen displaying quite the level of racism of his pal, but his
time is continually monopolized by Brad and he seems completely oblivious
why this repels his fiancée. Julie makes a few efforts to maintain their relationship,
but Chuck’s preoccupation seems to justify her doubts about marriage.

Tensions between the gangs rise when Kwong (Eric Lee) – Terry’s resident
goofball and possible kung fu instructor – is badly beaten outside of the ring and
Terry retaliates at the expense of one of the culprits (Gary Daniels).
This leads to the film’s biggest combat scene – a massive gang brawl – but when the battle is dispersed by the police, the factions
agree to settle their differences via a one-on-one match between Brad and
Terry. While the two of them train in their own unique ways – Brad focusing on
technique and precision while Terry builds strength and endurance –
the relationship between Maria and Jonny grows to the point that Maria breaks
up with Chuck. Feeling scorned and sensing Jonny’s involvement,
Chuck tells Julie about the upcoming fight and indicates that Brad intends to
seriously injure Terry. Later, Jonny approaches Terry and asks him not to fight,
revealing that he’s in love with his opponent’s sister. Terry is moved but
argues that he can’t back out of the fight without losing face. Unwittingly
setting the stage for disaster, Jonny suggests that Terry demand that they fight “Thai style,” with their knuckles covered in glue and broken
glass. He’s certain that Brad will back down rather than compete like this,
and Terry agrees. However, both have underestimated Brad’s casual attitude towards
violence, and when the gangs meet at night for the showdown, Brad readily
accepts the challenge.

TRIVIA: There is much dispute whether fighting
with broken glass was ever a genuine practice among Thai boxers. In the book Comprehensive Asian Fighting Arts, Donn
F. Draeger and Robert W. Smith hypothesize that this particular practice occurred only in wartime, and many other sources claim that it was
an uncommon event at best.

What follows is a montage wherein shots of the fighters gearing up are
interspersed with shots of Jonny and Julie getting intimate. It’s an example of one of the most persistent and
controversial B-movie tropes: the mingling of sensuality with violence. Nevertheless,
it’s interesting that despite the film’s license to exploit, both the sexy shots
of this scene and the nature of the romance are remarkably
wholesome by low-budget standards. Wilson’s character is utterly decent and the
buildup to sex is very well-paced. Rather than actually depicting the act,
all this scene shows is the characters slowly disrobing each other. Against
all expectations, the film depicts the undressing of one’s partner as a pinnacle
of sensuality. Much of this modesty may be thanks to Wilson, who – in addition to
cultivating wholesome onscreen personas – seems concerned about how women are
treated in his films. In the future, Wilson would personally minimize violence
against female characters in at least one screenplay, and in doing so seems to challenge
the general perception of women in B-movies. To this end, Maria Ford – regularly
typecast in sexual roles – can direct her efforts to her dramatic performance
rather than titillation.

[UPDATE 8/4/18: For his review in Videohound’s Video Premiers, Mike Mayo alludes to “one of the hottest love scenes you’ll ever see on video” taking place in this movie. Unless Mayo is especially titillated by chasteness, I’ve reason to think that what I’ve described above may reflect an edited version of the original film. Whatever the case, my review is based on the Reel Entertainment Digital (RED) release, and it’s possible that a different version has been released by another distributor.]

Their tranquility is shattered when Julie realizes Jonny’s plan
and assures him that her brother is indeed capable of killing. They rush to the
combat zone – literally a ring of fire, created with gasoline –
only to find Terry near death from a massive neck wound. Brad is so driven that
he attacks Jonny as he tries to attend to his cousin, but he and the others flee at the arrival of the police. Later, Brad has become so so unhinged that he leads
the gang to crash Terry’s funeral, seeking to collect Julie after she defied
him by attending. Julie seems to feel some responsibility for Terry’s death,
and her guilt is augmented by indirectly causing this disruption. The cold stares she receives from the other funeral attendees certainly don’t help, and she
attempts to stem future harm by breaking up with Jonny and leaving with Brad’s
gang.

