Angelfist (1993)

PLOT: When her kickboxing covert agent sister is mysteriously murdered in the Philippines, an American cop heads overseas to bring the killers to justice. Contrary to popular belief, justice is not a hip upscale Manila restaurant, but rather a fair and reasonable application of law.

Director: Cirio Santiago
Writer: Anthony L. Greene
Cast: Cat Sassoon, Melissa Moore, Michael Shaner, Roland Dantes, Cristina Portugal, Tony Carreon, Henry Strzalkowski, Joseph Zucchero, Jim Moss






PLOT THICKENER
There are few performances in film that can be described as truly chameleonic. Few characters are conceptualized in such a way as to grant us access to the various layers of their personalities. Denis Lavant’s Monsieur Oscar in Holy Motors comes to mind, as does Joaquin Phoenix in The Master. After viewing the Corman-produced, Santiago-directed 1993 action film, Angelfist, I think we can add Cat Sassoon and her character of Kat Lang to that same elite group. Over the course of roughly 80 minutes, she encompasses a wide variety of flavors and colors. She’s a cop, she’s a kickboxer. She’s white as a sheet, she’s tanned to the color of an indoor basketball. She’s dressed in her Muay Thai best, she looks like a backup dancer for Paula Abdul.

A rugged and experienced cop, Kat is cleaning up the mean streets of Los Angeles when she receives word that her kickboxing sister, Kristie (Birzag) has been murdered in Manila. Kristie captured the murder of a U.S. military man on film, and a terrorist group called the Black Brigade responded a little harshly. One airplane transition later, and Kat is knocking down doors and beating up random Filipinos in a search for answers. The local Manila police are useless and paranoid, and the U.S. embassy is no help at all due to constant protests and pressure from the local population.

With the assistance of a shallow himbo nicknamed Alcatraz (Shaner), Kat talks her way into a meeting with her sister’s former fight trainer, Bayani (Dantes). Only after winning his respect during a sparring contest is she able to set the wheels in motion for a break in the case. In order to uncover more solid leads to chase, she enters the local ladies karate tournament in which her sister took part. Upon joining their ranks, she not only catches the attention of her sister’s friend, Lorda (Moore), but also last year’s champion and secret brigadier, the standoffish, Bontoc (Portugal). Will Kat avenge her sister's death? Who are her true enemies and allies? Why do the fight organizers call this thing a "kubate" instead of a "kumite?" And why does Kat's skin tone vary so wildly by time of day and lighting? 

So, about those action scenes. The tournament fighting is marked by extremely repetitive strikes and an almost complete disregard for defense and blocking. Moore and Sassoon, in particular, are guilty of awkward fight stances in which they curl their arms up close to their bodies while kicking, almost in an effort to conceal something -- a strange choice given the sheer amount of toplessness throughout much of the film. Cirio makes sure to combine said toplessness with an actual fight, putting Kat in the crosshairs of would-be assassins who raid Alcatraz’s apartment as she’s fresh out of the shower. In the absence of technical sheen, the stunt players sell HUGE for Sassoon and others. Enemies go screaming and flailing through walls and tables. Any piece of furniture that isn’t nailed down gets incorporated and smashed to pieces.

Sassoon gets all of the bits to put her in position to win our hearts and look awesome. Our introduction to the Kat character involves her jumping through a window with an uzi to waste a bunch of drug dealers. She wins the respect of Bayani by whooping him in an eskrima sparring match. She also takes a three-story fall from an apartment window that sees her smash through multiple levels of scaffolding to the street below. No one will ever mistake her for Moon Lee or Karen Sheperd in terms of ballsy action scenes, but I’ll put it this way: I’d wear a t-shirt with the visage of a growling Kat Lang for virtually any occasion. Even if it was a tank top!

It’s impossible to discuss this film without noting the untimely death of its star. Sassoon had a purported five-picture contract with Roger Corman, but was unable to see it through (I’m still anxious to see her Bloodfist franchise appearances). Discarding the minor transgressions of occasional duckface and dated wardrobe, most would agree that whether it’s an awkward love scene, a rompy fight, or long shots of her smoking a cigarette, Sassoon brings a palpable zest to the film. She’s clearly committed to this role and she got the memo about its tone; that effort is observable and lasting. Given the timing of her death in 2002, it’s difficult to say whether she would have weathered the erosion of the DTV action market that affected so many other stars in the early 2000s. Still, Angelfist is a unique time capsule that features Sassoon at her best, which is to say fierce, tanned, and mysteriously shiny.

