I don’t know that one can review 1989’s Kickboxer without placing it in context with 1988’s Bloodsport. Jean Claude Van Damme fans generally view it as the lackluster direct follow-up to Bloodsport. That’s certainly how I felt all those years ago watching it on VHS. I can confirm it to be so after re-watching for this review. While Bloodsport is a guilty pleasure that 100% holds up in present day and is always an enjoyable view, Kickboxer is simply not a good film. Doubly so if you lack any nostalgic attachment to it. The proceedings feel stilted and JCVD behaves like he is just learning how to act (we know he knows how to act. See: Bloodsport). The fight choreography, shot in a style similar to that of Bloodsport, feels rudimentary and dull. The 80’s film staple training montages are more compelling than any action save for the final battle. All non-action scenes and dialogue have an amateurish and low-fidelity quality that make Bloodsport look like high art. The grating synth soundtrack doesn’t help matters. There are a couple of sequences, both too despicable to mention, designed to create sympathy for our hero and disapproval for antagonist Tong Po that are wholly tasteless. Speaking of the mute Tong Po (why doesn’t he speak?), it’s interesting to watch the film today and note that Van Damme’s Sloane experiences exactly one professional Muay Thai fight before moving on to Po, a fighter presented as Thailand’s grand champ. It may seem like I’m split-kicking Kickboxer in the face. I am. It’s just not as good as our collective memories think it is. Kickboxer holds some value as a noteworthy moment in the Martial Arts cinematic zeitgeist and Van Damme’s career. It’s spawned half a dozen sequels for a reason. But it is an absolute mess of a film. I challenge anyone to re-watch it and provide a compelling case otherwise. Don’t go off of memory.
Kickboxer is bad. Just watch Bloodsport.
For many of us in the MTV-when-it-had-music-videos generation, Boiler Room (2000) is the turn of the millennium boilerplate for a life of excess that seemed pretty darn appealing. The film stars Giovanni Ribisi in an understatedly nuanced performance that sees his character transition from well-intentioned to willfully ignorant/exploitative and back again. His journey from running a comparatively tame but still illegal home casino to superstar broker of imaginary stock at imaginary firm JT Marlin (imaginary both literally and within the film) is a prescient cautionary tale for the dangers of sacrificing one’s identity in pursuit of the almighty dollar. The film’s impressive cast of early-career stars including Ben Affleck, Scott Caan, Vin Diesel and Tom Everett Scott present a dramatized but fully steeped in fact account of how the stock market and its unintelligible rules and regulations can be manipulated for ill-gotten gain. Boiler Room is a proto-Wolf of Wall Street. Both films are magnetic from start to finish and present Wall Street as a den of greedy amoral thieves. The key difference is while Jordan Belfort was a relentless con-artist and unlikable to anyone not getting rich with him, Ribisi’s Seth Davis is inherently good and flirts with the ultimate seducer (money) without ever allowing himself to fully turn to the dark side save for a brief moment at the peak of his scam-artist skill as a JT Marlin pump and dump broker. You can clearly see the pain and anguish on Ribisi’s increasingly pallid and lizard like face as he bilks his “customers” out of their life savings. I would argue that Ribisi’s character always knew that no amount of money is worth the destruction of the hopes and dreams of another. If not, he learned a valuable and timely lesson.
Boiler Room receives a score of 9.5/10 for general audiences and for fans of stellar acting and writing. The scenes with Affleck are worth the price of admission.
