Wednesday, August 20, 2014

Fist of the North Star (1995)



It's no secret that snarky reviewers love to rip open adaptations.  Certain awful people have built their entire internet empires on making wacky faces in between random scenes from Super Mario Brothers.  There's even fairly obvious tiers to these films based on how many reviews of them there are where someone goes WHO THOUGHT THIS WAS A GOOD IDEA, MY PRESHIOUS NOSTALGIA (mug, mug).  At the top you have stuff like the aforementioned Mario and Street Fighter, films that virtually every internet review king has to talk about at some point.  Then you have the second tier, films like Double Dragon and the entire oeuvre of Uwe Boll, which get their fair share of in-depth outrage.  Finally you get relatively unknown films such as Wing Commander or King of Fighters, films that have avoided the brunt of scorn either because the source material isn't as readily familiar to 13-year-olds, or because the movies are just really kind of dumb and forgettable.

All this being said, it's kind of shocking and depressing that Fist of the North Star seems to be at the bottom of attention, since in addition to the film being far more insane and terribad than the vast majority of film adaptations,  it also implies that not enough people have watched/read the source material.  And that really sucks.  Because YOU WA SHOCK is about a million times better than whatever the hell you watch.

So in the mid-90s, Tony Randel, a guy who got his start directing Hellbound: Hellraiser 2 (a cash-in sequel that was surprisingly good in that it at least recognized that all we wanted was more skinned people and more Cenobites) and Ticks (I make no apologies for loving this movie) decided it was time to broaden his horizons and go film...a direct to video adaptation of an anime that only hardcore nerds were really aware of at this point (unless you had like 500 dollars to burn on VHS tapes with 3 episodes apiece, ah the good old days).  Or maybe "decided" is the wrong word, because if you look at Randel's output in other films versus what we have here, it's obvious that regardless of the understanding Randel had towards the source material, he clearly didn't give a flying fuck about it.

There's almost always two scenes in video game film adaptations.  One is where it's made really really clear that the director doesn't care about the actual video game plot.  It's when you have Yoshi appear as a tiny ass dinosaur that looks sad all the time, or when Wing Commander first utters the words "Pilgrim."  The other scene is where it is made really really clear that video game plots are too complicated for people that haven't actually played the game.  It's when the film just expects people to understand that a giant fat black lady in red is supposed to be something else, or why anyone would ever be named Abobo.

Fist of the North Star is notable because not only does it consolidate its hatred of fanboys and confused neophytes into a single scene, it is literally the second scene in the movie.  So let's break this down.

After the standard "THE WORLD IS RUIN, HELLO 20XX," opening narration, we see Admiral Tolwyn Malcolm McDowell playing Ryuken sitting in some ruined dojo.  Shin (played by Costas Mandylor, who you might know better as EVIL DETECTIVE HOFFMAN GOD I HATE SAW) walks in, there's some awkward talk about DO YOU KNOW YOUR MISSION AS WELL AS I DO YES I DO YOU MUST DIE.  Then McDowell plays his trump card of "well I'm Fist of the North Star and you're Southern Cross WE CAN NEVER FIGHT," which is the point when one half of the audience is like um why.  But then Shin states:

"This is not a fight.  It's an execution."

So let's review.  Not only does the movie immediately start throwing weird minutiae about competing fighting systems, it also features Ryuken dying to a fucking revolver.  Wielded by Shin.  Maybe this is being a little too fanboyish, but holy shit way to completely subvert everything about Fist of the North Star immediately. It's like the title crawl of a Final Fantasy VII remake talking about how Sephiroth was once a respected US Senator until someone spilled radioactive coffee on his crotch, and now he's an angry robot that wants to pull down Space Station Mir.  

But hey, I thought.  So they completely threw away any credibility within six minutes.  What are we really here for?  PEOPLE EXPLODING!  And at first, the movie seems to comply.  After some opening bullshit about the plucky little civilian town with fresh water (this being 1995, this water is highly coveted because all the rain has become ACID RAIN that burns the skin away), we see Kenshiro (played by Gary Daniels) seeking refuge at a nice couple's home that is naturally attacked by raiders.  As a result:


Pretty great, right?  Well, good news:  this never happens again!  Instead, the rest of the fights are standard mid-90s american kick punch affairs, on a technical level slightly higher than when pink ranger did splits to beat up putties.  I don't know if Daniels demanded more realistic fights to show off his kickboxing skills or the sfx budget ran out or what.  While it's disappointing, that's not even the dumbest part of this film.