Knowing that Corman took an active interest in creating “feminist exploitation films” -- using female protagonists as both asskickers and objects of lust -- I’m interested to know if viewers feel that Angelfist achieves this odd label. I’m undecided. The ladies here fight and snarl and save the day, but they also stand around awkwardly and navigate detachable shower heads over their nude bodies during inexplicable transition scenes. They’re terrorized by captors and pushed bare chest-first into blocks of ice, but they also deliver dialogue that earns the film a passing grade on the Bechdel test. Is Bontoc considered a villain because she’s part of a terrorist network, or because she never disrobes? There’s some serious contradictions at work here and I’m frankly not intelligent enough to sort it out. Maybe the Internet’s first aspirational expert in the subgenre of nude kickboxing movies, Keith over at Teleport City, can render a decision on this. Inquiring minds want to know.

VERDICT
Despite its flaws -- acting and originality among them -- Angelfist is a very entertaining film. It observes the loose but effective “action beat” rule where *something* interesting happens approximately every 10 minutes. (Even if it does nothing whatsoever to push the story forward or distract us from the arbitrary nudity). Despite her limitations as a peformer, Sassoon is ferocious and convincing as an action movie heroine, and the stunt team makes everyone look good. A fine effort from Cirio Santiago and something of an unheralded gem from the Concorde-New Horizons canon.

AVAILABILITY
Angelfist is at the ready on DVD or VHS.

4 / 7

Under the Gun (1995)

PLOT: Over the course of a single evening, a nightclub owner is thrown into a pressure cooker of maladies: gangsters, corrupt police, drugs, marital problems, double-crosses, a red-eye flight to Mexico, and a really persistent pimp. Fortunately, all of these issues can be resolved through kickboxing.

Director: Matthew George
Writer: Matthew George
Cast: Richard Norton, Kathy Long, Robert Bruce, Peter Lindsey, David Serafin, Ron Vreeken, Roland Dantes


PLOT THICKENER:
Multitasking has almost always been trumpeted as a virtue. Whether it’s attending a conference call while manipulating pivot tables in Excel, or drinking a gin and tonic and smoking a cigar while getting a lap dance, multitasking allegedly makes life easier and more efficient. Is the ability to complete several tasks during the same time frame ever a bad thing? If you’re a disgraced hockey player turned nightclub owner named Frank Torrance, abso-fucking-lutely.

Played by legendary Australian facekicker Richard Norton, Torrance has a lot on his dinner plate: the baked potato of uncertainty, the skirt steak of deception, and the grilled asparagus of bad luck. His backstory is not entirely uncommon: he was a successful pro hockey player sentenced to a year in prison after refusing to testify in a teammate’s drug trial. Following incarceration, he utilized his business acumen to open a nightclub backed by capital from the Italian mob and is now forced to run errands for them, usually drug deals. If I recall correctly, this describes nearly half of the NHLPA 93’ roster for the Sega Genesis.

The film opens with Frank closing a heroin deal with a crew of Triads led by Filipino action legend Roland Dantes and things quickly go awry. After pummeling the Asian gang members in a tornado of splinters and China White, Torrance walks away from the wreckage with the drug money and the stash. His plan is simple: screw over the Triads and his mafia backers, steal the drug money, falsify a purchase ledger so he can sell his club to an interested buyer, and oversee completion of the club’s expansive renovations in time to board a plane to Mexico with his wife later that night. As fate would have it though, there are a few sugary bumps along the road in this cakewalk.

Since the club opened, Torrance has had his old hockey teammate Harry (Lindsey) on staff as head of security. To repay this compassion from a guy who did a prison stint over his drug scandal, Harry has devolved into a stuttering and aloof junkie. So despite the mutual loyalty, it’s no great surprise that Torrance hires a fellow ex-con named Tom (Serafin) who expresses interest in working as a bouncer. Can he be trusted? In an effort to save time on the background check and payroll set-up, Torrance instead kicks his ass to test his mettle and Tom passes with flying colors. This was practically the same hiring process at Papa Gino’s when I was 15 years old.

Meanwhile, a businessman named Linpow pays a surprise visit to the club with his accountant in tow, and they want to close the deal to buy the property. Only problem? Frank’s accountant has the business ledger and has gone missing. To stall the proceedings, Torrance entertains his company with a premium blend of booze and a blonde, gyrating woman.

Unsurprisingly, the surprises don’t end there. Triad enforcers come to the club looking for revenge and the stolen drug money, the gyrating woman’s pimp gets progressively more agitated, and an old police friend named Lisa Krause (Long) shows up to warn Frank about a corrupt cop with a vendetta (and a swanky eye-patch -- yarrrrrr!) Inevitably, all of these elements boil over in a climactic goulash of bullets and blood.

