Dragon Fury (1995)

PLOT: In the future, a mysterious disease is wiping out the human population. A violent, fascist medical dictatorship is making millions in profit despite their completely ineffective cure serum. One brave warrior must travel backwards through time to undo their misdeeds. Based on the epic GlaxoSmithKline fan-fiction novel of the same name.

Director: David Heavener
Writer: David Heavener
Cast: Robert Chapin, TJ Storm, Richard Lynch, Chona Jason, Rick Tain, Chuck Loch, Sean P. Donahue


PLOT THICKENER
Cinematically speaking, time travel is a tough subject to pull off. There are almost always plot holes or flimsy layers of scientific logic that beg explanation but can’t be adequately articulated on screen without coming off as ham-handed or expository. The universe of Back to the Future handled it well enough, and 2004’s Primer was an interesting exercise in how the fabric of the universe could be bent on a micro-budget. David Heavener’s 1995 film, Dragon Fury takes a slightly different approach by skirting any question you could have about the logic underpinning its science fiction elements. When you ask how the time machine works, someone gets topless. When you ask why characters are behaving in a particular way, someone gets decapitated. When you ask how time travel will affect people and events, this film hands you an aspirin for the future headache that will occur from going into the past. Of course.

Mason (Chapin) is a rogue warrior in a near-future dystopia who trusts no one but his girlfriend, Regina (Jason), and his close friend, the eccentric doctor, Milton (Loch). The latter has recently uncovered an evil plot from the past that explains the dire state of the present. And he has the brittle newspaper clippings to prove it! Apparently, an organization called the AAMA manufactured some disease in some lab some time in the late 1990s and killed a whistleblowing doctor before the truth got out. Since that time, they’ve been making serious dough by distributing a placebo serum that does nothing to curb the spread of the disease. These big-pharma buttholes are led by “chief medical dictator” Vestor (Lynch) and his band of merry men called the Dragons. Mason was trained as a Dragon and managed to escape before being completely brainwashed, but their treachery haunts him on the regular.

After some intense discussion (<5 minutes) Mason wants Milton to send him to the past to fetch the real cure to save humanity. Milton obliges, gives Mason an aspirin for the post-trip headache, straps his homeboy to some tubing, and sends him through space and time to late-90s Los Angeles. We know this because there are strobe lights, smoke, and occasional screaming, then a jump cut. Regina follows suit, but unfortunately, Vestor shows up shortly thereafter with his head goons. He forces Milton to send Fullock (Storm) and Henchman #2 back through time as well, and the chase is on. Will Mason locate the cure by the time the time portal re-opens? Will he be confused by the past's untorn shirts? The large cell phones? The startling lack of hoverboards?

For a quick and dirty list, here is what the post-apocalypse of Dragon Fury has to offer: fog, disease, torn t-shirts, sword fights, dirty robes, motorcycles, chokers with cock-rings, expensive bread, undercuts, and homing devices that turn into swords but look like vibrators. Here’s what it doesn’t have: adequate lighting, readily available firearms, oil drum fires, endangered water supplies, studded leather, lasers, or decent healthcare.

Beyond his brief cameo as a nerdy newlywed, David Heavener also contributes as the film’s director and writer. This is his sixth film, and I would shudder at any insinuation that this is his best effort. The post-apocalyptic costumes are lame even by b-movie standards, the villains are undercooked, the plot is meandering and silly, and the fights lack any sense of drama or danger for the most part. Some of the stunt set pieces, both large and small, are fairly competent though. Take a look through the credits and you’ll see the name of Parole Violators star, Sean Donahue, who served as the film’s stunt coordinator. He dons silly wigs, falls down flights of stairs, and does all of the little things that great stunt work ethic encompasses. I wouldn’t go so far as to call him the MVP of the film, but you could argue that he served the cinematic equivalent of James Posey on the 2008 Boston Celtics: a valuable role player without whom a championship would not be possible. In this case, that championship is The Best 1995 Film Bearing the Name “Dragon Fury.” (This film went undefeated).