The best action movies are those where the action feels earned. That is, the physical conflicts are borne from believable, justifiable philosophical conflicts that don’t require constant leaps in logic or the viewer to turn their brain off. Explosions for explosions sake don’t resonate. It’s always better to have less action if the script fills that time with proper set-up and character development. It is only then when action scenes are elevated and have true meaning. Many a screenwriter overlook this critical element and their films suffer as a result. Michael Bay is a frequent offender. I don’t have much ground to stand on considering his movies routinely gross a gazillion dollars but that’s a conversation for another time. Bay has two films that stand out for their tight script and earned action. Pain and Gain is one. The Rock (1996) is the other. Starring Nic Cage and Sir Sean Connery, The Rock is a case study in crafting a story and developing characters that represent the perfect canvas on which to place action - this is why it is considered a genre classic. The inimitable Ed Harris plays the films heavy, Brigadier General Frank Hummel. Hummel is no mustache-twirling villain. His motivation for creating the central conflict is Magneto-like in that he desires only justice and fairness for those who have been wronged. He’s an actual hero forced to become the villain. Nic Cages’ Stanley Goodspeed, our protagonist, isn’t a chiseled frame bullet sponge. He’s a beleaguered scientist with a wife and a kid on the way. Lesser films would’ve glossed over these elements. Knowing that our protagonist is at the end of the day just a working stiff like the rest of us is what makes him interesting. Sean Connery’s Mason is essentially James Bond, only cooler. His every movement and word ooze with confidence and swagger (sort of like Connery IRL). If you ever find yourself stuck and facing down a squad of trained mercenaries, John Patrick Mason is the guy you want on your side.
The Rock could’ve been another loud and brainlessly grating Bay action film. It is elevated by the script and a charismatic performance by Connery. May he Rest in Power. 10/10
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Best of the Best (1989) has one of the most memorable and unique endings of any martial arts film ever. That is no hyperbole. Tommy Lee, played by Phillip Rhee, commits the most selfless act possible for a character defined by loss and anger – he spares his sworn enemy and abandons the chance for vengeance. While it sounds like a predictable plot point, it works here to add depth to both Tommy and his adversary. Tommy's mercy quite literally hands a gold medal to his helpless opponent. The moment he decides not to strike down the already defeated but still on his feet Dae Han (played by Steven Rhee, Phillip's real life brother) is life affirming. Check for a pulse If you don’t feel something stirring deep inside as a battered Dae Han places his unearned gold medal on Tommy’s shoulders moments before offering himself as Tommy’s brother. It’s heart-wrenching and the type of resonant exchange rarely seen in action films. It elevates an otherwise run of the mill late eighties karate flick to something fans still discuss in 2021. Best of the Best takes the well-worn “American sports team must come together to conquer foreign enemy” trope and mashes it up with martial arts in a manner that is rousing, exciting, fun, and surprisingly thoughtful. The movie is unquestionably a product of its time with its fair share of cheesy moments and laughably un-challenging training montages. Only one of the five principal actors actually knows any karate but somehow it works. It wasn’t common in 1989 for the main character of a martial arts film to have a meaningful arc outside of saving the day. It's not common today. This film has two. Both Eric Roberts and Phillip Rhee come out of Best of the Best forever changed. The finale really is something special and the reason for the film's well earned cult status. All the mega-cheese in the first half of the film is nullifed by the ending.
BOTB receives a score of 7/10 for general audiences and 8/10 for fans of that special type of late eighties action film we don’t get any more.
Bad Santa is a wall-to-wall hilarious and prescient cautionary tale about the human condition and how we are all a product of our environments, for better or worse. No one is immune. Billy Bob Thornton’s Willie, the titular Santa, has endured a life so rife with abuse and mistreatment that no matter how terribly he behaves he never stops being a sympathetic figure. It’s difficult to write such a character and I image even harder to portray on screen. Willie is an unapologetic drunk, con artist, and generally horrible person but still very likable. Thornton’s performance is so endearing that for many Bad Santa is a Christmas staple. You can count me amongst that group. Willie wants to be a better person. He just needs a little extra motivation in the form of a bullied and neglected kid tragically named Thurman Merman that may or may not suffer from mental illness. The relationship between Willie and Thurman is the primary reason any of us enjoy or remember this film. We all went to school with a Thurman. Bad Santa provides stinging commentary on the consumerization of the holiday season but the real message here is that each of us has a responsibility to help others help themselves. No one is an island. It takes a while to get there but Willie has a darkly satisfying arc that concludes on an uplifting note. I positively love the fact that this firmly R-rated film centering around a relentlessly ornery, serial fornicator is essentially A Christmas Carol in disguise. RIP John Ritter.
Bad Santa receives a score of 8/10 for general audiences and a 9/10 if you can see through the vulgarity and recognize the heartwarming tale underneath.
