Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

(1990, US/HK, New Line Cinema/Golden Harvest)

Dir. Steve Barron; Pro. David Chan Sek-hong, Kim Dawson, Simon Fields; Scr. Todd W. Langen, Bobby Herbeck; Action Dir. Pat Johnson; Cast Judith Hoag, Elias Koteas, James Saito, Toshiro Obata, Josh Pais, Michelan Sisti, Leif Tilden, David Forman.

93 min.

A petty crimewave hits New York City. Troubled youths are pinching possessions as an offering to an evil master and his army of foot soldiers. Shredder (Saito) is the man behind it all. He’s a steel-plated cartoon nemesis whose only opposition, it seems, appears to be coming from beneath New York’s busy streets.

A group of adolescent, slang talking, pizza eating, human sized mutant turtles occupy the sewers, trained in the ways of ninjitsu, taught to them by their ageing sensei Splinter – a giant rat. The turtles take to the streets when Splinter is kidnapped and kick back in a carnival of slapstick tom foolery.

The film also includes a love/hate set up between TV reporter April (Hoag) and martial arts enthusiast Kacey (Koteas), but the subplot is rightfully marginialised in favour of a more childish, universal adventure. Jim Henson’s Creature Shop work their magic with the animatronics and the dubbed turtles retain a certain level of superficial attitude and charm, lacking in character what they more than compensate for in design.

Surprisingly, the result actually pays off, and the film is an endearing live action debut for the spunky comic book heroes. Cowabunga, dude.

Hand of Death

(1976, HK, Golden Harvest)

Dir. John Woo; Pro. Raymond Chow Man-wai; Scr. John Woo; Action Dir. Sammo Hung Kam-bo; Cast Dorian Tan Tao-liang, Yeng Wei, Paul Chang Chung, James Tien Chun, Sammo Hung Kam-bo, Jackie Chan, John Woo, Yuen Biao.

98 min.

Here’s a formulaic gem from the bygone years – the only movie to ever combine the talents of Jackie Chan, Sammo Hung and Yuen Biao under the auspices of action auteur John Woo in one of his earliest directing roles. This is kung phooey in the traditional sense, set during the Ching Dynasty and involving a group of resistance Shaolin fighters led by Dorian Tan. His turbulent task is to escort a rebel leader (played by a young John Woo) across dangerous terrain to safety overseas. James Tien is the villain, playing a hairy ex-Shaolin renegade now Manchu leader set to destroy the film’s vengeful heroes: a spearman (Jackie Chan), a swordsman (Yeng Wei) and the super kicks of Dorian Tan. The action is choreographed to perfection by Sammo whose bucktooth villain is a pure hoot. Hand of Death is run of the mill but a superior novelty nonetheless.

AKA: Countdown in Kung Fu; Shaolin Men; Strike of Death

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.

Ip Man

(2008, HK, Beijing ShengShi HuaRui Film Investment & Management Co./China Film/Mandarin Films/New Film Studio of Beijing Starlight International/Shanghai Film Group)

Dir. Wilson Yip Wai-shun; Pro. Raymond Wong Bak-ming; Scr. Edmond Wong Chi-mun; Action Dir. Sammo Hung Kam-bo, Tony Leung Siu-hung; Cast Donnie Yen Chi-tan, Simon Yam Tat-wah, Fan Siu-wong, Gordon Lam Ka-tung, Xing Yu, Hiroyuki Ikeuchi, Wong You-nam.

106 min.

To describe Wilson Yip’s glossy take on the formative years of Wing Chun master Ip Man as a biopic is being somewhat economical with the truth. The same misnomer could apply to other vaguely biographical sensationalist potboilers like Fighter in the Wind and Fearless. Yip’s passionate and patriotic drama closely resembles a companion piece for the latter, focussing on the second Sino-Japanese war and the subsequent hostilities facing the Chinese living in invaded Foshan. It even champions an outwardly familiar anti-Japanese sentiment, something Chinese filmmakers have been flogging since, well, the war.