Frankly, I was a little surprised to find that T.J. Storm had made so few appearances in films we’ve reviewed thus far. It *seems* like the dude is in everything. That said, the man best remembered around these parts for getting tricked into painting a garage and getting punched by Bolo Yeung during a solo dance sequence, is featured here as the main heavy, Fullock. Heavener seemed to have a clear idea that he wanted the character to be an Arnie-aping, man-of-few-lines, T-800-esque automaton. Storm is a little goofy at times, but I can’t blame him for the lack of engaging characterization. He’s hulking, throws some intense glares, and carries himself well during fight scenes. Seriously big hair, too.

Even if a film’s plot is silly and the sole ownership of acting chops resides with Richard Lynch and his ~72 hours on the set, not all is lost. Great or even good film fights can go a long way in raising the quality of the overall product. Lack of urgency notwithstanding, the fights here were okay, though it’s certainly a case where the energy level outstripped the choreography. The sword fights were bloodless duds, but Storm in particular looks good during his hand-to-hand fight scenes, and he and Chapin have a nice chemistry together. The fight settings are not particularly varied, though. Underpasses, L.A. concrete, parking garages, and warehouses are (once again) the most dangerous places around if you’re trying to avoid a martial arts fight.

VERDICT
The vast majority of b-level martial arts films have steered clear of time travel, with good reason. It can be a heady scientific story element probably best left to polished science-fiction genre filmmakers like Robert Zemeckis and Shane Carruth. However, I’m glad that Heavener decided that the ethics and philosophy of time travel could be conveniently discarded as long as you had plenty of tubing and strobe lights at your disposal. Fleeting moments of enjoyable absurdity or lively fights, but mostly forgettable.

AVAILABILITY
For hard copies on Ebay or Amazon, VHS is your only format option. The film is also freely available through Troma’s channel on YouTube.

3 / 7 

Enter the Podcast: Blood Hands, Elves and the GGTMC

If you follow my exploits through social media, you may already be aware that I recently guested on two podcast episodes under the white leather banner of The Gentlemen’s Guide to Midnite Cinema. For my final post of 2013, I wanted to describe each in a bit more detail for discriminating post-holiday shoppers with limited time budgets.

Are you a fan of foreign films featuring creatively staged fights with edge weapons, sweaty villains, ruined birthday celebrations, dogs named after iconic action stars of the 1980s, and characters being tied to train tracks? You are? That’s pretty random, but you’ll want to check out Episode 267, where I join Matt-suzaka of the Chuck Norris Ate My Baby blog, along with hosts Large William and The Samurai to discuss the 1985 Shaw Brothers action classic Hong Kong Godfather, and 1990’s Filipino fight film, Blood Hands. You may remember that we reviewed the latter film in this space back in 2011. This episode is a great refresher if you can’t remember what I (or you) thought about the film. I assure you that the conversation we have about it on the podcast contains far more giggles and Razor Ramon references than anything I could have produced with the written word.

Episode 267 of the Gentlemen’s Guide to Midnite Cinema (right-click, Save Link As)

Does the thought of a movie with bad creature effects, bathtub electrocution, pervy mall Santas, and Grizzly Adams make your tree water boil with anticipation? If so, be sure to check out Episode 22 of the GGtMC’s short-form companion program, the Midnite Ride. Matt-suzaka and I join forces once again to break down 1989’s Elves, a thoughtful last-minute gift to the world of cinema if there ever was one. A big thanks to Matt for sticking it out through some technical goofs to get this puppy recorded! Be sure to pay him a visit at his blog and compliment him on his black silk underwear.

Episode 22 of the Midnite Ride (right click, Save Link As)

A massive thanks to my friends Will and Sammy at the GGtMC for allowing me to participate in the holiday shenanigans this year! Be sure to visit them on the web or subscribe to their fine program on iTunes.

Blood Hands (1990)

PLOT: When his loving parents are murdered by a gang of kickboxers, a young fighter must choose between avenging their deaths or listening to his girlfriend and allowing police to handle the investigation. Will he take matters into his own hands or continue to walk around with his balls in his girl’s purse, nestled somewhere amongst her Burt’s Bees chapstick, a paperback copy of The Hunger Games, and her emergency tampon?