Bad Santa 2 is an unfunny retread and lesser version of the original in every way. It’s almost as if the people who made it never saw the first one. Bad Santa, despite all the cursing, yelling, and violence, conveyed a feel-good message of positivity that works for a dark comedy that is also a holiday film. Its simple story rested upon the sympathetic bedrock of the innocently impressionable Thurman. Thurman’s plight coupled with the less than guaranteed redemption of Willie created a canvas on which to tell the type of story moviegoers stand up and clap for. This critically important emotional core is completely absent from the sequel. It comes as little surprise that essentially none of the directors, writers and producers of the original returned. Kathy Bates joins the cast as Willie’s mom and her character is viciously uninteresting. Every moment she is on screen is a depressing reminder of the toxic environment Willie grew up in. Bates sleepwalks through the role and her attempts at shocking us feel less like dark comedy and more like Bates collecting a paycheck. I guess Introducing Willie’s mom is a win for the screenplay in the backwards sense that we now fully understand how he never had a chance. Merry Christmas.
Bad Santa 2 is bad. Watch the original instead and if you are looking for other holiday films to watch, I recommend The Santa Clause and Jingle All the Way. 1/10
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There is a scene in 1999’s Cruel Intentions that stood out as odd 20+ years ago and is glaringly cringe in 2021. Said scene involves an act of casual sexual assault from Ryan Phillipe’s Sebastian Valmont on Selma Blair’s Lolita-like Celine Caldwell. It’s a brazen moment in a film that largely succeeds on the shock value of seeing actresses (and actors, looking at you Joshua Jackson) behaving very against type. The aforementioned Valmont/young Caldwell scene should’ve been omitted or altered. It doesn’t work in this adaptation of an 18th-century French novel with wealthy, randy teenagers subbing in for adults. Sarah Michelle-Gellar gives a deliciously wicked performance as Kathryn Merteuil even if the strength of the performance is inarguably bolstered by her saying and doing things we never expected to hear from SMG in 1999. Buffy the Vampire Slayer this is not. It’s interesting that Gellar subsequently avoided any roles nearly as risqué, largely retiring from acting outside of those Scooby Doo movies I never watched. Cruel Intentions occupies a special place in our collective memories because for all of its flaws, it has an excellent ensemble cast, soundtrack and heart-wrenching ending. The relationship between Sebastian and Reese Witherspoon’s Annette Hargrove is the heart of the film, fairly complex in terms of where it begins and ends, and represents one of the only truly likable characters (Hargrove) convincing the most terrible character (Sebastian) to renounce his womanizing ways. That Sebastian is ultimately redeemed douses the flame of the story-arc of coke-sniffing Kathryn and her refusal to treat anyone she meets as anything other than a plaything. The last 10 minutes of this film is supremely satisfying. I’d personally love to take a peek into Sebastian’s journal.
Cruel Intentions receives a score of 7.5/10 for general audiences and a 8.5/10 for any Gen X adult who grew up with Buffy Summers and Pacey Witter (it’s ok, I also never knew his last name until now).
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With all the nostalgic energy coursing through the ether due to Cobra Kai (recently released season 3 is solid but uneven, see our review), I thought it would be a fun exercise to re-experience the original Karate Kid trilogy of films with the increased perspective we now have on these 30+ year old characters. More specifically, I wanted to examine the first film paying close attention to whether Daniel-san was truly the aggressor in his back-and-forth with Johnny Lawrence as the internet would have you believe. As “Ali with an I” astutely points out in her Cobra Kai return, the truth lies somewhere in the middle. Daniel definitely sucker-punched Johnny on the beach immediately after receiving the first of several fairly brutal 5-on-1 beatdowns. It was a sucker punch insofar as Johnny didn’t see it coming but it made sense considering the circumstances. Directly following said sucker-punch came Daniel’s fruitless offer for a truce. That part gets left out of the “Daniel was the bad-guy” narrative. Daniel subsequently spends the middle act of the film avoiding Johnny (and Ali) before calling in Mr. Miyagi for help. It all makes for good nostalgic fun. In other words don’t worry, I’m in on the joke. The Karate Kid is a special film in many ways but most notably for how it is shot and acted. It’s a time capsule for and master class in that unmistakable but hard to reproduce eighties feel. We all know and love the tropes, music and cinematography-style of the eighties but save for Stranger Things, the only way to get the real deal is to go back and watch eighties movies. Cobra Kai tugs gently and effectively on our fondest memories of the original and later films but does it actually capture the feel of the movies? Perhaps in a couple of seriously fleeting moments in the first two seasons but overall, not really. This isn’t criticism of Cobra Kai but rather an acknowledgment of the place The Karate Kid holds in our hearts. Get ready for a bevy of announcements of Cobra Kai type shows hoping to capitalize on the power of nostalgia to bring back old viewers (along with an entire new generation: their kids).
