Ring of Fire II: Blood and Steel (1993)

PLOT: A doctor’s fiancee is kidnapped by a ruthless gang and taken to a hide-out deep below Los Angeles. Can he and his friends battle through various underworld gangs to save her, or will they pass out after a massive lunch order of Double-Doubles from In-N-Out Burger?

Director: Richard W. Munchkin
Writers: Richard W. Munchkin, Steve Tymon, Paul Maslak
Cast: Don Wilson, Ian Jacklin, Sy Richardson, Evan Lurie, Dale Jacoby, Maria Ford, Vince Murducco, Eric Lee, Ron Yuan, Gerald Okamura, David Loo




PLOT THICKENER:
The Blackjack Hall of Fame counts mathematicians and computer analysts among its members. Its 2009 inductee also happens to be the director of the 1993 film, Ring of Fire 2: Blood and Steel. So was Richard W. Munchkin’s choice to follow up his 1991 Don Wilson vehicle a gamble? Will the return of Maria Ford as Julie be a total bust? Does the film double up the action of the original and hit you with the whole loaf of kung-fu, or stand by idly and force you to split? Having exhausted my full arsenal of terrible jokes incorporating Blackjack terminology, let’s get to the movie.

In the first installment of the Ring of Fire saga, the filmmakers combined elements of West Side Story with Kickboxer and washed it down with a chaser of racial tension and Zubaz pants. For the sequel, Munchkin and company crib from the Mad Max franchise, The Warriors, and almost every search-and-rescue film you’ve ever seen. The question is not so much whether the sequel improves upon its predecessor. Rather: do I like a movie that shamelessly rips off a lot of fun genre movies more than one which borrows heavily from a musical I was forced to watch during my freshman year of high school?

The last time we saw Johnny Wu (Wilson) and Julie (Ford), he was carrying her out of an arena after her brother accidentally stabbed her with a samurai sword. Their relationship has since evolved into an engagement, and the opening scene finds the lovebirds shopping for a ring. Unfortunately, a group of thieves are pulling a smash-and-grab at that very store and one thug has his eye on Julie’s rock. When she resists, he uses the pimp hand, which is generally inadvisable in the presence of Dr. Wu, the best kickboxing surgeon in cinema history. He puts the jerk through a window but before the gang scatters, Julie is shot. A car chase ensues between the cops and robbers, and one carsplosion and five smashed panels of glass later, we’re off to a good start.

Johnny tends to Julie’s wounds at the hospital just in time for her to be kidnapped by Predator (Lurie), the number-one guy in a gang run by the devious Kalin, played by Ian Jacklin. Following a skirmish at the hospital in which his brother is shot, Kalin gets arrested, vows revenge and Johnny is left to freak out over the disappearance of his fiancee. Kalin’s in police custody for all of about five minutes, as Predator runs the county prison bus off the road and uses his mind bullets to make it explode as the thugs escape to their underground lair (literally).

What do you do when the love of your life gets kidnapped by a bunch of guys who look like they wandered off the set of The Road Warrior? You call your boy Ron Yuan (reprising his role as Li) on his car phone and tell him to assemble the crew. In this case, the crew consists of Li, Kwong (Eric Lee), and the two guys they were fighting to the death in a race war only six weeks ago in Chuck (Murducco) and Brad (Jacoby). It was comforting to see these characters back, but it was a little surreal to see Jacoby as a good guy. He practically made a career out of douchey, Zabka-lite villain roles, and his face-turn felt like bad pro wrestling booking more than the organic result of virtuous actions.

Johnny can’t wait for his buddies because they’re too busy surfing or eating guacamole or some other time-consuming activity common to native Californians, so he goes it alone. Within seconds of entering their underground lair, Johnny is attacked by a bunch of dudes in goalie masks brandishing flash lights. A homeless veteran named Ernest (Richardson) comes to Johnny’s aid before begrudgingly leading him through the hobo underground to where Julie is being held by Kalin. Along the way, they encounter all manner of fighting gangs in weird outfits. There’s the Garbage Gang, a group of rowdies in trash-covered football shoulder pads. The Shadow Warriors do not dress in all black, but rather in colorful outfits with day-glo paint smeared on their faces. The Nightrats are not rat-human hybrids, but guys on rollerblades and skateboards with head-mounted flashlights. Would you believe that the majority of the film’s budget went towards a Russian-built supercomputer used to generate these ingenious naming conventions?