Director: Teddy Page
Writer: Nothing to see here
Cast: Sean P. Donahue, Jerry Beyer, Ned Hourani, Jim Gaines, Jim Moss, Christine Landson, Nick Nicholson

PLOT THICKENER:
As a premise, the home invasion unfurls a plethora of engaging narrative possibilities. Filmmakers might set the stage for a kid-friendly slapstick opus (Home Alone), an exercise in sadistic aggression with social commentary (Funny Games), or a rumination on the relationship between masculinity and brutality (Straw Dogs). It’s used primarily in horror and thriller films as of late, but the device is somewhat underutilized in the action genre. In Teddy Page’s 1990 film, Blood Hands, a home invasion is used as the impetus to hurl its central character into a protracted feud with a gang of kickboxing baddies. I’d be remiss if I didn’t send a special thanks to the very awesome Australian behind the Explosive Action film blog for facilitating my viewing of this film. He also has a review up containing some hilarious screen-caps as well as a fight scene clip. Be sure to read it here for another angle on the film.

Up until finding the lifeless bodies of his mother and father at home, Steve Callahan (Donahue) was having a pretty good day. His girlfriend, Tracy (Landson) professed her love, it was his birthday, and while sparring at his kickboxing school, his coach and prospective father-in-law nodded in something that resembled approval. A giant wet blanket comes in the form of his violated home and pummeled parents left for dead. What kind of animals would do this to such gentle people? Tigers or great white sharks are good guesses, but the most likely culprits are humans.

The leader of the guilty party is champion kickboxer James Clavel (Hourani). After a drunken celebration with his homeboys which accidentally left a convenience store owner dead, the crew stumbled upon the Callahan home to get fresh water for an overheated car radiator. As luck would have it, Diane Callahan just happens to be Clavel’s ex-squeeze, and even though she’s moved on to a new marriage, his old feelings come rushing back with such force that he ended up breaking her neck in a jealous rage. When doting husband Edward (Nicholson) returned home with a birthday cake for his son, the gang greeted him with a fatal beating. The lesson here? Drinking and driving can lead to death, even if you’re not in the car and especially when you fail to monitor the temperature gauge on the thermostat.

The only clue left behind at the scene of the crime, not to mention the biggest one the cops overlook, is a championship kickboxing medallion torn from the neck of Clavel’s buddy, George (Moss). Tracy brings it to Steve while alternately begging him to take it to the police instead of trying to chase clues on his own. While the medallion gives Steve a solid lead on the perpetrators, they’re also on the hunt to recover it and the respective pursuits lead to more trouble than Steve bargained for. All the while, Tracy begs for her love to quit this path of vengeance; he’s no murderer and she doesn’t want to see his hands “stained with blood.” However, seeking justice requires you to occasionally get your hands dirty. Sometimes you need to get your hands stained....with BLOOD.

We’ve previously covered director Teddy Page’s film, Blood Chase, and despite its confusing structure, the plot dealt with both protagonists and antagonists pursuing the same objective while alternately pursuing each other. There’s something similar going on in Blood Hands, but it’s more streamlined and easier to follow. Is the inciting incident believable? That depends on how much stock you place in the ability of cheap beer to cause homicidal behavior. So while the story’s not perfect, or even that logical, it’s engaging to watch unfold.

As in all his films, Page keeps the action flowing almost non-stop and everyone is up for the task. Based on their martial arts training, Hourani, Donahue, and Jerry Beyer as henchman Diego are the best-equipped to execute the fight choreography but the efforts of non-fighters like Nick Nicholson, Jim Gaines, and Jim Moss are also admirable. What really stuck out for me were the awesomely cheesy sound effects. Plenty of whooshes and the repeated thwack of baseball bats hitting heads of lettuce are up for consumption, and they’re synced reasonably well with the on-screen strikes. Some people hate that shit, but in a movie of this grade I think it’s an absolute necessity. Last, I really dug that Page went with a “mini-boss” style of climax that saw Donahue fighting a mix of random dudes before tangling with Clavel. Pair all that with some grisly deaths and I’m skipping toward the closing credits a very happy camper.