A heroic intervention by Julie’s grandmother (Shirley Spiegler Jacobs) brings
the two back together, after Jonny publicly makes a bid for Julie’s heart in
the middle of her aerobics class. The Surfer Gang inexplicably turns up to challenge
Jonny, and Brad strikes Julie after she pleads with him to stay out of their
relationship. This finally pushes Jonny beyond his limit, and he meets Brad in
the arena. Julie is present as well, perhaps agreeing to watch because she
cares more for Jonny than she did for Chuck, and witnesses her boyfriend being
true to his legend. Jonny handily overwhelms Brad and even rallies after Chuck
interferes. Frustrated, Brad grabs a
katana he had been training with earlier and charges Jonny. Oddly, the only person who
rushes to Jonny’s defense is Julie, but while Jonny is able to avoid Brad’s
attack, Julie is slashed across the torso. The brawl immediately comes to an
end and animosities turn to concern over the injured Julie. As Jonny carries her
from the ring, the melancholy soundtrack makes us fear for Julie’s life, but
within the final seconds before the credits, she raises her head to look into
Jonny’s eyes. We’re to believe that Julie survives, and the film’s sequel – Ring of Fire II: Blood and Steel –
assures us that this is indeed the case.

The ending is abrupt and leaves core issues of the film
unresolved, but in its most drastic departure from the Romeo and Juliet template, I appreciate how it concludes the feature
with a tinge of hope. If Julie can live, perhaps the gangs can resolve their
conflict.

Racism sparked the gangs’ conflict, but machismo is what drives it. I can’t
come up with a better explanation why two gangs who hate each other would cooperate to the extent of securing a boxing ring to
exercise their grievances. Fight culture and the history of feuds between
professional fighters seem to influence their thinking, and the concept of
honor definitely plays a part, but these things don’t fully explain the absurdity
of the setups and thus convince me that the characters are bound by masculine ideals. While machismo provides the benefit of the
gang members eschewing guns (after all, anybody can pull a trigger),
it ultimately makes mutual problem-solving
impossible. It may even be viewed as an infectious condition: in addition to Chuck’s
increasing fascination with Brad’s violent world, Jonny spends the entire movie vowing not to fight – even when his cousin is killed – but when Brad strikes
Julie, he forgoes all rationality by agreeing to a fight in
front of spectators. The demands of masculinity turn fiancées into
villains and healers into participants of bloody rituals.

Speaking of blood, the film’s fight content is an interesting study. The unique
collection of performers promises spectacular results, but the fights are a
mixed set. An ugly trend of editing fight scenes at the time was to cut shots
right before a performer landed a strike and switching to a different shot for
the impact. Ring of Fire does this a lot, though curiously only for its
ring-based matches: the street fights feature longer shots with follow-through.
Don Wilson only has a single genuine fight – the finale – and I’m sorry to say
that it seems to cue an increase in such icky editing. It’s a style that’s present
throughout Wilson’s movies, and it really played against my opinion of the guy
when all I was interested in was the quality of fight scenes. While I’m still
not a big fan, I’ve since
learned that this style may be the result of noble intentions. Wilson claims to
go out of his way not to make contact with his onscreen opponents, and this is
probably reflected in the editing tricks. It doesn’t do much for the
presentation, but after hearing stories of how Steven Seagal and Jean-Claude Van
Damme have hurt costars while shooting fights, it’s easier to give Don credit
for being a human being.

TRIVIA: In the late 1980s, after Wilson
publicly disputed Jean-Claude Van Damme’s claim of having been a world kickboxing
champion, producer Roger Corman hyped a proposed fight between the two and
offered Van Damme $100,000 if he could defeat Wilson. Van Damme turned the
fight down, reasoning that he made much more money through acting (see Black Belt
Magazine, Nov. 1989).

Nevertheless, I mainly have a good impression of Ring of Fire. The filmmakers get absolutely everything they can out
of their production without giving the impression of scraping bottom. It’s a
flamboyant movie filled with nice cinematography of Venice Beach and Los
Angels’ Chinatown, not to mention an eyeful of early 90s fashion. The dramatic performances
are really out there and bombastic, though solidly anchored by Don Wilson’s
likable presence and Maria Ford’s pure talent. Despite its representation of
real-life problems and a smattering of racist language, it’s not a hardline
picture and I largely consider it harmless for adult viewers who know what
they’re getting into. General martial arts fans ought to consider it, and Don
Wilson fans will definitely want to own this one.

Ring
of Fire (1991)
Directed by Richard W. Munchkin (Dance or Die), Rick Jacobson (Bitch Slap)
Written by Jake Jacobs, Richard W.
Munchkin, Steve Tymon (Death Match)
Starring Don Wilson, Maria Ford (Angel of Destruction), Steven Vincent Leigh (Deadly Bet), Dale Jacoby (No Retreat, No Surrender)
Cool costars: Vince Murdocco (Kickboxer 2: The Road Back), Eric Lee (Weapons of Death), Ron Yuan (White Tiger), Gary Daniels (Bloodmoon). The gang brawl features too
many cool people to count, but some of my favorites include Jon Agro, Art
Camacho, Harold Hazeldine, and Rod Kei. Stan Longinidis is
Terry Woo’s first opponent and an 8-time world kickboxing champion. Also, IMDb.com credits Michael Jai White (Black Dynamite) as being
in this movie, but I’ve never seen him.
Title refers to: The literal fighting space created for the Terry-Brad showdown.
Content warning: Racist dialogue, violence against women, group violence
Copyright PM Entertainment Group
Inc. / Reel Entertainment Digital