After Johnny and Ernest fight through the various gangs, the trailing Li, Kwong, Brad, and Chuck get the sloppy seconds and do some fighting of their own. This pattern continues all the way to the final showdown, where Kalin and company preside over a cage and a wild and unwashed crowd. It’s never stated what the purpose of the fighting venue is, but we’ll have to assume it’s something to pass the time when you’re living in the Los Angeles sewer system.

A quick note for you burgeoning filmmakers out there: just because you load up on neon wardrobe and flashlights, it doesn’t mean you can skimp on lighting. There were stretches where it was tough to see the movement during action scenes simply because they weren’t lit well enough. Beyond that, Munchkin makes decent use of the locations and the film definitely has a choked, dark, subterranean feel to it. And no, I did not draw that conclusion because I practice autoerotic asphyxiation while watching films to review... although that is an interesting idea for one of those month-long, themed post series.

The story structure of the various “mini-boss” gang fights is a good device for driving up the action quotient. The quality of the fights varies though. During an isolated stretch, Eric Lee puts on the best fight in the movie where he wards off some attackers with a three-section staff. The fights in Kalin’s cage are decent, but they have the same limitations on space and visuals that shooting through the obstacle of chain link fencing always does. Still, everyone gets to show their stuff and the editing was often reminiscent of the Wing Kong/Chang Sing alley fight in Big Trouble in Little China: quick cuts between shots of impacting blows with less attention given to flowy combination exchanges.

The cast of characters is solid. Eric Lee is amusing as Kwong, equal parts nervous wreck and total horndog. Yuan, Murducco, and Jacoby do little to stand out beyond Murducco’s unprompted “LET’S GET NAKED!” line when they encounter a gang of foxy females. Evan Lurie has some decent lines and may have been a more menacing main villain. However, from the ridiculous clothes and accessories (BBQ rib necklace?) to the obvious wig, Jacklin nails his part as Kalin.

The scene that made it for me was a phone call he makes to Johnny at the hospital to deliver his ransom demand of $250,000 in exchange for Julie. She grabs the phone and screams for her lover not to buy the bait. He bops her on the head with the receiver and with a spoken cadence straight out of Pee Wee’s Big Adventure, admonishes her: “I’M TRYING TO USE THE PHONE!” before telling Johnny, “pardon me, your wife was being a bitch.” Amazing.

VERDICT:
At the end of the day, Ring of Fire II: Blood and Steel is an offbeat and enjoyable sequel. It’s less grim in tone and the filmmakers had some fun with the different gangs and their respective wardrobes. It doesn’t quite have me itching for the continued adventures of Dr. Johnny Wu and his merry band of meatheads, but that’s not the goal. At its essence, it’s derivative and disposable DTV action that has its moments. Tune in for Eric Lee hamming it up, some absurd villain performances, and the silly costumes.

AVAILABILITY:
VHS or Instant Download on Amazon, DVD or VHS on EBay.

5 / 7

When B-List Goes Hollywood: Ten Random Appearances by Martial Arts Actors in Mainstream Media

Partly because I have too much free time, but mostly because of this blog (which was more or less born out of having too much free time), I often pore over the filmographies of martial arts b-movie actors to track down films to review. Because of the niche skill-sets that these actors brandish, many of them have done little else but martial arts or action film and television work. Thus, most of my searches reveal no surprises. Every once in a while, though, I’ll stumble across an acting credit that’s unique because of the role the actor is playing, or because of the visibility of the production itself. When an actor jumps from PM Entertainment to an 8 PM prime-time television slot, it’s cause for celebration. Plenty of martial arts b-movie actors have logged screen-time in mainstream film and television productions. Some of these I knew and some were new to me, but compiled below is a short and random list of some of my favorite examples.


Dale Jacoby - Step by Step (1994)
The owner of one of the most incredible early-90s pompadours in action film history had few roles where he didn’t play a raging, Zabka-lite douchebag. So it’s no great surprise that he visited familiar territory for this supporting television role on a 1994 episode of TGIF’s saccharine stepfamily sitcom, Step by Step. Jacoby plays an evil and arrogant karate coach opposite Sasha Mitchell’s Zen-surfer martial artist, Cody, who’s trying to instill the fighting spirit in his nerdy step-cousin. The casting is a little less random when you consider that Jacoby and Mitchell worked together on Albert Pyun’s Kickboxer sequel in 1991.