Remember how in the early episodes of Fist of the North Star Kenshiro constantly ran away from trouble and let civilians get tortured/raped because he didn't want to fight?  I don't either, but apparently some joker spliced together neon genesis evangeleon scenes into the tapes the screenwriter used to write the film, because I have no other explanation as to why, aside from that early fight, Kenshiro does jack shit for two-thirds of the film.  My best guess is that the writer felt that they needed some DRAMATIC CHARACTER GROWTH, but why?  Is there anyone in the conceivable target audience that would not have preferred just a linear series of Kenshiro punching people?  Or maybe it was a way to justify having Malcolm McDowell on the cast, since he randomly appears as visions, possesses little girls, and even reanimates as a zombie (I'm not even joking here), all to constantly tell Kenshiro to "STOP BEING A PUSSY BRO."

All that exhorting doesn't really come to much, as when the good guy village is raided by Shin's bad guy corps (who pilot those little mini asian taxis, which are only slightly more intimidating than the floor cleaners in space mutiny), Kenshiro just sort of peeks out from behind rocks with wacky asian teenager sidekick.  Finally, after like 90% of the village has been raped to death, Kenshiro decides to attack the bad guy camp because he really feels bad and realizes that Julia is alive after all or something.  

So it's action time, right?  The early sequence was just a taste of what to come?  No.  Instead, all the other fights are quidessential 90's low budget kung fu sequences, where nobody ever seems to get hurt, just flipped over and over.  Or slapped.  Ken slapping people.

One of the few things worth noting about this film is the hidden contest between the two main actors trying to top each other in how little they care about the film.  Both actors just have the same dead faced glare, to the point that in the final confrontation, Shin is wearing some sort of rubber butcher's smock for the sole reason of giving us a chance of telling them apart.  Also for some reason the final fight room is accented by refrigerators with Gatorade bottles and Ajax boxes, which I'd like to believe is a commentary on materialism but considering the design decisions in the rest of the movie I refuse to postulate.

No, what I want to finish this review talking about is really the only memorable aspect: 


Yes, that's Chris "chubbiest of the Penns" Penn.  In the movie, his name is "Jackel," but make no mistake, that's Jagi.  He's no longer Kenshiro's brother, but has the same delightful sociopathic attitude and the same protection from a previous Ken Punch.  

Say what you will about what led Chris to accept the role of being an evil guy wearing belts around his head, he is the only remotely fun thing about this movie.  While everyone else in the film shuffles through their lines and looks embarrassed, Chris Penn...also looks embarrassed, but he's still charismatic as fuck about playing an evil rapedude.  The only highlight of the movie is Penn's speech to the rest of the raiders, which ends with "LET'S KILL SOME PEOPLE, AND LET'S ENJOY IT."  Of course, for being the only source of joy in the film, how does he get offed?  No doubt by another AWESOME SFX ATTATATATATA HEAD EXPLOSION right?

no he tries to rape julia in a giant clock or something and she rips off his belts and his head explodes

fist of the north star

Tuesday, August 19, 2014

Zoe Quinn, Turf Wars, and God You Are Stupid

So you may or may not have heard about the latest BIG GAMING SCANDAL to hit the shores of hell in the past few days.  I mean, of course you have, and if you haven't well then go on one of the three websites that haven't gone into full lockdown mode and read it up.  The only new thing I can add to the debacle itself is that I'm surprised no one's mentioned this on Sad Beta Cuckold's million word epic:


i mean, COME ON DUDE.