This is yet another notch in the belt for a group of actors that includes Nicholson, Moss, and Gaines, among many others. One or more of these guys made appearances in pretty much every Filipino kickpuncher from 1985 to around 1995. Conspicuous by his absence is Mike Monty, but the brother had five film credits to his name in 1990 alone, including two Black Cobra sequels. In keeping with the Rat Pack, the Frat Pack, and the Brat Pack, this collective of mostly American actors adventuring in the Filipino action film industry during this era really begs for a unifying nickname. My offering: the Expat Pack. (Hopefully it sticks because I had several thousand t-shirts printed with plans for a limited edition series of Trapper Keepers and lunchboxes).

Looking at the VHS cover, you might be disappointed to observe that while there is blood on our star, it’s on his face and chest. Conspicuously absent from his hands? Blood! So what gives? The fucking movie isn’t called Chest Blood and Denim (awesome title, btw). Fear not, though -- I’m happy to report that Blood Hands is a rare b-grade action film that actually delivers on what its title promises and its box art fails to convey: actual blood on actual hands.

One of the quirks we often encounter in watching these movies is the appearance of film posters from other properties in which the film company holds stake. In Showdown, some characters walk by a Breathing Fire poster in a movie theater (the distribution and/or production of both films involved Imperial Entertainment). In the climax of the PM Entertainment joint, Rage, Gary Daniels tosses a half-dozen motherfuckers among the shelves at a mall video store and the walls are plastered in posters of PM Entertainment flicks. Something similar happens in Blood Hands. Keep in mind that this was filmed in the Philippines, which apparently allowed the filmmakers to flout any semblance of licensing or copyright protocol and slap a poster of the JCVD classic Kickboxer on the wall during a scene where Steve visits the office of a film producer. A bit egregious, but they covered themselves legally using the “absurd superimposed handlebar moustache” loophole.

VERDICT:
From what I’ve seen, this is probably Donahue’s most concerted effort at doing a straight martial arts film and the results are solid. The plot is hardly original and the script is practically non-existent, but if you like your kickboxing with a heaping side of bad acting and terrible dialogue, Blood Hands fits the bill. While it doesn’t reach the heights of the previously reviewed Parole Violators, it’s still a fun romp and a good starting point to observe how Donahue’s early exploits in fight-heavy Filipino actioners paved the way for his batshit-insane stunt antics in his later films.

AVAILABILITY:
Extremely difficult to come by. Even non-R1 copies in circulation seem to be few and far between. Cross your fingers and happy snagging.

5 / 7

Parole Violators (1994)

PLOT: A cop-turned-vigilante named Miles Long arms himself with a video camera to catch parolees in criminal acts in order to send them back to prison. That’s right: in this film, hero is spelled A-V-N-E-R-D.

Director: Patrick G. Donahue
Writer: Patrick G. Donahue
Cast: Sean Donahue, Pamela Bosley, Rey Garcia, Michael Kiel, Mike Donahue, Kerry Casey




PLOT THICKENER:
There are some action films which exist on a plane of reality which defies any semblance of rational human behavior or thought. I’m not talking about movies where the hero with a six-shooter never runs out of bullets, or even the hero who has the great fortune of being attacked by thirty dudes, but by no more than one at a time. I’m talking about movies where the hero strains spaghetti on his counter instead of in his sink, and gets hit by two speeding cars before bounding off into the woods like a fucking deer. Really only one movie fits the bill: the action opus from father and son stunt team Patrick and Sean Donahue, 1994’s Parole Violators.

It would be disingenuous on my part to fail to give credit where it’s due; I first caught wind of this film from the always cordial and knowledgeable Big Willie from the Gentlemen’s Guide to Midnite Cinema. As the podcast’s listeners chased down copies, the film’s trailer began making the rounds via Twitter and Facebook updates before finally landing as a “Cool” post at Badass Digest in mid-April.