Chuck Jeffreys - Pootie Tang (2001)
It was a bit of an inevitability that the Shaolin Wushu expert and Bloodmoon co-star would appear on this list. His list of various stunt credits in Hollywood productions is impressive and he’s one of the most prolific American fight coordinators of the modern film age. In a two-decade career that’s found him training Wesley Snipes for sword battles in the Blade films and choreographing fights in Spider-Man, perhaps none of his cinematic contributions were more memorable than selling the awesome power of the belt in the 2001 cult comedy Pootie Tang. Sine your pitty on the runny kine!

Jeff Wincott - The Wire (2008)
Jeff Wincott is probably the most “actorly” of the bunch on this list and has had a ton of mainstream film and television roles (The Invasion and last year’s Unstoppable among them). After combing through his credits, I’d narrowed it down to his role as an undercover "homeless" cop on HBO's The Wire, or his part in 2008’s Lake City, where he plays a menacing drug kingpin who slaps the shit out of Dave Matthews and strangles his balls, striking a mighty blow for jam-band haters everywhere. Odd as that might be, it gets no bigger than the series finale of the best television show in history.

Cynthia Rothrock - Eye for an Eye (1996)
More than any other part listed here, Rothrock’s role as a self-defense instructor is so short and fleeting that you will literally miss it if you blink. A Sally Field revenge thriller is pretty much the last place you’d expect to find a martial arts actor of Rothrock’s stature, but you can’t blame her for taking a break from the Herculean task of carrying Jalal Merhi to watchable movies.

Matthias Hues, Big Top Pee Wee (1988)
If you can find something more random than Matthias Hues running around in a lion-tamer’s outfit acting alongside Kris Kristofferson in this oft-reviled sequel to Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure, I will give you my last can of Crystal Pepsi.

Loren Avedon - In Living Color (1991)
What makes Avedon’s cameo on the legendary Fox sketch-comedy show interesting is not that he plays a redneck cowboy, or even that he has to sell a terrible stomach punch by Damon Wayans (playing hilarious vocabulary manipulator Oswald Bates). Rather, this guest role came shortly after what arguably remains his best and most popular film, The King of the Kickboxers. Avedon shouldn’t feel too bad though; Wayans pilfered his co-star for a role in another mainstream production on this list.

Don “The Dragon” Wilson - Stealing Harvard (2002)
I was ready to put The Dragon down for his role as the gang leader who sets his day-glo goons on Robin in Joel Schumacher’s Batman Forever. However, because the skull make-up turned him nearly unrecognizable, and “gang leader” isn’t quite so strange a part for a martial arts actor, I had to give top prize to his even more random role in the 2002 comedy Stealing Harvard. Wilson counted the late Chris Penn as one of his best friends in Hollywood and plays one of the Reservoir Dogs star’s drug gang thugs. Seeing him as a neon nightmare in a superhero summer blockbuster is pretty cool, but the viewing experience of the Bloodfist star trying to kick Tom Green’s head off while adorned in not much more than flip-flops and boxer shorts is fucking surreal.

Gary Daniels - The Expendables (2010)
There’s nothing unusual about a prolific DTV action star playing a supporting role in a Hollywood action production. What makes Gary Daniels’s role in the 2010 action throwback The Expendables unique is that Sylvester Stallone had literally dozens of actors he could have used to stoke the flames of action b-film nostalgia. While most of Gary’s action scenes in the film fell victim to choppy editing and the dreaded Hollywood shaky-cam, his inclusion suggests that Stallone has at least some admiration for DTV action of the 1990s. This might portend more interesting casting choices when you consider the rumor that Stallone’s vision for the sequel will be a “love letter to martial arts.” GASP.

Billy Blanks - The Last Boy Scout (1991)
I apologize to those of you who have been unable to fit this film into your viewing schedule at some point during the last 20 years, but Blanks might have the most impactful screen time of all the parts listed here. As star football running-back Billy Cole, Blanks has the joy of doing a bunch of PCP at halftime during a game and then shooting several would-be tacklers with a firearm during a breakaway running route in the film’s opening. After scoring a touchdown, he blows his brains out. Umm... Tae-Bo anyone?

 

Jerry Trimble - Heat (1995)
In his film debut, champion kickboxer Jerry Trimble played a mulleted drug dealer who gets his face burned with a space heater in The King of the Kickboxers. Five years later, he had a speaking part in some marginally successful crime drama directed by Michael Mann, and starring actors like Robert De Niro, Al Pacino, Val Kilmer, Jon Voight, and Natalie Portman. Um...so...yeah. Jerry Trimble rules this list forever.

I know that I’ve missed a ton of equally deserving parts, so feel free to contribute your favorites in the comments below.

