Undefeatable opens with orchestra music blaring on the soundtrack. Something dramatic is happening! We see a fuckable, redheaded housewife talking to her redheaded shrink, also fairly fuckable. It would be a great porn setup if the acting was better. The session pertains to the mean-spirited antics of Stingray, a cage fighter who likes fighting, but loves marital rape. In fact, Sting Ray is so into his redheaded wife that when he rapes her, he actually thinks of the black guy he just hammered in the ring. We see him passionately linger on the memory of a would-be death blow right before he drops his load. I guess it is little things like this that make Sting Ray’s wife go to counseling. Anyway, the shrink tells the wife to leave Sting Ray, so she does, so of course Stingray freaks out, breaks a table, and remembers his mother leaving him, to which he intones “Don’t leave me mommy, I’ll be good.” Stingray is crazy like… not so much a fox, as someone with an array of very serious psychological problems.

In case Stingray’s state of mind is still unclear to the viewer, we learn that he calls his wife “Mommy” during intercourse (or marital rape) and, even during non-rape moments, says things to her like, “I want to play, mommy!” This movie is psychologically deep. For example, we can tell that Stingray’s problems are getting worse because he begins throwing pop can tabs at people. Then poking their eyes out. Then kidnapping all women with red hair who wear flowered dresses, taking them back to his lair, beating them with a chain in some type of S&M ritual, raping them and then ripping their eyes out and storing the eyes in his fish tank. Because if Stingray can’t have Anna (his wife), he will kill anyone that reminds him of her. And all of this carnage could have been avoided if only Stingray’s mother had breast fed him.

Enter street fighter Cynthia Rothrock, a redhead who works as a waitress during the day but at night dukes it out with other street fighters so she can put her little sister, who has, you guessed it… red hair, through college. Anyway you can pretty much guess what happens next: how Rothrock’s sister will remind Stingray of his beloved and so will be murdered in the Stingray style; how this will piss off Cynthia Rothrock, in one of the worst acted scenes in the history of film; how  this will lead to a vengeful confrontation between Cynthia Rothrock and Stingray. This is also around the time we first meet John Miller, the cop who “knows his name,” according to the nonsensical trailer. He’s also a martial arts expert and the man on the case of Stingray’s serial killings. We are introduced to John as some guy swings a machete at him, bellowing, “Suck my dick!” to which our kung fu cop says, “Suck this, jerk-off!” and jams a gun into the perp’s special area. This establishes the fact that John is here to save the day. Because, professional fighter or not, would anyone find it believable if Cynthia Rothrock got her own vengeance? No, this film happened before J-Lo could take four cardio kickboxing classes and beat down her six-foot-four, abusive husband in Enough, changing the way we think about gender roles forever. And if there’s one thing Undefeatable strives for, it’s credibility. So as you might have guessed, the kung fu cop and Cynthia Rothrock join forces to bring Sting Ray to justice, which then leads to a ridiculous police investigation that wouldn’t pass muster on “The Andy Griffith Show,” and a legendary finale in which they blind and kill the villain.

Undefeatable is a movie that would have certainly offended women’s groups if more than 800 people had seen it. The movie often sides with the crazed, misogynistic killer, especially since he’s the only person who has a history about which the audience knows anything. It’s blatantly obvious that the filmmakers hold the women in Stingray’s life responsible for his violent actions. His wife is seen denying him sex, not having dinner ready after fight night and having the audacity to leave him over some incest-flavored rape. Stingray’s mother then is seen as real slut because she chose another man over her beloved son, whom she obviously molested. So, according to Undefeatable, the cunts in this film deserve what they get. If anything, they get off easy. Stingray’s wife even wants him to be more sensitive, kindhearted and work as a mechanic, rather than compete in a sport with no future, in which he risks death. The castrating bitch.