After acquiring the film, I was admittedly disappointed by the lack of a bombastic opening sequence. Instead, we get a picturesque shot of the Golden Gate Bridge as the credits roll, followed by a conventional convenience store stick-up. As I’m prone to do in judging action films by the first few minutes, I mentally prepared myself for what I expected to be a film on or around the quality of most PM Entertainment fare. Something with flash and fire and a few memorable moments or characters, but nothing revelatory that approached Arizal-levels of low-budget action genius. Literally seconds after processing this embryonic letdown of a thought, two characters got hit in rapid succession by the same moving car. What unfolded over the next 70 minutes made me chuckle at the silly impulsive cinematwat who judged this film by that first five minutes. While not a pure martial-arts film, Parole Violators is a terrific piece of action cinema.

Former cop and current television show host Miles Long (Fighting Spirit’s Sean Donahue) is a somewhat divisive and shadowy figure among local law enforcement. Some police love that this anonymous “video cop” makes their jobs easier by catching recently paroled criminals regressing to their criminal ways and providing physical evidence to boot. Others, such as Long’s cop girlfriend Tracy (Bosley), find the rumor that he moonlights as a videotaping vigilante both unusual and risky. While his tactics are ethically and legally questionable, they’re effective. He pursues every flavor of low-life, from grizzled stick-up artists to car-jackers. But one recent parolee stands heads and shoulders above the rest.

The villainous Chino, played by first-time-never-again actor Rey Garcia, has just been released from prison several years after being busted by Miles for sexual assault on a minor. His thuggish buddy Toos (Kiel) greets him upon his release and Chino immediately declares his intent to never again do something to put himself behind bars. In his words, he’s “a changed man.” Well, aside from his love for illegally young girls, which he makes sure to reiterate when his buddy questions his sexuality. Beyond the fact that he likes his women young, the only thing we know about Chino is that he has beer on the brain. No matter the situation, he voices his desire to “get a beer” at every opportunity. Just got out of prison? Let’s get a beer. Just evaded capture by throwing a six year-old girl from a moving car? Let’s get a beer. Just had a beer? Let’s get a beer. So how does a reformed sex offender who never wants to go back to prison commemorate his regained freedom? If you said: “he gets a beer,” you’re only half-right. He starts trying to kidnap little girls again.

Miles catches wind of Chino’s release and antics and it’s not long before the bad blood between them starts to boil again. Rather than stay clear of illegalities, Chino and friends go after Tracy’s daughter, inviting the fury of a certain former police officer who lists videography as a hobby. Despite the reputation of kiddie-touchers in the prison community, Chino still manages to lure a former cellmate and his biker friends into aiding his evildoing by dangling the hated Long as a potential reward. It could be said that the line of ex-convicts who want to beat the shit out of Miles Long is ... miles long. (Author’s note: Paused for collective groan).

Most would say that you don’t watch an action movie for the acting, but this film begs to differ. While the dramatic performances are more entertaining than they are good, in a film like this, it works to perfection. Miles and Tracy have an early exchange in a police car garage which requires the actors to yell an entire conversation over the screeches and constant banging of auto work. Later on, an actor sells a shotgun blast to the torso by murmuring “I’ve never been shot before” while softly moaning like an eight year-old who ate too much Halloween candy. There’s also an off-beat and hilarious discussion on the relative strength of birds as a female character writhes around and licks her lips while exposing some prominent camel-toe to her captors... in the back of a pickup truck. (Yes, this happened). So while the frequency and intensity of the action scenes are the film’s obvious strength, the inept acting and incredible dialogue are what enhance the film’s already sky-high rewatch value.

From a directorial standpoint, the elder Donahue is a steady veteran presence and the film is paced quite well. For the most part, the action sequences are competently shot, one of the highlights being an outstanding “empty warehouse” shootout scene. It’s quite literally an orgy of squibs and dudes falling from the rafters. These stunt falls are plentiful, but the one that tops them all has Long falling off a boulder and through about six different tiers of trees before landing chest-first on a branch, only to fall down another cliff before landing with a splash in a shallow riverbed. Fortunately, he shakes off the effects of this 80-foot fall in time to immediately kill two bikers with a knife. As mentioned previously, Violators contains a plethora of high-speed car vs. human body collisions which also need to be seen to be believed. The hand-to-hand fights are a bit short for my tastes but are accented with plenty of blood splatter, falls through windows, and good “baseball bat striking a head of lettuce” sound effects.