Martial-arts film plots in the West are notorious for being either riddled with cliches or needlessly convoluted. Rather uniquely, George takes the most direct path to both: in combining so many cliches he achieves convolution. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing because he weaves the different threads together well and the film’s pace kept me invested throughout the runtime. In keeping the plot points fairly shallow, George is able to avoid getting bogged down for too long in any one of them, and he uses the action very effectively to flesh out the film.

It goes without saying that I like my action like I like my women: consistent, creative, and extremely violent. That said, despite the fact that it goes without saying, Under the Gun is one of the hottest women I’ve seen. At least this week. The action quotient runs high and Norton brings a ton of experience to the table in choreographing each fight sequence. While most of the other actors are bulkier and therefore not as quick, Norton and Long still put their skills to good use and shine. Norton in particular has some choice moments using props like mops, pipes, and lamps to fight off enemies. There’s even a portion of a fight in the club’s alleyway where Norton predates a set-piece used in Ong-Bak by a good eight years. After walking through a puddle of freshly-spilled cooking oil, he voluntarily puts his feet into a burning fire and starts fire-kicking the shit out of his adversaries.

Norton isn’t all flash and fire, though. I’ve admittedly not seen a ton of Richard Norton starring vehicles outside of his work with Cirio H. Santiago where he played a brooding loner in various post-apocalyptic wastelands. Elsewhere, he’s been cast as the gwailo villain, one half of a tandem, or a supporting character in an action ensemble cast. Under the Gun is very much Norton’s movie though, and it gives him a chance to show off some humorous touches and acting chops. When the scene requires it, his demeanor fluctuates from sarcastic to serious, frustrated to exhausted, enraged to relieved. He also strikes a blow for every consumer burned by shitty airline service by first expressing agitation (“Bitch!”) then anger (“Fucking bitch!”) to a snooty customer service rep. He’s not going to win any Oscars for his dramatic skills, but Norton’s Frank Torrance is a more fully-formed character than we’re used to seeing from him specifically and martial-arts films in general. For an authoritative lead performance from Richard Norton, this film is a great place to start.

Did I mention he kicks a dude while his shoes are on fire?

VERDICT:
In the end, Under the Gun is the portrayal of one man for whom the ability to multitask ultimately betrays him. If he had instead renovated his club on Monday and Tuesday, then sold the club on Wednesday, and fucked over the gangs on Thursday before flying to Mexico later that night, he could avoided such an action-packed mess. He also could have taken advantage of Thursday airfare rates, which are typically cheaper than flying on Fridays. Lesson learned here? Don’t procrastinate.

AVAILABILITY:
In permanent "Save" limbo on Netflix, but this shouldn't cost you more than $10 on Amazon.

5 / 7

Live by the Fist (1993)

PLOT:
Ex- Navy SEAL John Merill is imprisoned in the Philippines for a crime he didn’t commit. Upon incarceration, he experiences the horrors of the Filipino prison system, which combines rampant racism and police corruption with a frightening lack of adobo chicken. (Delicious, by the way).

Director: Cirio H. Santiago
Writer: Charles Philip Moore
Cast: Jerry Trimble, George Takei, Vic Diaz, Ted Markland, Roland Dantes, Laura Albert, Romy Diaz


PLOT THICKENER:
In Transparency International’s annual Corruption Perception Index list, the Republic of the Philippines was ranked 134th out of 178 countries surveyed. For perspective on this, if corruption came in overly elaborate ice cream flavors, the Philippines would be Dark Chocolate Peanut Butter Cup Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough ice cream. This is not to say the country is unsafe or undeserving of your tourist dollar. Just make sure you don’t end up in Filipino prison -- that place is like Dark Chocolate Peanut Butter Cup Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough ice cream with Gummy Bears.

Because of his ability to churn out virtually any type of genre film, Cirio H. Santiago has endeared himself to exploitation film fans for all eternity; he’s done Vietnam war films, blaxploitation films, martial arts films, and post-apocalyptic action films. In Live by the Fist, Santiago includes all the character ingredients integral to a compelling prison action movie: a corrupt warden, played by Santiago regular Vic Diaz; dueling gangs cut along ethnic lines; and the wise prison elder, played by George Takei. All of them factor heavily in the fate of the Bolera Prison Colony’s newest resident, American longshoreman and ex-military man John Merill.

After he stops a woman from getting raped at a shipping yard by a gang of thugs (only to watch her get killed by them anyway) Merill gets cold-cocked and the goons plant the bloody knife on him. He’s convicted and arrives to prison a mostly innocent man, but Warden Acosta (Diaz) has heard that song before, and he doesn’t like it. (He’s more of a Paul Anka fan). A cranky old fellow, his only joy in life comes from his lizard terrarium, his samurai swords, and a swanky tiger tapestry.