More telling is how, even though Stingray killed Cynthia Rothrock’s sister, Rothrock doesn’t even really get the revenge. In fact, Rothrock’s attempts at vengeance are clearly seen as a joke, as she confronts the wrong guys and indeed, is told by the kung fu cop that she knows absolutely nothing about how to exact biblical vengeance. After Miller’s lecture, Rothrock ceases to investigate her sister’s murder on her own, settling to be a sidekick/fuck-buddy to the kung fu cop trying to bring the killer to justice. John Miller delivers Stingray’s demise, but true to the 80s Action rule, only after his male cop partner is killed. By the end of the film, Cynthia’s sister is a mere footnote to all concerned. We’re still not done. Stingray dumps the women’s bodies in porta-potties, where the whores all belong. The film only regrets that there wasn’t a less dignified place. The guys that die in this film are left on streets, lawns and warehouses, but every woman that dies in this film is found in a porta-potty. What else can be said?

In the homoerotic arena we see Stingray and the kung fu cop engage in shirtless fisticuffs that involve close-up punches to the head (with mucus flying out of their mouths on contact) and shirts getting ripped. Obvious cock substitutes (in this case a Cobra Knife) are used to carve rippling torso flesh. Indeed, Stingray even licks the “blood” off his “knife” after cutting the cop. As mentioned earlier, we see him think of black guys during the rape of his wife, so there’s no reason to think black dick is far from his mind when he rapes women who look like his wife. A woman even hits on Stingray and he turns her down! So is it possible Stingray is the flipside of the killer in Cruising, in that instead of killing homosexuals, he kills women because he can’t come to terms with his gayness. I mean, Christ almighty, the man is rippled enough to force Fred Phelps out of the closet, and how much hair product was used to keep that Buttafuco mullet fluffed? Who on earth does Stingray think he’s fooling anyway with the name “Stingray”? Looking a lot like one of The Kids In The Hall doesn’t help his cause much either.

Exploring more of the homoerotic agenda, Stingray kills an Asian kung fu master who is in process of getting it on in a parking lot with a red head. The guy is such a candy ass that, for him, heterosexual intercourse doesn’t involve rape. So Stingray kills him, and then does his thing with the lady. Stingray also kills a fat guy named “Bear” by breaking his neck and then killing his redheaded girlfriend. We also know she’s going to die because the director of this epic turd always lingers on redheaded women in flowered dresses in a hamfisted attempt at foreshadowing, but the message is simple, men that cannot protect their women die. Indeed this happens to Bearť after he gets his ass kicked by Cynthia Rothrock. If you cannot beat a woman in a street fight, you obviously are not much of a man and so a man of Stingray’s pedigree will kill you and take your woman and then kill her. In Stingray’s world, there is only room for hard men, pussy and pussies must be exterminated. Also the character named “Bear” is named “Bear.”

Tagline:

Framed, Forgotten, Furious

Entire story in fewer words than are in this sentence:

Jewish beefcake is almost as sexy as Belgian beefcake.

Homoeroticism:

This is the queen of the series and, considering the constant display of the oiled, male form in Kickboxers 1-3, that says a lot.  One woman shows her tits and has sex with our hero’s sidekick.  In accordance with the laws of 80’s action, she is killed for poisoning his cock with her vile stank.    The plot does revolve around Sasha Mitchell saving his wife, who has been kidnapped by bad kickboxers.  However, she is unattractive and seen only in the beginning, when she is raped by the head bad guy, Tong Po, and then at the end as a hostage/horrible, ugly burden.  Mitchell never deigns to hug or kiss her.  The real action begins when Sasha and his equally buff sidekick are tied up together, chests oiled and glistening. We meet Tong Po, we can see that he waxes his eye brows, has had numerous plastic surgeries and wears make up.  Not movie make up, girl make up.  Sasha  is asked by a woman just how hard he is.  He rebuffs her by saying, “hard enough,” in a reply that can only be meant to establish that he is too much man for a mere woman.    Also, there is a bar fight in which Sasha Mitchell uses two pool cues to grope a man’s groin and, given Mitchell’s poker faced intensity in the scene, we can tell he really enjoys vice-gripping those balls. The climax occurs among picnic tables, where hissing, kneeing, kicking and bludgeoning all take place in the sun so that our hero’s and villain’s muscles glisten, ensuring that we all win.   In other words, I was left with a swollen colon and a broken pool cue.

