This has long been one of my least favorite movies of all time. I was lured in by Netflix's promise of a philosophical kung fu film, and found neither philosophy nor kung fu. Thirteen years later, I decided to give it a second chance. Was it really as bad as I remember? Definitely.
What makes this worse than any other direct-to-video martial arts claptrap? You can see Gary Daniels' aggressively wooden acting in scores of direct-to-video flicks. In most of them, he does more fighting than talking. In this movie, he does precious little fighting. When he talks, he does it in an accent strange enough to render "I know" into a four-syllable phrase.
For about sixty percent of the run time we wallow in the suffering of Paradise Valley, a town of no importance whatsoever. We get to see scene after scene after scene of Lord Shin's doughy professional wrestlers brutalizing innocent villagers. The villagers expect the hero to come and save them, but he is too busy doing nothing. He wanders around aimlessly, trying to escape his destiny, with the exact same expression on his face.
The fight scenes are generally confined to the last third of the movie. Kenshiro finally gets off his ass when he sees thugs carrying a picture of his girlfriend. He's too noble to fight for the lives of villagers. But, if you try to bang his girl, he's out for blood! The most exciting scene in the film features an army of thugs lining up to get kicked by Kenshiro. However, the director's not content to let you just enjoy the action. Instead, he keeps cutting away to meanie bad guys mumbling about rape or progress or some other nonsense.
Parts of this movie are schlock enough to laugh at. However, the drawn out sequences with Bat and Lynn and Paradise Valley are a bear to sit through. If you're going to watch it, skip everything but the fight scenes.
What makes this worse than any other direct-to-video martial arts claptrap? You can see Gary Daniels' aggressively wooden acting in scores of direct-to-video flicks. In most of them, he does more fighting than talking. In this movie, he does precious little fighting. When he talks, he does it in an accent strange enough to render "I know" into a four-syllable phrase.
For about sixty percent of the run time we wallow in the suffering of Paradise Valley, a town of no importance whatsoever. We get to see scene after scene after scene of Lord Shin's doughy professional wrestlers brutalizing innocent villagers. The villagers expect the hero to come and save them, but he is too busy doing nothing. He wanders around aimlessly, trying to escape his destiny, with the exact same expression on his face.
The fight scenes are generally confined to the last third of the movie. Kenshiro finally gets off his ass when he sees thugs carrying a picture of his girlfriend. He's too noble to fight for the lives of villagers. But, if you try to bang his girl, he's out for blood! The most exciting scene in the film features an army of thugs lining up to get kicked by Kenshiro. However, the director's not content to let you just enjoy the action. Instead, he keeps cutting away to meanie bad guys mumbling about rape or progress or some other nonsense.
Parts of this movie are schlock enough to laugh at. However, the drawn out sequences with Bat and Lynn and Paradise Valley are a bear to sit through. If you're going to watch it, skip everything but the fight scenes.
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