Reviewnalysis: China O’Brien II (1990)

*SPOILERS
AHEAD*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

China
O’Brien II

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

China
O’Brien II

(1990)
Directed
by

Robert Clouse
Written
by

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

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

and therefore merits a mention.
Title
refers to:

Cynthia Rothrock’s character.
Content
warning:

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

Reviewnalysis: 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.

image

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.

image

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.

image

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.

image

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.

image

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.