Pre-Mortem One Liner:

“Darcy Is a beautiful woman!”  Right before Tong Po stabs a hooker, spilling her guts as she’s tied up next to our hero and his sidekick. This sequence is funny, not so much because of the line,  but because Tong Po is playing a mandolin when he disembowels her.

Corpse Count:

13.  Once again there is a lot of gray area because there are many fight sequences that could easily kill someone in real life. A guy gets his head slammed into a brick, for example but fractured skull, schmactured schmull… there were 13 confirmed kills.

Novelty Death:

Tong Po’s main henchman (Played by the guy that killed Jason in Friday The 13th Part 6: Jason Lives) has a gun to the head of Mitchell’s wife.  Mitchell grabs a really dull looking knife that happens to be sitting by a punchbowl.  Before the villain can  react, he gets the knife to the head.   I love it when people get stabbed in the head.

How Bad Is It Really:

This is easily the best of the Kickboxer sequels.  This fucker is watchable (I’ve seen it like 14 times, which is about 11 times less than I’ve seen K1). There is a great bar fight in which Mitchell throws bikers through windows, pool tables, phone booths, picnic tables (there’s kind of a picnic table motif) and stools.  During this scene, a man is thrown through a window, then hit by a van and propelled back into the bar through another window. There was a guy who would slam the head of his opponent into the ground over and over again.   There were tons of necks being broken and, in one memorable scene, Sasha Mitchell actually beats up a guy with a pool skimmer.   So this is better than the previous two Kickbokers and better than most  martial arts flicks in general.  Of course, it is still  terrible.   I mean, whoever did Tong Po’s girlish makeup should have their hands chopped off.  And how did Sasha Mitchell’s character become a DEA agent after being a kickboxing champion in 2 and 3?  And why on earth does Mitchell go undercover among bad guys who already know who he is, disguised only by a pair of sunglasses?   I wasn’t surprised to see that the guy that directed this film also directed the equally surrealistically crappy Cyborg. Thankfully, they know where their bread (and ours) is buttered and any distractions can be forgiven in exchange for the numerous homo-erotically charged fight scenes.

Stupid Political Content:

Mitchell is in prison for doing his job too well, having been set up by his enemy: The System. The System uses Sasha Mitchell’s kickboxing skills to try and take down a drug lord, because the drug lord is also a deadly kickboxer.  He goes too far for the liberal System, however, and they shut him down, which somehow leads to Mitchell’s wife’s abduction.  Only after Tong Po kills a bunch of  DEA agents does The System realize it needs an unfettered hard man to take down a criminal hard man.  Politics and rules are worthless to the bad guys, so the hero shouldn’t have to abide them either.  Finally, when you show criminals mercy, as Mitchell did to Tong Po in Kickboxer 2,  it will come back to bite you in the ass approxomately two movies later.

What I learned:

A pair of sunglasses is an adequate disguise, so long as you have a pool skimmer on hand in case things go south.

Story In Entire Sentence:

Tough Englishman must keep himself alive by repeatedly shocking himself, all while finding the man who stole his heart. Just like Macbeth.

Homoeroticism:

Anyway, Jason Statham is a real hunk, more in the vein of Stallone than Van Damme, but the kinky gayness piles up. Not only do we see Statham’s chest (not since Kickboxer have I seen a chest so sweaty) for an endless amount of time, but also his ass and cock, and he’s constantly fighting men who are almost always shirtless. He even has a gay sidekick. There’s also some squirm-inducing moments, such as a Latin mobster who tells a tattooed stud to cut off his nipples, which he does with relish. Statham also sticks a shotgun up the ass of an Asian thug, and “tortures” him by shoving the “shotgun” barrel further into the glory hole. He’s Asian, so it’s like any other Thursday. Also, there is a recurring theme where the gay brothers stick together and come out for each other in full gun-toting support. In this case, they help Statham, and although a perfectly attractive Asian chick has the hots for Statham, he keeps telling her to get lost and leave him alone. She even gets hit by a car for not taking no for an answer. Finally, he gives her a hug (while on fire), which starts her on fire,  indicating that it wouldn’t work out, as Statham is literally flaming. And let’s not even get into the fact that Statham tells a gay couple to zap him as he puts on a dog collar, telling them to shock him more and more. Also, a redhead starts making passes at Statham’s girlfriend and sure enough, Statham isn’t even aroused. In other words, this is the queerest action flick since Showdown In Little Tokyo. Also, we get to see Statham hook jumper cables to his nipples and tongue.  In an 80s Action cardinal rule, a man talking to a shrink says how he’s gonna bang a bunch of whores, and then literally dies one second after uttering the word. Also, the whole premise is just one big metaphor about one man’s quest to keep himself aroused.  Notice he has sex with his girlfriend, but only so he can stay alive long enough for a violent embrace with other men. But he has a girlfriend, you say? Note that Corey Haim and a cop tell her to leave Statham because he’s no good for her. Also, it’s blatantly obvious that the title could easily describe a dildo.

Corpse Count:

36 is what I counted, give or take a few. Once again, the movie’s editing is often hard to focus on, but you do get a lot of beat downs,  a Godzilla parody, a guy kicking a severed head into the ocean, and much, much more.  In other words, the film is full of brutal orgasmic spurts of violence, and the smile on my face never left.

How Bad Is It Really?

Holy shit, it’s about fucking time we had a movie this politically incorrect, hateful, misogynist and racist. In other words, Crank 2 is like a shot of Wild Turkey after endless rounds of Cherry Pucker. One only wonders why in the fuck people can’t get this shit right when they make action flicks. I mean, this could easily been made by Cannon, and damn it if I didn’t smile when I saw a group of mohawked (gay) bikers ride in the town and help Jason Statham kick the shit out of greasy Mexicans. I should note that while this movie is an orgy of wonderful violence,  I think it’s only fair to point out that the plot makes no sense whatsoever,  and this marks the big screen comeback of Corey Haim, complete with a fucking mullet. But like Rambo, who gives a fuck? I mean, we get  to see a sex scene between Jason Statham and Amy Smart on a horse track, for chrissakes, complete with blurred out shots of Statham’s cock. And Smart’s pussy, if you’re interested in that sort of thing. Sure, it could be seen as a breach in 80s Action rules, but please understand that Statham is only fucking her so he can get the static electricity necessary to keep himself alive. If you need any proof as to the allusions to 80s Action, note that Statham rubs up against men first, possibly so he can get it up.

Stupid Political Message:

There isn’t anything, as the film really is a turkey shoot with no attempts at a plot or for that matter, a message. That being said, I did notice that all minorities in the film were either prostitutes,  gangsters, lackeys for mobsters, horny old perverts, or gay. So it’s like Newark, only less ridiculous. I think the closest thing to political content is when Statham starts a gunfight because his white, innocent girlfriend is stripping for minorities and drugged out degenerates like Corey Haim. Because let’s all remember 80s Action wasn’t only about the gayness, but also keeping innocent white women from having sex. Ever.

Lessons Learned:

I now realize why Stallone cast Statham in The Expendables alongside Jet Li, Dolph Lundgren, and Eric Roberts. Statham is the same vein of hero, not like those Nancy boys Vin Diesel and Will Smith. Also, I learned that anything is possible, as Corey Haim is making a big screen comeback. He may even have been paid. I guess Steve Guttenberg might show up next year on the big screen.

Can the premise even be articulated?

Sort of. Mix Robocop with The Terminator and cast the robot with a big bald fucker that looks like Steve Wilkos. Add a real life kickboxer Don “The Dragon” Wilson as a human who is targeted by the Steve Wilkos which is controlled by his former employers (a senator and some other miscellaneous trash) and you basically have a movie where a guy beats the crap out of robots and Australians while proving his innocence with kickboxing. All you need to know is that the film has a wannabe Sasha Mitchell that makes Van Damme seem like the next coming of George C. Scott.