Ring of Fire (1991)

PLOT:
Two groups of kickboxing meatheads are at war over bragging rights and ethnic pride. Amidst the chaos, romance begins to blossom between Don “The Dragon” Wilson and Maria Ford. Will the gang violence tear them apart? Will casual racism in Zubaz pants win out over vengeance in leather jackets? Does Maria Ford get naked or does she use a body double? These and more rhetorical questions answered henceforth.




Directors: Rick Jacobson & Richard W. Munchkin
Writers: Richard W. Munchkin, Jake Jacobs, Steve Tymon
Cast: Don “The Dragon” Wilson, Steven Vincent Leigh, Maria Ford, Dale Jacoby, Vince Murdocco, Gary Daniels, Eric Lee, Ron Yuan

PLOT THICKENER:
Omnia vincit amor: love conquers all. A phrase to live by, a song by Deep Purple, a horrible cliche, it is most commonly invoked to explain away the various problems and hindrances that accompany intimate relationships. Ring of Fire, a tale of kickboxing and forbidden love, encapsulates this age-old adage and a great deal more. While love yields an endless amount of good vibes, it can also kick you in the face, slap you during a funeral, and stab you with a samurai sword.

Enter Johnny Woo, played by Don “The Dragon” Wilson. As a doctor, he takes pride in healing the sick and injured. Recently, his cousin Terry (Leigh) and his social circle are supplying plenty of the latter. They compete in kickboxing matches on a regular basis with other local martial artists, and the tension between two distinct factions has boiled over like an unwatched cauldron of breast milk. One group is led by Terry and is predominantly of Chinese ancestry. They’re a fun-loving group of guys: there’s Terry, the strapping handsome dude who scores chicks, the wise-ass played by Ron Yuan, and martial-arts legend Eric Lee as the guy who loves to drink vodka straight. In other words: they’re your best friends from college! Minus the guy with the Dreamcast and the four-foot bong.

Their opposition is a group of monosyllabic whiteboys led by No Retreat, No Surrender alumni Dale Jacoby, playing a cocky prick named Brad. Filling out the ranks are Bud (ponytail-era Gary Daniels) and the perpetually pussywhipped Chuck (Murdocco). He’s engaged to Brad’s sister, Julie, and constantly deals with her whiny concerns about his fighting and the risk of injury. He also constantly deals with the fact she’s played by DTV hottie Maria Ford, who brings the 80s hotness like Mount St. Helens. The Aquanet, acid wash jeans, and belly shirts were out in full force. (On Ford, not the volcano).

The root of the hostility between the two crews is never really divulged, so we’re left to assume it stems from competitive spirit. Brad adds fuel to the fire by making cruel remarks about Asians at every opportunity and Terry’s crew is too prideful to let the digs go unpunished. As a result, the fists fly in a number of skirmishes, run-ins, and showdowns. Eventually, the leaders decide to settle things with a two-man battle. The training montages that precede the hyped fight between Terry and Brad leave a trail of shattered inanimate objects in their wake. There’s a pretty killer sequence with Brad slamming his flaming fist through a stack of dry ice, so I’m pretty sure Steven Vincent Leigh must have lost a bet to get stuck ... punching apples. There’s absolutely nothing cool or visually appealing about this. Worse yet, it’s a waste of perfectly good produce. I love apples.

Chuck’s involvement in the underground fights and the ongoing gang rivalry leads him to neglect Julie and she takes refuge at a local Chinese restaurant, where she crosses paths with Johnny. Their flirting turns into casual dating, and there’s a way goofy scene with Johnny showing up to a costume ball dressed as the Phantom of the Opera. As he and Julie exchange saucy glances across the dance floor, I couldn’t help but think about what other costumes Johnny might have considered. Frankenstein’s monster? Wolfman? Pregnant nun?

As the conflict between the two fighting crews escalates, Johnny is drawn into the fray and a persistent detective takes notice of the violence. Relationships are tested, customs are ignored, bad advice is given, and racks are unsheathed. In the only two love scenes in the film, Jacobson and Munchkin flash their art-house tendencies by intercutting footage of fighting and sex. The film student in me observes the visual blend of the fighters’ clenched fists and Julie’s sand-dollar areolas as an effective linking of sex and violence which demonstrates the duality of humans as both lovers and fighters. The film fan in me is shirtless, sweaty, and eating fistfuls of Fruity Pebbles from the box while watching freaky boobs and dudes hitting each other in the face.