The role of Foshan is also symbolic, being the prosperous holy land for China’s most revered martial arts superheroes – the most famous being Wong Fei-hung. Obviously Ip Man’s backstory was nowhere near as colourful as depicted here (he wasn‘t even living in Foshan during the war). Wilson Yip abandons fact in favour of cicumstance to promote the Wing Chun master as China’s next martial messiah. It is perhaps telling that Ip Man’s grandson, Ip Chun, acts as consultant for the film.

In reality, Ip Man is most famous for being Bruce Lee’s martial arts instructor. If you know a bit about your modern day kung fu history, you may also be aware of Ip Man being the first person to teach the general public about the closely guarded secret discipline of wing chun – a quick, close combat kung fu system.

When we first meet Ip Man (played by Donnie Yen in his most comfortable setting), he is living as a peaceful family man, testing his skills with other sifus on Dojo Street but refusing to pass his secrets onto others. When the Japanese invade in 1937, Foshan is thrown into chaos and its residents, including Ip Man, are forced into slums. With depleting rations and insufficient medical care, the locals face the poisonous dilemma of either fighting back, aiding the Japanese war effort or, worse still, fighting among themselves.

In one scene, a hotheaded northern kung fu rebel steals Chinese cotton supplies in an attempt to sell them back to their southern Chinese owners. It is this act which motivates Ip Man to teach his fellow natives the secrets of wing chun in an attempt to free his people from their brutal, slave-like conditions.

The film builds into an unfortunately predictable showdown of nationalistic intent where Ip Man is pitted in a bare knuckle brawl with the head of the Japanese army, a karate expert, who tastefully shows a deep respect for the martial arts and its honourable traditions, far unlike the snarling cartoon villainy of his subordinates.

At the heart of the film is a keen admiration for not just Chinese martial arts but the masters who practice them. Sammo Hung’s faultless choreography steals the screen at every opportunity. For Hung, who has already made films detailing the founding fathers of Wing Chun (Warriors Two, The Prodigal Son), Ip Man is the next logical step in charting the system’s distinguished lineage. And Donnie Yen makes the role his own.

AKA: Yip Man

Game of Death

(1978, US/HK, Golden Harvest/Concord Productions)

Dir. Robert Clouse, Bruce Lee; Pro. Bruce Lee, Raymond Chow Man-wai; Scr. Bruce Lee, Jan Spears; Action Dir. Bruce Lee, Sammo Hung Kam-bo; Cast Bruce Lee, Gig Young, Dean Jagger, Hugh O’Brian, Colleen Camp, Robert Wall, Mel Novak, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, Chuck Norris, Dan Inosanto, Billy McGill, Sammo Hung Kam-bo, Roy Chiao Hung, Ji Han-jae, Casanova Wong Ho.

96 min.

Lee’s unfinished Game of Death would prove to be one of his most successful films despite its shameful exploitative nature.

Scrapping Lee’s original concept, Enter the Dragon director Robert Clouse was brought in to recreate a new posthumous Bruce Lee movie using footage Lee had already filmed prior to his death. The result is a mostly pedestrian Hollywood melodrama, horribly cobbled together and completed almost entirely with the help of body doubles and lookalikes (Kim Tai-chong and Yuen Biao among them), and featuring less than subtle snippets from Bruce Lee’s other films.

This comedy of errors is matched by an equally souped up storyline in which ‘Bruce Lee’ plays screen icon Billy Lo, targeted by a criminal syndicate who are eager for the actor to join their organisation (led by Americans Jagger and O’Brian). Billy is shot on the set of Fist of Fury but survives, only to stage his own funeral and attack his adversaries in disguise. As an additional insult, footage from Bruce Lee’s real funeral are used during these ceremonial scenes.

In stark contrast to everything prior, the final scenes are poetry in motion. The real Bruce Lee, wearing an iconic yellow jump suit, storms through levels of a pagoda to confront three formidable opponents in quick succession: Dan Inosanto in a riproaring nunchaku battle, Hapkido expert and screen stiff Ji Han-jae in a hand to hand grapple to the death, and 7’2” basketball star Kareem Abdul-Jabbar in a legendary David and Goliath encounter. Nothing beats the excitement generated by Bruce Lee in these closing scenes. The rest of the film is simply ugly.