C-List Costars:

Well there is Richard Norton, who plays the Aussie martial artist who takes on Don “The Dragon” Wilson in the climax. Apparently Richard Norton was a bodyguard for some music stars and was in Gymkata and a whole slew of 90s Inaction flicks. This guy is also much bigger in Hong Kong where he’s been a villain in Jackie Chan and Sammo Hung flicks. He’s also a better actor than The Dragon and much sexier.

Evidence That The Script was written by a robot that looks like Guy Ritchie:

The movie rips off so many other movies it’s not even funny. No wait, it’s actually very funny. You have a rebel underground opposing the totalitarian corporation running the world (Max Headroom). You have a robot that is used for law enforcement to execute without prejudice (Robocop or Universal Soldier) a hero that finds out that his employer is corrupt (any conspiracy movie) and faces an enemy that can’t be stopped with bullets and is merciless, invincible and emotionless (The Terminator). Cyber Tracker also borrows thematically from Bergman’s Faith Trilogy without contributing additional insight.

Bargain Bin Quality:

Again, the funniest thing about the movie is that the robot looks identical to Steve Wilkos, without the bowling shirts. Seriously the way the robot walks, talks and fights reminds one of Steve Wilkos so much that I half expected him to throw a fucking chair. Also our hero is so lame and boring that he actually gets drunk with the A.I housekeeper he lives with. That’s the state of action. Our heroes can’t find a man, or even a woman to bond with so they program a robot to get drunk with them. Sad. (Note to self: program robot to be drinking buddy.)

Redeeming Qualities:

We do have lots of explosions and fight sequences but let’s be candid. This movie is so fucking bored with itself that its tired plot threads weave into a moronic and boring knot. An underground rebellion, boring bad guys (Steve Wilkos aside) and a lead performance delivered by Wilson, possibly the worst actor to ever recite from cue cards. The film has cars flipping over, apparently has a decent budget for explosions, but isn’t gay enough, dumb enough or fun enough to be anything but a mindless curiosity to 80s action fans.

Vestiges Of Glory

Corpse Count:

I counted 31 but most of it is routine, though the special effects regarding the Wilkos robot are so blatantly unconvincing and cheap that the fight sequence is laughable instead of awe-inspiring. That being said I always love it when cars do flips do somersaults like 20 times before easing to a stop and then exploding on contact.

Homoeroticism:

The film sort of has the gayness going on, but is really an example of the decline of homoreoticism in the genre rather than anything genuinely arousing. There’s a hot blonde love interest and, while she doesn’t have sex with our hero, she is seen kissing him and it’s clear Donny-Boy wants a piece of her action. Of course it’s probably because he’s just happy for any human interaction that doesn’t involve DVDs, credit card numbers or drinking with tameguchis. Richard Norton, Steve Wilkos-Droid and Don Wilson are all shirtless in battle but it strikes one as a hollow act of obligation. It’s as if 80s Action hero were forced to go to the straight camp that worked so well for Ted Haggard.

Novelty Death:

Dragon reaches inside the Steve Wilkos-droid, put a bomb in his abdomen and blows him in half and we can see his legs spark before it falls down and circuits out dead.

Pre-Mortem One-Liner:

“You are to be executed NOW!” said over and over again by the Steve Wilkos droid.