Aside from some continuity errors, the only other technical gripe I should note is the clunky editing, some of which appears to have been done to erase all spoken obscenities. I’m dubious on the real necessity of editing “motherfucker” to “mother--” when your film consists of bloody heroes decimating a gang of skinhead bikers with various automatic weapons in order to kill a crazed child molester … but that’s just me.

VERDICT:
In an age where the stuntman has been supplemented or even replaced outright by CGI chicanery, Parole Violators is a refreshing and rewarding watch for action aficionados. Between the epic falls, window smashing, and brutal car hits, this is some of the most insane cinematic stunt-work you’ll find in an American-made actioner and easily the best I’ve seen from a film specifically reviewed for this blog. The lack of clean and crisp fight choreography might leave some martial-arts purists cold, but viewers willing to trade off a bit of chopsocky for pure over-the-top action will want to add this to their collections.

AVAILABILITY:
Since Bottom Line Studios disappeared, exceedingly rare. You might be able to find a gray market copy on DVD.

6 / 7

Fighting Spirit (1992)

PLOT: After his sister is injured during an attempted gang rape, a young kickboxer can’t afford the medical bills so is forced into underground street fights by a sleazy crime boss. As the danger reaches a fever pitch, the only prescription is his best friend, David.

Director: John Lloyd
Writer: Rod Davis
Cast: Loren Avedon, Sean P. Donahue, Greg Douglass, Ned Hourani, Jerry Beyer, Michelle Locke, Mike Monty, Nick Nicholson

PLOT THICKENER:

You might be saying “hey Karl Brezdin, why the fuck are you calling this post Fighting Spirit when the cover art says King of the Kickboxers 2 and oh by the way, I got here by searching for Fighting Spirit anime torrents so where’s episode 7 ‘The Destructive Force of 1 cm?’” Well, hypothetical run-on question, allow me to explain.

Between 1986 and 1990, the original No Retreat, No Surrender and its two proper sequels were released. In Europe and other regions of the world, these films formed the Karate Tiger franchise (1-3.) Around 1991, King of the Kickboxers was released but was billed as Karate Tiger 4 in Europe and some other regions of the world. Then in 1992, American Shaolin was released as American Shaolin in America, but Karate Tiger 5 in Europe and elsewhere, but also as American Shaolin: King of the Kickboxers II on VHS by Academy Home Entertainment. That same year, Fighting Spirit was released under its original title in most places but eventually became King of the Kickboxers 2 when it was released on DVD in the United States. Pretty straightforward.

Fighting Spirit is the story of Billy (Donahue), a nice guy who made bad career choices and finds himself trying to make ends meet as an amateur kickboxer. While training with his coach (Nick Nicholson in a brief but hilarious cameo) he forgets to pick up his sister, Judith (Locke), following her shift at a local bar. When he finally arrives, she’s unconscious and about to be raped by a group of thugs led by Tony (Douglass), a gun dealer with an opinion of women equally as terrible as his terrible haircut. After Billy sends the thugs scurrying, a stranger appears out of nowhere and offers them a ride to the hospital. Unbeknownst to Billy, the stranger is Tony’s older brother, Russell (Hourani.) He watched the events unfold and has decided that Billy is worthy of a small investment.

After Judith’s insanely funky trip to the hospital -- director John Lloyd pairs the rush to the operating room with an orchestral disco beat -- Billy finds out that she needs an expensive surgery to save her eyesight, but he doesn’t have the funds to cover the procedure. Instead of accepting an offer of help from David (Avedon), his kickboxing friend and businessman, Billy takes money from the weird dude he just met an hour ago.

Unfortunately, there are strings attached. Billy quickly finds himself sucked into a filthy underworld where fighters compete in abandoned warehouses while rich assholes place bets and a funky wah-wah guitar track plays. Seeing unpolished potential, Russell pairs him with a fighting trainer named Murphy (Beyer) to hone his skills. While Murphy becomes something of a mentor to Billy, David is suspicious of the arrangement from the jump and encourages his friend to walk away and allow him to pay off the debt owed to Russell. Unfortunately, Billy’s pride won’t allow it.