Unfortunately, the fight choreography is pretty uninspired, which is a real shame considering the on-screen talent involved. Most fights are plagued by guys standing around getting hit and then reversing position; even in cases where there’s some drama behind the fisticuffs, there’s little to no visual flow at all. However, action movies are so often tagged with titles that have nothing to do with the plot, so I have to give credit to the filmmakers for putting an actual ring of fire in the film.

VERDICT:
This was the first Don Wilson movie I ever saw. More important, it was the first movie containing gratuitous nudity that I ever viewed on my grandmother’s premium cable package. So for these reasons, it will always be a sentimental favorite. There are a few goofy moments which add touches of flavor, and Wilson and Ford have a reasonable amount of chemistry as an on-screen pair. Leigh is definitely the best performer in the bunch and Jacoby is his usual unmenacing, goofy self. However, the fight scenes are a little too clunky, and the romance plot is a bit too generic to consider this anything other than your below-average facekicking escapade.

AVAILABILITY:
Easily trackdownable via Amazon or Netflix.

5 / 7

No Retreat, No Surrender (1986)

PLOT:
Ostracized by his peers and estranged from his father, a teenaged Bruce Lee fanatic struggles to fit in after moving to Seattle. Following a series of misfortunes, his idol crosses into the living world to teach him how to harness his chi and stir shit up. With this newfound wisdom and a burgeoning friendship, Jason confronts a looming threat and learns the true meaning of “No retreat, no surrender.”

Director: Corey Yuen
Writer: Keith W. Strandberg
Cast: Kurt McKinney, Jean-Claude Van Damme, J.W. Fails, Tim Baker, Kent Lipham, Dale Jacoby, Ron Pohnel, Pete Cunningham, Tai Chung Kim

PLOT THICKENER:
Throughout their time in Los Angeles, life was good for the Stillwells. Tom Stillwell, played by Timothy D. Baker, owned and operated a karate school in Sherman Oaks. His son, Jason (McKinney), was an overeager martial-arts trainee with an unhealthy obsession with Bruce Lee.

Their lives are forever changed when the senior Stillwell is paid a hostile visit by well-dressed goons following a karate class. After refusing to join their evil syndicate comprised of three people, Tom attempts to defuse the tension, stating, “karate is not to be used aggressively.” The baddies reject this moralist plea and come out swinging. Ivan the Russian, naturally played by the Belgian-born Van-Damme, breaks Tom’s leg then pie-faces our young hero with all the force of someone pushing an actual pie into an actual face. Jason has designs on revenge, but the attack reduces his father to a quivering bag of cowardice. Fearing for the safety of his loved ones, he abandons his dojo and moves the family to Seattle.

While unpacking during the move, Jason befriends the charismatic R.J. Madison. The chronic multi-tasker can dribble a basketball while riding a bike and skateboard while listening to rap music. But only moments into one of R.J.’s freestyle raps/break-dance routines, Jason learns of his horrible affliction—anytime he performs advanced dance moves or falls from a shelving unit, he turns Caucasian.

In each other, R.J. and Jason find a reflection of their common awkwardness; while one uses jokes and rapping to cope, the other uses a karate style looser than MC Hammer pants. And so the credo, “no retreat, no surrender!” becomes their battle cry. They use it before having rumbles outside of burger joints and after late-night talks about the fleeting nature of curfews. Does such liberal application of the slogan render it meaningless? Probably.

Outside this bio-dome of good vibes, a pack of snarling Johnny Lawrence wannabes awaits. There’s Dean “Shooting Star” Ramsey [Dale Jacoby], Seattle’s most underappreciated assistant karate instructor and total jerk. The crew's resident obnoxious oaf, Scott [Kent Lipham], has beef with Jason because of his Bruce Lee freakdom and with R.J. because of ... I'm actually not sure. When he’s not eating cake off the hood of a car, he’s eating chips while window-washing and buying friendship with burgers. The running theme: Scott makes poor nutritional choices. Both of these scrubs play second fiddle to the pack’s alpha dog, Ian “Whirlwind” Reilly. He would seem to have it all: abundant chest hair, his own karate school, championship glory, and the admiration of the entire Pacific Northwest. While his plastic trophy marks him as a champion, his oft-furrowed brow says, “as a child I was forced to participate in Satanic rituals.”