Note: the Cantonese version features less chat and more action, including Kim Tai-chong’s greenhouse duel with Casanova Wong, later featuring in the bizarre fun of Game of Death II.

AKA: Bruce Lee’s Game of Death

Fighting Mad

(1978, US, Cosa Nueva)

Dir. Cirio H. Santiago; Pro. Robert E. Waters; Scr. Howard R. Cohen; Cast James Inglehart, Carmen Argenziano, Leon Isaac Kennedy, Jayne Kennedy.

90 min.

A strange amalgamation of blaxploitation, Italian mafia and Japanese Samurai films. The best scenes in this predictable but amiable B movie are when sensitive Mr. T type Leon Isaac chops up coconuts on a desert island with two stranded Japanese World War II vets who still believe the war is going on. Isaac fills them in on the past three decades of history in exchange for some sword fighting lessons. He uses his new skills to exact revenge on his double crossing friends who now own most of downtown Los Angeles. When the US army reach the desert island, Isaac is taken home but his Japanese counterparts continue to fight back. “The war is over,” he reminds them. “Not for me,” they reply.

AKA: Dragon Force

The Octagon

(1980, US, American Cinema Productions)

Dir. Eric Karson; Pro. Joel Freeman; Scr. Paul Aaron, Leigh Chapman; Action Dir. Aaron Norris, Chuck Norris; Cast Chuck Norris, Karen Carlson, Lee Van Cleef, Art Hindle, Carol Bagdasarian, Tadashi Yamashita, Richard Norton.

103 min.

Chuck is on fighting form as karate champ Scott James, a sweet talker with psychological issues (his subconscious thoughts are represented by a echoed voiceover which gets really annoying). Mercenaries are being transported to a distant training ranch and taught the outlawed secrets of Ninjitsu, and their scary leader Seikura (Yamashita) just happens to be Scott’s martial brother. What an awkward coincidence. There’s only one way to sort this situation out: with violence, and plenty of it. Amateur performances and clumsy dialogue tend to slow things down, however the final assault with Norris fighting an entire ninja ranch singlehandedly is crazy enough to make it all worthwhile.

AKA: The Man Without Mercy

Flash Legs

(1977, HK, Hwa Tai Movie Co.)

Dir. Wu Ma; Pro. Tung Chen-ching; Action Dir. Wong Lung; Cast Dorian Tan Tao-liang, Lung Fei, Lo Lieh, Doris Lung Chung-erh, Wong Hap, Kam Kong.

92 min.

Promising more boot than you can shake a kwan at, Flash Legs does everything it says on the tin. The titular flash legs belong to Dorian Tan who gets to show off his entire repertoire of fancy kicks. The premise seems tedious enough – eight bandits are singlehandedly bumped off by police chief Tan for stealing a sacred treasure map – and makes you wonder how it lasts the distance. Its probably got something to do with all those fight scenes, which fly in thick and fast in this relatively mediocre kung fu fest.

AKA: Deadly Kick; Shaolin Deadly Kicks

Fist of the North Star

(1995, US, Warner Bros.)

Dir. Tony Randel; Pro. Aki Komine, Mark Yellen; Scr. Tony Randel, Peter Atkins; Action Dir. Winston Omega; Cast Gary Daniels, Malcolm McDowell, Costas Mandylor, Chris Penn, Downtown Julie Brown, Dante Basco.

103 min.

The grisly Japanese comic book and anime Hokuto no Ken was always going to be a tough concept to bring to life, what with its epic post-apocolyptic scope, larger than life characters and extreme violence. Herein lies the crux of the film’s problem. Inevitably, Randel gives us a gory He-Man; a cheap studio based fantasy with shoddy sets and two-bit caricatures. Randel’s lowkey lighting and Malcolm McDowell narration are not nearly as atmospheric as they ought to be, coming across more like crass sci-fi clichés. The film’s singular grace is a collection of semi decent scuffles, particularly near the end.

Daniels is Kenshiro, the only warrior capable of bringing down Lord Shin (Mandylor), an evil dictator who kills Ken’s father, kidnaps his girlfriend and tries to take over the world. Kenshiro can make people’s heads explode and Shin’s trick involves penetrating rivals with his glowing hands.

AKA: Hokuto No Ken