Chocolate

(2008, Thailand, Sahamongkol Film International/Baa-Ram-Ewe)

Dir. Prachya Pinkaew; Pro. Prachya Pinkaew, Panna Rittikrai; Scr. Napalee, Chukiat Sakveerakul; Action Dir. Panna Rittikrai; Cast JeeJa Yanin, Hiroshi Abe, Pongpat Wachirabunjong, Taphon Phopwandee, Ammara Siripong.

92 min.

Panna Rittikrai‘s attempt to launch a female Tony Jaa is incongruously revealed in one of Chocolate’s more contrived scenes, when JeeJa Yanin is shown to have developed her ass-kicking abilities after repeated viewings of Ong-Bak. But Yanin is much more than just Jaa in a skirt.

Director Pinkaew hones a more sensitive side to his film which, although strikingly at odds with the gratuitous carnage, is never once unconvincing. Yanin plays Zen, a young autistic girl with a penchant for kung fu who, unbeknownst to her, winds up plonking her retired mobster mother right in it with her old bosses. A former moll to a sadistic, lovesick Thai gangster and his army of lady boys, Zen’s mother breaks off a condemned, illicit affair with a Yazuka boss for fear of her family’s safety, fleeing to lead a relatively normal life in covert poverty. As Zen’s mother’s health deteriorates and medical bills pile up, Zen naively calls in her mother’s old debts, leading to an all-out maelstrom.

Despite Pinkaew’s opening disclaimer in which he dedicates his film to the world’s “special children”, the bit where Zen has to duel with a boy of a seemingly similar disability is still a touch insensitive. But this is merely a blip on a relatively heartfelt premise. Well, as heartfelt as a violent martial arts movie can get. Stylistically, we are still very much in Ong-Bak territory, but let’s be honest, that’s never a bad place to be.

Derailed

(2002, US, Millennium Films/777 Films Corporation/Halt Productions/Nu Image Films)

Dir. Bob Misiorowski; Pro. Boaz Davidson, Danny Lerner, David Varod; Scr. Jace Anderson, Adam Gierasch; Cast Jean-Claude Van Damme, Tomas Arana, Laura Harring, Susan Gibney, Lucy Jenner.

89 min.

Secret agent Van Damme accompanies a femme fatale thief and part time trapeze artist smuggling chemical weapons onto an unfeasible large train from Bratislava to Munich. Hoods hijack the train holding the passengers hostage, including Van Damme’s family who ill-advisedly decide to show up. With Van Damme on board, the terrorists are kicked and pummeled into submission during increasingly chaotic set pieces which highlight some very poor green screen effects and incomprehensible editing. It’s a depressing notion to find a film attempting to emulate Under Siege 2 and failing.

The Shepherd: Border Patrol

(2008, US, Sony Pictures/Stage 6 Films)

Dir. Isaac Florentine; Pro. Moshe Diamant, Gilbert Dumontet; Scr. Joe Gayton, Cade Courtley; Action Dir. J.J. Perry; Cast Jean-Claude Van Damme, Stephen Lord, Natalie J. Robb, Gary McDonald, Daniel Perrone.

95 min.

Now here’s a pretty terrible title for a Van Damme film. He stalks this one with the resigned look of a guy who has already made this movie a dozen times before. The cheap, straight to video feel makes it seem like the filmmakers haven’t watched a film for at least 15 years. Luckily Van Damme made JCVD after this, causing a career renaissance which would have seemed all but impossible at this stage in his career.

He plays a despondent New Orleans cop who joins the New Mexico border patrol to take on the drug cartels, with a ball-busting sergeant and a pet rabbit for company. The main culprits are a disillusioned troop of army-trained US mercenaries who use their Afghan contacts to control the shipment of heroin into the country. They’re bomb nuts and have experience dealing with jihadists, but you’ll find more political clout on a cereal box than you will here.

Undisputed II director Florentine sparks life into the fight scenes with great attention to stunt work and flashy kicks, particularly from Scott Adkins, whose anticipated fight with Van Damme at the end is the only excitement in a rather tired final act.