Scott and Dean are constantly harshing Jason’s mellow, starting with the latter's failed attempt to join Reilly's karate school. While Ian is away on a championship kickboxing tour, Dean is performing his duty as assistant instructor. While initially amenable to this newest applicant, he becomes enraged by Scott's news that Jason has been talking shit about Seattle-brand karate. So he employs Frank, his most advanced student, to fight the outsider during an exhibition in front of the whole class. Racial differences not withstanding, what follows looks a lot like the Globetrotters versus the Generals; after a thorough schooling, Jason runs out the school with R.J. in tow. Some might say that they surrendered, then retreated.

However, the worst example of Dean's treachery occurs at a birthday pool party for Ian’s sister Kelly, who just so happens to be Jason’s main squeeze. This relationship proves the latest thorn in Dean’s half-shirted side. When he discovers the two kissing after Jason presents her with a birthday rabbit (?), he and Scott scheme to humiliate him. It should be noted that Jason's the only weirdo in a shirt and tie at a pool party, which is humiliating enough. And he's wearing cowboy boots. To add to the misery, Scott throws fabric-staining punch on Jason’s shirt and flings frosted cake at him. When our hero tries to retaliate, Dean beats the crap out of him. Thoroughly emasculated, Jason storms out as an angered Kelly slaps Dean and chases after her knight in shining cowboy boots. Infuriated by what he perceives as a set-up, he peels away in his wood-paneled station wagon and leaves Kelly in tears.

Instead of abusing drugs or writing bad poetry like a normal teenager in turmoil, Jason deals with this latest trauma by going to Bruce Lee’s grave and crying for help. When he returns home, his father denounces his son’s brawling ways and lack of punctuality. Jason challenges him on his lack of manhood and Old-Man Stillwell gesticulates repeatedly at the ground, his house, the garage, the station wagon, and even himself while shouting parental decrees. (When preparing for the level of rage required in this scene, Baker, no doubt, thought of his measly paycheck).

The conflict culminates with Tom tearing Jason’s Bruce Lee poster cleanly in half. Instead of fighting back against his tyrannical father, he whimpers like a child on his way to the doctor's office for an afternoon of inoculations and blood work, and runs off into the night.

After jogging for about three miles to R.J.’s house for help (still in cowboy boots), he sets up what remains of his training equipment in an abandoned house and falls asleep. During his slumber, the ghost of a guy that vaguely looks like Bruce Lee to those who can’t tell the difference between Asian people crosses over into the material world and offers his services. In a promotional placement Diet Coke would probably rather forget, Lee favorably compares his knowledge of the martial-arts to the superior flavor of the popular cola. Over the coming weeks, Jason learns many techniques useful for both fighting and training montages.

The first test of Jason's freshly buffed skills comes against a band of alcoholic thugs who've been harassing his father at the local watering hole, where he works as a bartender. (Bartending and karate licenses are interchangeable in most states.) The booze-hounds quietly lurk in the parking lot as Tom leaves after his day shift, and commence the beat-down just as Jason arrives to pick his father up from work. He easily dispatches the uncoordinated winos and sends them scurrying into the streets, where their search for hooch resumes. The display of self-sacrifice helps Tom finally understand that fighting is a necessary life skill, like personal finance. With their relationship upgraded from angry and cold to emotional and awkward, father and son walk off in pursuit of the challenges that lay ahead.

And wouldn't you know it. The same syndicate that attacked the Stillwells in L.A. now threatens to take over Reilly’s Seattle karate school. The criminals agree to a team fight to decide the fate of the Evergreen State’s karate legacy. Team Reilly includes Dean and Frank, with Scott on strangely homoerotic massage duty. The opposition relies upon just one man: Ivan the Evil Russian. He makes short work of Frank and beats the living daylights out of Dean. Reilly manages to put up a fight, but in a stunning reversal of the Deep Blue computer vs. Kasparov chess match, this time it's the Russian who cheats.

As Ivan chokes Reilly with a chain, Kelly attempts to save her brother by clubbing his attacker with a wooden stool. The Russian grabs her by the hair, prompting a furious Jason to burst from the packed crowd and enter the ring to fulfill all of our teenage martial-arts film dreams. I would hate to spoil such an obvious ending, but you know where it goes from here.

VERDICT:
No Retreat No Surrender will be remembered as an artifact of pure 1980s cinematic cheese. It's also Jean Claude Van Damme's American film debut, and this is significant; his very next role in 1988's Bloodsport launched him to stardom. It's packed with poor editing, glorious 80s clothing, and some bad line delivery, but it also marked the first genuine attempt by a Hong Kong action director to translate that style in a Western production for American audiences. Followed by No Retreat, No Surrender 2: Raging Thunder.

6.5 / 7