But no, I'm not exactly interested in directly talking about this.  Who is exactly surprised that the person with extreme depression issues might also have some other emotional issues bundled in?  Or that game sites, using said person as a icon for discrimination in the game world (which is still a real thing, sorry nerds) because she was LOUD and FEISTY about that discrimination, are now slightly leery about reporting that she could be less than perfectly moral? Or that the nerd boyfriend exercised the well known axiom of "fool me twenty dozen times, better obsessively categorize all the ways I got humiliated?"  Zounds, ya fucks.  The only amusement I get from this whole ordeal is the sputtering rage that nerds have over the fact that even VIDEO GAMES are not safe from the concept of "woman using sex to acquire power."

The only truth that needs to be said about this is how boringly this is going to be resolved.  That is to say, like every other conflict in history that has involved two zealot factions, everyone loses except those who control the zealots.  Zoe Quinn isn't going to suffer.  She's already posted a vague blob thing about "not negotiating with terrorists" while everyone she's allied to get all their personal information hacked into.  No doubt she already has an exit strategy planned out with a guest column on Kotaku within a week.  It won't be a good column, but it doesn't have to be.   All that needs is the all important subtext: "you have defended me well, my disciples, but the war continues."  Zoe gets her game Steam Greenlit, and receives pity money for her vague game jam project, while her followers get angrier and less connected with any sort of reality.

Meanwhile, you have the Angry White Nerds, who are going to rail at the FEMINIST MAJORITY via hour long videos and screech about DMCA complaints that have no real relevance to their rabid viewership.  All that matters on these videos is how long you can ramble about the hypocriticality of women, no matter how possibly weird some of their theories could be.  This is the sort of community that, when someone posted on King Chublord Internet Aristocrat's video "hey i think your points are mostly good but why are you yelling about Phil Fish's dumb ass come on" the resulting reaction was almost entirely "FUCKING SJW EAT MY DICK SALT SALT SALT."  People claim that the hate and invective are for the sake of "protecting my video games and video game journalism integrity," but of course anyone with goddamned eyes could tell you those ships have sailed since fundamentally forever.  Let's be fucking clear here: social justice did not destroy the video game industry, the video game industry destroyed the video game industry.

No, the real purpose of these videos is the all-important subtext: "you have fought for me well, my disciples, but the war continues."  The alpha nerds keep getting more and more views for their videos (no doubt leading towards some sort of weird monetization scheme like the Dude Frequency Kickstarter thing) while the rest of the lonely nerds get angrier and pretty well guarantee they will never get a fuck.

Does no one else realize at this point that the most entrenched Gamergate and Anti-Gamergate folks are for all intents and purposes the same horrible shitheels?  Both sides can't exist without the other, since without the other posting scurrilous and insane gender theories, the first side can't post their own scurrilous and insane gender theories as a refutation.  We're not in hugboxes anymore, we're in a fucking inverse echo chamber that is just getting louder.  Neither side actually wants to talk, but keep eating the same stale talking points posted on 4chan/tumblr about how the other side is trying to ruin everything about anything while their own faction just wants to have fun and play some video games.  Trying to determine shit like whether Zoe made up her initial harassment charge against nerds or not is fucking impossible.  The truth is obviously somewhere out in the No Man's Land, but venture over the bunkers and you're immediately gonna get artillerized by a nonstop barrage of 75mm imgur albums, each shriller than the last, until finally you're forced to go "jesus christ all of you fucking suck."  Nothing is going to bridge the divide.  The volleys between outrage culture and apology culture are just gonna keep popping up at a faster and faster frequency, like a bad science fiction movie.  Then we finally immanentize the eschaton, and I wake up one morning and my laptop is wearing lipstick and ripping my dick off because I made a joke about how much I love big titties without appending a paragraph about how important the woman attached to big titties are.

The weirdest part of this stupid mess is that the Sad Beta Cuckold's stated purpose for looking like the biggest bitch on Frolix 8 was his hope that it would...someone bring together serious talk among game enthusiasts and social justice warriors about morality?  Are you joking?  Like either he's being disingenuous like everyone else in this fucking mess, or we've got someone whose relationship towards the internet is like Wile E. Coyote's relationship with boulders.

At any rate I'm already sick of talking about this tldr: everyone in the Zoe Quinn Saga could be loaded into a giant brazen bull and nothing of value would be lost

also im sorry there's no pictures here but GISing for anything related to this mess is a surefire ticket to madness