Despite some initial success, Billy is still consumed by vengeance and begins to track down the people responsible for his sister’s attack. This lack of focus leads to a defeat and the relationship with Russell quickly turns sour. No slouch on the fighting front, David is forced to seek out Murphy for help to salvage what little remains in a desperate situation. The film’s villains do their part to make sure that no one goes unscathed. Russell is pure, hairy-chested sleaze and the glee with which Tony performs violence borders on childlike. No villain-filler here though, because both actors can fight reasonably well.

The action in this film is bonkers and the stunt team deserves a lot of credit for killing themselves to make Avedon and Donahue look great. Since their respective filmographies are so limited, I can’t say much about action directors Tao Chang and Ping-Po Chin, but almost every scene is painted with generous helpings of blood, sweat, and dust. Most of the decisive blows are given tight, slow-motion close-ups and props are used frequently and liberally.

Among several high-quality fight sequences, the standout scene for me was a pool hall brawl. Billy and David roll into the local billiards spot looking for one of the dickheads responsible for Judith’s injuries, and all hell breaks loose. The performers lay absolute waste to the set by smashing windows, liquor bottles, shelves, and every breakaway piece of furniture in sight. Avedon also incorporates some comedic touches by alternating between running his hands through his hair, standing idly with his hands in his pockets, and using props like pool cues, racks, and balls to ward off enemies. Is there an out-of-place disco beat blaring over this? Yes, there is a disco beat.

To say nothing of the awful dubbing, the terrible soundtrack very nearly derails the entire film. The music and onscreen action frequently form wild mismatches in tone, from the dramatic disco-hospital combo to the energizing disco-fight scenes and the requisite disco-training montage scene. I doubt composer Larry Strong wrote and performed these songs specifically for this film; it seems more likely that he got an arbitrary credit when John Lloyd mined a box of studio music marked “BEST IF USED BY 1982.”

The film’s gritty feel is further underscored by some visceral tones and the brutality of some of the kills. Some people get thrown from rooftops, one gets tortured in a dingy basement, others get bloody strangulation, and Avedon scores an all too-rare Martial-Artist Vomit Scene when identifying a body at the morgue. There’s even a scene where a character has each arm tied to the rear bumpers of two different cars and is dragged at high-speed before splatting face-first into a stationary car. Sleazy kills, rape as a plot point, and low production values? Cirio-sense tingling...

While no filming location is listed on the film’s IMDb page, it’s safe to assume that based on the heinous music and risky stunts that this was filmed in the Philippines. The other critical indicators include cameos from Filipino action veterans Nick Nicholson, and Mike Monty as an obnoxious drunk. While Fighting Spirit was the last of four films directed by John Lloyd, his directorial style is timeless: keep the plot loose, the violence frequent, and everything in between as unintentionally hilarious as possible.

While most of the film’s accidental comedy comes from poor dubbing and the odd music selections, Michelle Locke’s performance as the vision-impaired Judith is gut-busting. Is it ever permissible to laugh at blind people in films? Usually no, because a good script and a well-trained actor won’t give you reasons to do so. Shintaro Katsu of Zaitoichi fame or Morgan Freeman in Unleashed weren’t flailing their arms in pools or tripping over dead bodies. These are mishaps that deserve a hearty mocking even if the character can see. So it’s OK to cackle at a first-time actress trying to pretend to be blind. If you laugh at a blind person crossing a street with the assistance of a seeing-eye dog, you’re a fucking degenerate.

VERDICT:
If enough people stumble across it, Fighting Spirit has the potential to become something of a cult classic in martial-arts film circles. It must be said that for every element the film gets right -- the fight scenes and sleazy villains among them -- there are three or four other things that go dreadfully wrong (the music, the script, dubbing, set lighting, etc.) The result doesn’t make for a poor viewing experience though. On the contrary, the film’s underlying charm comes directly from its grit, grime, and random technical warts. There’s no shortage of crazy Filipino action movies out there, but for those who likes their sleaze-and-cheese with an extra helping of chopsocky, this one is worth every cent of your viewing dollar.

AVAILABILITY:
Amazon or EBay.

5.5 / 7