Reviewnalysis: China O’Brien (1990)

*SPOILERS AHEAD*

Sometime in the early 80s, Hong Kong
producer Ng See-Yuen examined the West Coast Demonstration Team in search of the “new” Bruce Lee. He had set out looking for a male
performer, but ended up signing the group’s lone woman, who ironically hadn’t
even been invited to the tryouts. This was the first step on the road to superstardom
for Cynthia Rothrock, a martial arts master already earning the highest acclaim
on the competitive circuit. It’s apt that See-Yuen’s search was fashioned as a hunt for Bruce Lee’s successor,
as Rothrock’s career would share some significant parallels with Lee’s: both
were groundbreaking martial artists who established themselves as action stars in
Hong Kong before gaining greater fame via an American film directed by Robert
Clouse. Where Lee had Enter the Dragon,
Rothrock has China O’Brien.

Trivia: Rothrock’s claim to fame is
having been world champion in forms & weapons competition for five
consecutive years (1981-85). What’s impressive about this is that Rothrock’s titles do not amount to five
awards from a single organization, but rather reflect her cumulative successes. Rothrock’s
accomplishments were tallied by publications like Inside Kung Fu magazine, and for five years, she
amassed more wins than all other competitors. In other words, Cynthia Rothrock
won more tournaments than anyone else in the world for half a decade.

China O’Brien was produced by the
Golden Harvest Company – technically making it a collaborative project between
the U.S. and Hong Kong – but unlike Rothrock’s other projects of the same
description, China O’Brien has a
distinctly American texture to it. It’s clearly a take on Walking Tall, but more importantly, its story structure and screenplay
are simpler than its star’s previous films. The plot’s cultural norms
are clearly western, and while this may disappoint fans who particularly
enjoyed the extralocal flavor of Rothrock’s earlier fare, China O’Brien feels more accessible and less of an
acquired taste. Newcomers to her movies, especially those who’ve never seen a
Hong Kong movie before, would be wise to choose this for their first
impression.

The film begins with urban police officer China O’Brien (Rothrock) teaching martial
arts to a class of adult students. Rothrock’s a tough instructor in
real life, and hardly seems to be acting as she drills her pupils. One of these
students – the oddly-named Termite (Doug Wright) – doesn’t take well to her
authority, and the two get into a confrontation wherein he disputes her
toughness and successfully challenges her to a nighttime showdown against
“five guys, hand to hand.” Sometime later, Termite is accosted by some thugs of
ambiguous origin, and by the time China shows up, the challenge has become a life-and-death
situation. China so impressively outclasses her attackers that she doesn’t even
realize something’s up until being alerted by her co-instructor (played by the
kenpo-practicing sculptor Nijel Binns). At the fight’s zenith, she saves
Termite’s life by shooting a shadowy figure pointing a gun at his head. To her
horror, the slain gunman is a teenager, and she subsequently quits the police
force out of guilt, turning in her badge and the offending gun.

These opening scenes tell us a few important things about China and the other
characters. Foremost, China is not just a skilled fighter but an
honest-to-goodness master of her craft – so good that she can explain the
techniques she’s using against her attackers even as they’re coming at her.
While she also seems to be a good markswoman, the only time she kills a person
is after drawing a firearm – an act which moves her to declare she’ll never
touch a gun again. In this film, the martial arts symbolize self-mastery while firearms are a symbol of chaotic destruction:
China can determine how thoroughly she’ll incapacitate an opponent, but she can’t
control the gun’s lethality. Most importantly, while China’s cohorts are
convinced of her abilities, her predominantly male opponents underestimate her. It’s an examination of what men expect women to be capable
of in confrontational situations, and as the film progresses, this will be
examined in more than just combat scenarios.