Rage and Honor II: Hostile Takeover

(1992, US, IRS Media)

Dir. Guy Norris; Pro. Donald Paul Pemrick, Kevin Reidy; Scr. Steven Reich, Louis Sun; Cast Cynthia Rothrock, Richard Norton, Patrick Muldoon, Frans Tumbuan, Ron Vreeken.

98 min.

One of the better Rothrock–Norton outings – the so-called Fred Astair and Ginger Rogers of martial arts movies – which forms the apex of their onscreen partnership. Australian stunt coordinator and director Guy Norris plays to their individual strengths, offering them the mutual respect they deserve. He delivers straight and stocky B-movie action with a no frills approach, but it’s still a damn sight more convincing than the first film, even if this is the kind of movie where characters think out loud and brainy people wear glasses.

Rothrock returns as Kris Fairchild, a governmental Special Ops enforcer sent undercover in Jakarta to root out shady deals at the city bank. The manager has been laundering cash for top crim’ Buntao (Tunbuan) until a new, mysterious super crook calling himself Dazzo starts to muscle in on his turf, threatening to jeopardise a highly lucrative diamond deal.

Norton reprises Preston Michaels as an obligatory Australian bartender and kickboxing instructor now conveniently residing in Indonesia after retiring from the force, who reunites with Kris via new pupil Tommy (Starship Troopers‘ Muldoon) before helping with her investigations.

The training sequences between Norton and Muldoon are the most genuine parts of the film and stand out for their authenticity and as a showcase for Norton’s physical dominance, making the subsequent cartoon fisticuffs even more hokey in comparison. But this is a sturdy double header for both leads and a pleasingly innocuous slice of violence not without its own idiotic charm.

Bichunmoo

(2000, South Korea, Taewon Entertainment)

Dir. Kim Young-jun; Pro. Lee Tae-won, Yoo Jung-ho; Scr. Kim Young-jun; Action Dir. Ma Yuk-sing; Cast Shin Hyeon-jun, Kim Hee-seon, Jeong Jin-yeong, Jang Dong-jik, Choi Jin-hee, Seo Tae-hwa.

118 min.

Chaotic Korean swordplay epic, the first of its kind, utilising the skill of Hong Kong choreographers in a clash of cultural talent. Bichunmoo was credited for reviving populist interest in Korean filmmaking, but many other productions of the same period are considerably better (cop thriller Shiri being a prime example). Despite the length, first time director Kim Young-jun still crams far too much information into his film. It confuses more than it shimmers – a stark contrast to what the hype would have you believe.

The tale of a lone swordsman seeking revenge for his murdered family and lost lover is familiar territory – the emotional outbursts and flailing performances barely worthy to kiss Ang Lee’s boots. The action spins and somersaults with tremendous velocity, pointlessly at times, with an obvious sense of style over substance. Our hero can shake a sturdy sword, even whip the wind into a mad frenzy making his adversaries explode into clouds of dust, but you will find it hard to be won over by the film’s pretensiousness.

AKA: Flying Warriors; Out Live  

Chanbara Beauty

(2008, Japan, JollyRoger)

Dir. Yôhei Fukuda; Pro. Masanori Kawashima, Ryô Murata, Hideyuki Sakurai, Kyôsuke Ueno; Scr. Yôhei Fukuda, Yasutoshi Murakawa; Action Dir. Gô Ohara; Cast Eri Otoguro, Tomohiro Waki, Tarô Suwa, Manami Hashimoto, Chise Nakamura.

86 min.

Based on the hack and slash OneChanbara video game – the fan boy premise of which revolves almost entirely around partial nudity and a gory zombie invasion – this live-action version dares to add depth and character to a gratuitous franchise which, on the face of it, may seem like a wistful waste of time.

The film feels more like a gaming experience than a movie. The computer generated effects feature such high levels of bloodletting that most of the red stuff ends up splattered on the lens. Then there are the formulaic zombie set pieces which place central characters in a warehouse, then in an abandoned hospital, then in the villain’s lair, like different levels on a video game.