Uwe Boll is truly a magical and fascinating creature. He’s like a cross between Ed Wood and Post-Blackjack John Woo, and he’s so pissed off by his reputation that he’s actually kickboxed his detractors. It’s cocksmanship of the most edgy from a man who is clearly out of his element and mind. Uwe Boll’s problem isn’t that he’s an incompetent director who works with heavyweight talents like uh, Eric Roberts, Clint Howard, and Michael Pare (Eddie and the Cruisers was only 24 years ago) In fact, the man’s problem isn’t that he makes worthless shit-fests that fester on like a bad case of herpes. No, his problem is that he didn’t make movies 20 years ago when such shit would’ve been seen as talent. The 80s, such as it was, was a time for oiled men, contempt for women, and tons of blissful idiocy that passed as entertainment. In other words, Uwe Boll is a pretentious 80s hack making movies in the wrong decade. I’m guessing that Golan and Globus and their rip-offs would’ve given even bigger budgets (at the time) than Michael Dudikoff and Richard Lynch, and then would’ve told Uwe to impress them. I don’t doubt it, as these geniuses gave us Ninja III, which combined Ninjitsu and break-dancing without breaking a sweat.

This brings us to In The Name Of The King: Dungeon Siege Tale, which is hands down a title of true epic genius. I mean, it doesn’t have the ring of Breakin’ 2: Electric Boogaloo, but it’s certainly snappy as all fuck. This is probably the closest you’ll get to sheer Golan/Globus moronic incompetence without dipping into the classic catalog, which includes such orgasmic bloodbaths such as Invasion USA, American Ninja, Cyborg and Murphy’s Law. Like these masterpieces of the form, it’s a movie that takes itself as seriously as rape, and like the Cannon canon, it’s a hang-out for washed up actors, almost-stars, and various people still milking the image of their one and only memorable role. For instance, take Missing In Action – it had Chuck Norris, but also a slew of actors who weren’t exactly household names. I mean, M. Emmett Walsh, James Hong, Professor Toru Tanaka and Soon Tech Oh. Here, we get Ray Liotta, Jason Statham, and Burt Fucking Reynolds. But also the never quite stars, like Leelee Sobieski, Matthew Lillard, Clare Forlani, and Kristana Loken, as well as the genre favorites John Rhys Davies and Ron Perlman. This isn’t a cast, it’s a group of people trying hard to hang on tightly to their C-list status.

The movie’s special effects are also just as bad as the Cannon films. Take these monsters which are made from cheap CGI that would barely pass muster on a Sci-Fi original movie. These things are clunky, ridiculous, boring, and not at all that imposing of a threat. There’s some type of bullshit surrounding Ray Liotta wanting to take over a kingdom in which Jason Statham has to oppose him, because Statham is also the rightful prince to the throne. And with the help of tree people (?), a group of soldier boy grunts and some sorcery, he does so. He also wants to save his wife from the clutches of the evil Ray Liotta, which is understandable, since a now-geriatric Ray Liotta is a prime stud. He always has been, even when he raped Pia Zadora with a garden hose. I mean, Ray scores a sex scene with Leelee Sobieski, and this just proves Liotta is the man. He doesn’t have the turn you gay vibe that Van Damme has, but it’s pretty close.

The movie is basically one long battle sequence with embarrassed actors reciting lines that sound translated from Greek gibberish, while trying hard to convince themselves that they’re fighting CGI monsters and giving a fuck about what is going on. Uwe Boll of course captures all the action with a surreal touch not seen since 1987’s Cannon epic Penitentiary III. Boll also gives us the blessed Cannon styled post apocalyptic narrative style, mainly a film which is beefed up by pointless sequences that could be flashbacks, or character development, but are completely nonsensical. In all regards, this is when a hack takes his material and runs with it so far the wrong way, he actually manages to make it fantastic. And fantastic, this movie is.

In the end in a time, where good movies are rare, camp completely MIA and nothing but streams of cliched and insipid garbage stinking up theaters, it’s nice to see one man take his retarded ambitions and vision and showcase them for our unintentional laughter. I mean, we lost Golan/Globus, PM Studios (sultans of shit that gave us C. Thomas Howell/Don “The Dragon” Wilson in car chase fueled dumbness), Vidmark (the crap kings that gave us Leprechaun and Cyborg Cop movies!), etc. It is sad that Uwe Boll is the only one still up to the challenge of giving us golden morsels of shit that will be laughed at 20 some years from now.

Tagline:

“First there was Van Damme, then Sasha Mitchell, Now Sasha’s back and he’s hotter (!) and deadlier than ever!”