After retiring from the police force, China heads to her small-town home in
pursuit of a simpler life. We see a contemplative scene of her driving through
the country while a song called “Distant Storm” plays, sung by a pre-superstar Tori
Amos, with lyrics foretelling that China’s trials aren’t over yet. She rolls
into the idyllic municipality, looking for her father the sheriff (David
Blackwell), but quickly realizes that things aren’t right. Unsavory folks have flooded
the town, including a creepy deputy manning the sheriff’s office (Patrick
Adamson), the lecherous goons at the Beaver Creek Inn, and a bought judge (Will
C. Hazlett) clearing violent thugs from prison terms. She can’t have been in
town for more than a little while before she has to defend herself against five attackers
at the bar, and then witnesses firsthand how her father and his good deputy (Chad
Walker) are powerless to stem the tide of corruption – they can’t even
fingerprint a suspect before a lawyer shows up to spring him. The source
of this corruption – drug lord Edwin Sommers (Steven Kerby) – calls shots at a
sleazy poker game and gets his thrills by torturing a woman tied to a bed at
his ranch.

After the crooked deputy overhears them planning to bring in the FBI for help,
the sheriff and his trustworthy deputy are killed by car bombs. China is
devastated, but with the town about to be taken over via an emergency
election to replace the sheriff, she channels her fury into running for the
position herself. The town is supportive – amazingly so, with its people
organizing a full parade in support of her. The embracing of China as the town’s
symbol of hope is refreshing and continues the theme of China’s allies being
able to positively gauge her strengths while her opponents underestimate her.
She gives an adrenalizing speech wherein she calls out the corrupt judge to his
face, and later engages in a public brawl against some rally-rushers, but
there’s no scene wherein the townsfolk skeptically demand proof of her ability.
They know her and know that she can do it, while the villains foolishly think
that a few more displays of force will cow her.

Trivia: The abovementioned parade is as
authentic as it gets. It was an actual event taking place close to the filming
location, and the filmmakers incorporated it
into the story by slipping in some of the actors. Rothrock appears in a horse-drawn carriage while supporters
carry signs reading “CHINA O’BRIEN FOR SHERIFF” and “VOTE CHINA.” Apparently
this was so convincing that the local news and radio stations – not having been
alerted to what was going on – reported China’s run for sheriff as fact.

China’s most important supporters end up being a couple of other martial
artists: longtime admirer and ex-Special Forces fellow Matt Conroy, and a
mysterious Native American biker called Dakota. Matt and Dakota are played by Hong Kong veteran Richard Norton and superkicker Keith Cooke; alongside
Rothrock, they compose an excellent trio and create some stellar fight
scenes. Dakota is a drifter whose left hand was disabled by Sommers’ thugs and
whose mother was killed after being pressed into prostitution; I’d argue that
the filmmakers try to make him the more interesting character, but Matt intrigues
me more by being such an anomaly. Matt is an enthusiastic
supporter of China’s, but were this a different movie, his character would probably
be the star. It’s almost weird to think that cool, righteous Matt waited
until China came along to take action against the villains…but then again, films
have conditioned us so that we wouldn’t have questioned it if China were
the one waiting around for Matt to initiate things. The performers play it so
naturally that you don’t even think about it, but this is in fact a blatant
subversion of action movie norms. Cynthia Rothrock’s prowess for playing leaders actually makes movies wherein she plays supporting characters – i.e. Martial Law, Tiger Claws – a little awkward by comparison.

After China and Matt forcefully stop an attempted vote-tampering, China wins the election but must immediately contend with an
assassination attempt. She responds by deputizing her partners and a bunch of
Matt’s high school students, then shutting down Sommers’ operations. This leads to a massive fight at the Beaver Creek Inn wherein Dakota
crushes the keeper with his motorcycle. After confirming that his mother was
killed by Sommers, Dakota rides out to the ranch for vengeance, bringing
along a rifle (thereby indicating his loss of emotional control). China and
Matt follow, fearing that he’s about to commit a murder, but arrive to find
that Dakota has chosen not to kill Sommers. Sommers is handcuffed and Dakota symbolically leaves the rifle behind.

As the trio lead Sommers outside, the woman he had tortured earlier shoots him
from a window – a decision that I consider less satisfying than him standing
trial and seeing his crimes publicly exposed. Nevertheless, the movie then ends
on a positive note, with China and Matt inviting Dakota to remain in town as a
deputy. To my dismay, a riffy guitar tune plays over the end credits and we
don’t get to hear “Distant Storm” a second time.

The release of China O’Brien may have
marked a gradual change in media trends regarding female representation in
action films. While women were starring in action movies every so often, backlash
to progressive strides in the media was in full force during the decade prior
to Rothrock’s vehicle (i.e. the Reagan years), and even before then, America hadn’t
had an actress who regularly headlined fight flicks. While the low-budget realm
isn’t as subject to societal cues as mainstream Hollywood, it does tend to
follow the industry leaders, and in this regard, China O’Brien broke the mold. Much of this may have been possible
thanks to the Hong Kong production company: Hong Kong cinema had been featuring female action stars for decades, and Rothrock was already a proven
performer with Golden Harvest. Credit is also due to Sandra Weintraub, an
award-winning TV writer who put together the story.