The fantasy figure of Aya – a bikini clad zombie-slashing anti-hero in a Stetson, part Buffy part Girl with No Name – is a purely fetishised gaming creation, sporting nothing but a red bikini and optional poncho with barely enough space to carry her swords. She even possesses supernatural special moves, like the ability to dodge bullets, teleport, and do a back-flip without losing her hat. Her sword embodies a purple lightsabre glow and causes mini nuclear explosions.

These fantasy elements make the film more Resident Evil than Dawn of the Dead, yet stylistically it has an interesting hybrid of fashions; a future vision of Japan resembling the old American west combined with the traditions of Samurai chanbara films.

The post-zombie-apocalypse theme seemed more existential in the great 2000 slasher film Versus. Here, there is no context to help explain the hoards of walking dead other than the kooky experimentations of mad scientist Sugita (conveniently, he’s the one who always appears in a lab coat). He spends his days with a Messiah complex surrounded by body parts, injecting life serum into the resurrected.

How he could possibly have orchestrated the end of the world is left unclear, as Aya and her wandering, nomadic cohorts have personal scores to settle. Reiko wears biking leathers and carries a sawn-off shotgun, nursing the psychological defects of having to kill her own zombie daughter. Then there is burly comic relief Katsuji who reunites with his long-lost sister only to discover she is now a kung fu zombie schoolgirl spinning a lethal ball and chain.

This is textbook geeky fantasy nonsense, mostly innocuous despite the film’s rampant blood lust. The film culminates in a sibling showdown which completely loses its mind, as Aya confronts her wayward sister in a barren, spaghetti western stand-off.

AKA: OneChanbara: The Movie; OneChanbara: Zombie Bikini Squad; Zombie Killer

Shogun Assassin

(1980, Japan/US, Katsu Production/Toho Film Co.)

Dir. Kenji Misumi, Robert Houston; Pro. Shintaro Katsu, Hisaharu Matsubara, Robert Houston, David Weisman; Scr. Kazuo Koike, Goseki Kojima, Robert Houston, David Weisman; Action Dir. Eiichi Kusumoto; Cast Tomisaburo Wakayama, Kayo Matsuo, Minoru Ohki, Akiji Kobayashi, Shin Kishida.

86 min.

A slice ‘n’ dice treatment on the first two Lone Wolf & Cub movies from the early 1970s, this is a commercially aesthetic international re-edit and, therefore, the most widely viewed instalment. You’ve probably seen this movie without even knowing.

The narrative is messy but as a spectacle it works just fine. The film centres on the iconic cinematic image of Lone Wolf, a lethal Samurai assassin, who roams ninja-infested terrain with Cub, his three year old son who is cased inside a lethal push chair rigged to the hilt with booby traps. The premise is both savage and heartfelt. Lone Wolf’s unbridled affection for his son forms a great contrast with the way he violently dismembers hoards of blade wielding baddies.

Lone Wolf mainly focuses his decapitation skills on a sprightly bunch of deadly lady ninjas and the superbly titled Masters of Death, resulting in blood, gore, and much of the same. The deaths are extravagant but stylish. It’s Kurosawa on a serial rampage, but with a kid in a pram, obviously.

Warriors Two

(1978, HK, Golden Harvest)

Dir. Sammo Hung Kam-bo; Pro. Raymond Chow Man-wai; Scr. Szeto On; Action Dir. Sammo Hung Kam-bo; Cast Casanova Wong Ho, Sammo Hung Kam-bo, Leung Kar-yan, Fung Hark-on, Dean Shek Tin, Lee Hoi-san, Tiger Yeung Cheng-wu, Yeng Wei, Lau Kar-wing.

92 min.

Imaginative, enthralling and action packed, this is Sammo Hung at the height of his powers, creating a riotous martial arts classic many would argue to be the greatest kung fu movie ever made.