Entire Story in Fewer Words Than Are In This Sentence:

Kickboxing champ saves hookers from scuzzy American pimp.

Homoeroticism:

This is a film where the hero kickboxer wears red overalls with nothing else underneath.   Then there’s the training montage in which Sasha Mitchell is forced to undergo extreme labor for no other reason than for us to witness sweaty hunk muscle for an extended period. We see Mitchell digging a ditch were he is all sweaty and dirty, during which he looks over at his Asian sensei, only to flash forward to Sasha bathing in a waterfall, not unlike a porno. All that’s missing is for his master to come behind him and grab his pecs.  Also, Sasha’s Asian mentor coats him with mud and in the beginning of the picture, is giving him a back massage before Mitchell goes out and kicks paper cups off people’s heads. Let us not also forget that Mitchell bonds with a Rio kid whose sister has been kidnapped by a white slavery ring. Also, as soon as Mitchell dances with a woman in a bar, he is then attacked by a man, which leads to another fight sequence. Suffice it to say, the gayest part happens in the climatic fight sequence in which Mitchell fights a kickboxer who kicks him in the balls. And of course, there’s a sequence where Mitchell takes a pail of water and pours the contents on the bad guy fighter for no other reason than to see his muscles glisten a little bit more. There is no love interest whatsoever and in fact, there isn’t even an attractive woman in the entire movie, which is bizarre given that Rio is known to be filled with hot beach bunnies. Perhaps the director wants us to get inside the head of our hero, who sees women as unattractive because he’s madly in love with pecs, oiled muscle, and his street kid. It speaks volumes that Mitchell would be trying to stop a pimp, which would stop us regular Joes from scoring pussy in Rio.

Corpse Count:

14 exactly, and none in the ring. For some reason, Sasha Mitchell comes from the Chuck Norris school of ass-kicking instead of Van Damme (who is the older brother of his character in this series). He typically just kicks the crap out of various people and leaves them hurt, not dead. Still, there is a sequence where Mitchell and his mentor go around and wipe out some guards for no real reason, especially since the guards are protecting a guy who has nothing to do with the girl’s kidnapping. But I digress. The shootout is pretty hilarious, because Mitchell seems like Ted from Bill & Ted, and as such, is woefully inadequate.

Pre-Mortem One-Liner:

“This is very sad, how very disappointing,” after the pimp shoots one of the unattractive women he steals off the street, who has foolishly tried to leave.

Post-Mortem One-Liner:

“Killing someone never feels good,”  said by Mitchell after his kid friend kills the main bad guy, who just happens to have Mitchell at gun point. What makes it great is that prior to this, Mitchell killed like 6 random people who had nothing to do with the kid’s sister who was kidnapped.

How Bad Is It Really?:

About as good as Kickboxer 2, which should you tell you everything. Mainly because Sasha Mitchell is like a surfer dude who like has really awesome kickin’ skills, man.   Seriously, imagine Keanu Reeves from Point Break and you have Sasha Mitchell. Only without the depth and range. That being said, the movie is boring with too many sequences of Mitchell and his mentor going down town Rio and talking to various people. I did laugh at Mitchell’s black and white zubas and yellow sleeveless shirt,  and I also loved how people actually paid money to see him kick paper cups off people’s heads. Aside from that, the movie’s pacing is as flabby as my beer belly. And let’s not even get into the fact that Sasha Mitchell is easily the best actor in the cast. The best.

Novelty Death:

I would have to go with the sequence where Mitchell shoots a machine gun while spinning around in a completely unconvincing manner. The novelty death is pretty routine as these things go, but the ballet-type sway he performs as he shoots his machine gun is enough for at least a partial erection.

Stupid Political Content:

Nothing really, except that we need to help out the poor Third World countries because that’s what a champion should do. And donating part of your winnings to sponsor a poor lad’s education is also what a champion does, making this a bit too left-of-center for the genre.

What You Learned:

That Rio has nothing but ugly hookers, in violation of every travel brochure in Christendom.