Trivia: Rothrock accepted her role in China O’Brien as an alternative to different project. She had
verbally committed to a film that would have required her to rappel down a Hong
Kong skyscraper without the benefit of a safety net. Increasingly concerned about the risks, she opted
for the less stunt-intensive China O’Brien when it was offered
to her.

Of course, the film’s status as a cult favorite is something it had to earn,
and in this regard, credit is due Robert Clouse. Clouse never recaptured
the acclaim he won by working with Bruce Lee, but he maintained penchants for
creating investable characters under limited means. Many of China O’Brien’s locations may as well be
public property, but they feel homey and authentic, and the personalities
inhabiting them are never boring. There are no great
actors in the cast, but Clouse channels his ensemble’s natural gusto into
organic performances. Rothrock would eventually improve her dramatic
output, but even here it’s clear that she has the winning presence of all major
B-movie performers, and the director makes great use of it.

The film addresses misogyny but is careful to do it in an inoffensive way, with
the perpetrators always being the clear-cut villains who are guilty of other crimes as well. There’s a particularly
insightful scene where China is confronted by Patty (Lainie
Watts), a former schoolmate and apparent sex worker. Patty makes a show of accepting
her low status among the villains, laughing along with their sexist jokes and rebuffing China’s compliments about her looks. She accuses China of
snobbery, gets angry, and attempts to humiliate her. This leads to one of the
aforementioned brawls, and it’s a little surprising when the majority of the
bar’s patrons applaud China’s eventual victory, given that they stayed out of
the fight completely. As such, it’s implied that while the townsfolk do not approve
of the villains’ behavior towards women, they are too powerless or apathetic to
stop it. China never directly addresses the sexism or violence towards women,
and while a lack of overt social commentary may have spared Cynthia Rothrock
from antifeminist criticism throughout her career, her character’s lack of
reflection on happenings so relevant to her makes the film feel incomplete.

One thing that I wonder about is the decision to cast the Irish-Japanese Keith
Cooke as a Native American. The character’s ethnicity isn’t made a big deal
of, which makes this an even odder instance racial miscasting. Why didn’t the
filmmakers just make his character Asian? The only reason I can conjure is
that a good deal of Sommers’ henchmen are also Asian, and the filmmakers
may have thought that selecting an ethnicity not represented in the villains’
ranks was necessary to justify the insults they level against him.

Nevertheless, it’s safe to say that China
O’Brien ends up doing more things right than wrong. Its fight
scenes are consistently strong and the story structure is nicely indulgent,
providing ample opportunities to cheer the heroes for both their deeds and
their kicks. The cinematography is bright, colorful, and always fun to look at. Out-of-genre viewers may yet have a
problem with this one, but karate devotees with even a little appreciation for
the genre’s outliers are well-advised to find it on disc.

China
O’Brien (1990)
Directed by Robert Clouse
Written by Robert Clouse (screenplay),
Sandra Weintraub (story)
Starring Cynthia Rothrock, Richard
Norton (Mr. Nice Guy), Keith Cooke (Mortal Kombat)
Cool costars: Nijel Binns (Shadow of the Dragon) as China’s
co-instructor, Toshihiro Obata (Teenage
Mutant Ninja Turtles) as an uncredited thug and possibly the only opponent
who puts up much of a fight against the heroes.
Title refers to: Cynthia Rothrock’s character
Potential triggers: Violence against women, group violence, torture
Copyright Pan-Pacific Productions
Inc.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?”

H’lo, Tumblr! I’m the new guy.

This will be my place to go on about two of my areas of interest: low-budget
martial arts movies and the people who make them. I’ve written customer reviews
for karate flicks for eight years, but after developing a critical eye, I want to
expound on this subgenre more analytically. One particular aspect I want to
cover is the movies’ approach to social issues, which is something I’ve yet to
see from other outlets. Something I intend to avoid is the irony expressed by
other sources covering these films: I appreciate good joke reviews, but this
won’t be the place for them. My primary pool will be American features produced
between the mid-80s and now, though I’ll expand to international outings whenever
the mood hits. Also, expect to see posts on specific performers and trends
within the industry.

How much I post will depend on other commitments, but I hope to produce a minimum
of two full-length articles per month. This may not be the busiest blog, but
hopefully it’ll be worth keeping an eye on.

Well, that’s all for now. Hope you enjoy what’s to come!