Hate it or love it, there is no denying that The Karate Kid 2 is a strange sequel. We knew this to be true as kids but rather than appreciate the huge chance the movie takes in shifting the story almost entirely from Daniel to Mr. Miyagi, I think most of us were just confused at how far it strays from the tone and setting of the original. The 1987 sequel to smash hit The Karate Kid returns Miyagi to his Japanese roots and tells the deeply adult story of the fallout from his decades old, life-altering decision to flee Okinawa rather than stay and fight his best friend to the death for the hand of a woman they both love. It’s an extremely impactful and emotional story…that feels more like a karate kid spinoff than a sequel. Most of the story stakes were lost on me as a seven-year-old. Sato, played by gravelly voice Danny Kamekona holds onto the aforementioned “death by combat” grudge for 40 years. His commitment to feuding with Miyagi is the films key plot point. It too went right over my head as a kid. I distinctly remember wondering why the two old guys can’t just get along and why the karate kid never does karate until the literal end. Speaking of which, the conflict between Daniel and the mustache twirling Chozen, played by Yuji Okumoto, is weightless in comparison to that of Miyagi/Sato and the movie makes the curious decision to turn the climax of their battle into a literal joke. The general consensus is that The Karate Kid 2 is a lesser film than the original and for younger audiences it’s easy to understand why. There isn’t any karate until the beginning of the final act and essentially all of the dramatic heft in the first hour is conveyed via dialogue between a quietly wistful Miyagi and doe-eyed Daniel. For anyone under the age of 15 there simply isn’t much happening in this film that features the words karate and kid in the title. That all being said, I enjoyed my recent re-watch more than any previous viewing. It’s hard to believe that this Chozen is the same guy from season 3 of Cobra Kai. If nothing else, it’s a reminder that each day is an opportunity to be and do better.
If The Karate Kid 2 was Mr. Miyagi’s story than The Karate Kid 3 belongs to Cobra Kai. Released in 1989, the third and lowest grossing film in the OG karate kid trilogy makes the correct decision to follow the bad guys as closely as Daniel and Mr. Miyagi. Joining Kreese this go-around is the scene-chewing Terry Silver, played with bad intentions and a menacing grin by Thomas Ian Griffith. We are introduced to Silver in classic eighties fashion as he spars with and brutalizes nameless goons while showcasing karate skill exceeding anything we’ve seen in the films outside of Mr. Miyagi. The cigar chomping Silver is asked to do some real acting in seducing Daniel to the dark side. The training sequences between he and Daniel are highlights of the film and a heartbreaking glimpse at Daniel at perhaps his lowest point in the karate kid series. It's no secret that Griffith’s performance as Silver is the reason many enjoy and will revisit this film more than its dreadful Rotten Tomatoes rating would indicate. Speaking of ratings, The Karate Kid 3 is nearly unanimously considered the worst of the original three. I place it slightly ahead of part two and well behind the original. It’s the most cartoonish of the three films and lacks the heart of the 1987 sequel but overall it’s good old fashioned eighties fun. Save for some troubling casual racism in the final scene, Mike Barnes, played by Sean Kanan, is a tremendously effective and truly terrifying foil. I remember thinking as a kid that there is absolutely no way Daniel can defeat this guy. The Cobra Kai triumvirate of Reese, Silver and Barnes carry the film and are far more interesting than anything between Daniel and Mr. Miyagi. The villains always get the best lines. This isn't the first or last film with an antagonist outshining the hero. The Dark Knight comes to mind. Daniel’s only motivation here is to avoid getting his ass kicked. I guess that was his arc in the first film too. Still a classic.