All the genre hallmarks are here – revenge, loyalty, slapstick comedy, a narrative inspired by a real Chinese folk hero and a primary focus on one specific style. Sammo’s chosen folk hero is Foshan legend and Wing Chun master Leung Jan. Leung Kar-yan (in perhaps the best performance of his career) betrays his youthful looks to play the respected hero in his old age.

He’s the sifu of the buffoonish Chun (Sammo) and medical advisor to young bank clerk Cashier Hua (Casanova). After overhearing the evil Mo (Fung Hark-on) explain to his cronies about his plight to take over Foshan, Hua is beaten and hunted by Mo’s rabble of chopsocky misfits, forced to seek refuge with Leung Jan. Jan teaches the boy Wing Chun in order to combat his adversaries, eventually stepping up to take revenge when his master is slain in an intense tea shop brawl.

The cast is fabulous, particularly overlooked Korean actor Casanova Wong who was never given the opportunity to capitalise on his burgeoning success. The cartoon villainy of Lee Hoi-san (master of the Iron Bell technique), Yeung Cheng-wu (playing a long haired superkicker), Yeng Wei (a deadly spearman), and Dean Shek (an irritating clown) all offer stern support, not to mention the Mantis twitchings of Fung Hark-on who is eerily sublime.

The final brawl is an insane, extended climax – one of the all time greats – and although the entertainment value of this film has since been equalled, Warriors Two has yet to be surpassed for its sheer skill and audacity. Sammo Hung’s more revered 1981 film The Prodigal Son, detailing the early years of Leung Jan, acts as a prequel to this film.

Police Woman

(1974, HK, Great Earth Film Company)

Dir. Zhu Mu; Pro. Zhu Mu; Scr. Zhu Mu; Action Dir. Jackie Chan, Yuen Cheung-yan; Cast Charlie Chin Chiang-lin, John Cheung Ng-long, Hu Chin, Jackie Chan, Feng Yi.

75 min.

You’re on really dodgy ground with this quick piece of Hong Kong phooey. Dated, amateur and cheap, the story concerns a taxi driver (Charlie Chin) who is targeted by a gang of vicious hoods after he assists a dying lady in his cab. Before her death, she stashes away a wallet carrying vital clues to the identity of the criminal gang responsible and the bad guys want it back. The sister of the victim investigates and uses her kung fu to help the taxi driver save the day.

Apart from the novelty of Jackie Chan’s young presence as one of the gang leaders with an oversized mole stuck on his face, this dire film was probably best forgotten. Instead, since Chan’s rise to international stardom, the film has been given a fanciful rebirth with numerous titles and horribly misleading packaging.

AKA: Here Come Big Brother; The Heroine; Rumble in Hong Kong; Young Tiger

To Kill with Intrigue

(1977, HK, Lo Wei Motion Picture Co.)

Dir. Lo Wei; Pro. Lo Wei; Scr. Gu Long; Action Dir. Chan San-yat, Jackie Chan; Cast Jackie Chan, Hsu Feng, San Yat-lung, George Wang Jue, Ma Kei, Tung Lam, Lee Man-tai.

103 min.

Another one of Lo Wei’s futile attempts at throwing shit to the wall and seeing what sticks. Here is another dated stinker from the darkest recesses of Lo Wei’s underpants which tries earnestly to add colour to another flaky drama. The scenery is nice, the costumes are fetching and the kung fu is pretty good, but where it unravels (like the many others of its kind) is in a rambling story line which appears to have been made up as they went along.

Jackie Chan barely musters a smile as another stoic relic who spends the duration of the film searching for his pregnant girlfriend only to run into the Killer Bee Clan (who kill his parents), the Dragon Master Clan (who help him out a bit but are then killed), and the lovely Hsu Feng who plays a fantastic knight lady with superior fighting skills (who also then kills a lot of people).

By the end you will wonder whether you have been watching the same film, perhaps something with a slightly more appropriate title. To Bore with Mediocrity, perhaps. Yet the kung fu is consistent and the special effects are good, in an ironic sort of way.