Since Merill killed a thug named Chavez who had friends on the inside, a Filipino faction led by Alvarez (Romy Diaz) wants to kill him. The constant need to defend himself draws unwanted attention from the security staff, who regard Merill as a nuisance and a troublemaker. While he has relatively low stature as a “whiteboy,” slightly less as an American, and even less as someone who wears a sharktooth necklace, he has fighting skills unmatched by any other inmates. For this reason, the caucasian contingent wants him to join their crew. Led by an ex-Navy man named Sacker (Markland), these trashy whiteboys do the same things they were probably doing before prison: smoking dope, drinking moonshine, and giving the Asian population a really hard time for being Asian. Merill rebuffs their recruitment efforts and prevents Sacker from beating on an innocent old man; as a result he’s targeted by yet another group of assholes.

Despite his lone wolf status, Merill isn’t entirely without acquaintances. While he and other prisoners break up rocks on what appears to be the set of Dune Warriors, Stryker, and Equalizer 2000, a younger Filipino inmate attends to them with a cask of water. In time, he and Merill even grow comfortable enough to have a mildly homoerotic water fight. Speaking of fights, Merill’s cell-mate fucking hates them. Played by Star Trek legend and television veteran George Takei, Uncle Coronado is the prison’s conscience and having noted various abuses over the years, believes the inmates should be fighting the system instead of each other. An avid reader, he’s soaked up the prison’s law book collection and has been furtively writing letters to a human rights organization for assistance. He and Merill befriend each other, though Merill isn’t interested in the plight of the prisoners or the rampant internal corruption so much as he’s obsessed with getting the fuck out of Filipino prison.

Throughout the story, there’s a lot of backstabbing, fighting, unlikely bedfellows, and sweat. (The latter two are unrelated, by the way). Takei does what he can with the material he’s given and turns in a solid performance marked by downtrodden rage. Character actor Ted Markland is reasonably dickish as Sacker and sports the best skullet this side of Hulk Hogan. Vic Diaz is wonderfully sleazy as the corrupt warden and Romy Diaz is equally sleazy as gang honcho Alvarez. Though he’s dubbed, he has some incredible facial mannerisms aided by a supremely bushy moustache.

Wisely, Santiago chose not to go down the road of challenging American History X for “most brutal rape scene set in a prison shower.” Partly because he’d already satisfied the attempted rape quota in the film’s first scene, but mostly because Jerry Trimble is a much better fighter than Edward Norton, and therefore better at not getting raped. However, there is a fight scene set in the showers that was every bit as revolting as forcible sodomy. Merill uses common sense by wearing shoes to the washroom, only to have some assholes throw him into the shower’s draining trough. You remember that trough in college? Snots, pubes, ass-water, etc. -- shit was nasty! I would hope Merill asked for some bacitracin from the prison’s medic after swimming in that filth.

Despite the title of the film, Trimble does a great deal more kicking than fisting … err, punching. While the fight scenes are well-shot and the stuntmen make Trimble look good, the choreography on the whole is a touch repetitive. There are really no other fighters on Trimble’s level so we’re treated to him dominating revolving groups of henchmen in virtually every action scene, save for one. Toward the end of the film, Trimble crosses paths with the prison’s main guard, played by Filipino b-movie actor Roland Dantes. While many may be unfamiliar with Dantes’s work (myself included), his career was dotted with several choice action roles highlighting his expertise in arnis, the Filipino martial art of stick-fighting. Dantes breaks the sticks out against Trimble’s kicks but there’s not much to write home about; the visual impact of stick-fighting has its limitations, especially when filmed in low-light on a Santiago budget.

Last, many great films are further elevated by their respective musical scores; David Shire’s piano work on 1974’s The Conversation and Anton Karas’s zither-based score for 1949’s The Third Man immediately come to mind. I would be hard pressed to exclude Nicolas Rivera’s electric guitar score for Live by the Fist from these same distinguished annals of film history. He uniquely bends each composition to the onscreen drama: there are confrontational electric guitars for the fight scenes, morose electric guitars for the death scenes, brooding electric guitars for suspenseful scenes, and despondent electric guitars for the sad, emotional scenes. Anyone who’s ever said that that the human condition can’t be adequately illustrated through the sound of squealing electric guitars has never seen Live by the Fist.

VERDICT:
The first of three collaborations between Trimble and Santiago, Live by the Fist satisfies many of the basic tenets of the b-level martial arts film: a lot of fight scenes, character actor screen presence, an entertaining supporting cast, and fairly awful production value. Somehow, it makes for a reasonably engaging film despite its obvious limitations. At a tidy 77 minutes, you could certainly do worse, though I was a bit disappointed that Trimble dropped the mullet for this one. For his more fierce follicle performances, seek out The Master or King of the Kickboxers.

AVAILABILITY:
Readily available via Amazon and Netflix.

5.5 / 7