Tag: slow motion

Forced Vengeance (1982)

FORCED VENGEANCE (1982) **1/2
Slow motion’s absolutely vital to understanding the cinematic and TV work of the one and only Carlos Ray Norris.

Slow motion’s everywhere, in action movies, sporting events, movie musicals, etc. To the point that we don’t even realize how everywhere it’s become.

Over the decades, for example, slow motion became a customary tool in violent scenes, from Arthur Penn’s Bonnie and Clyde and Sam Peckinpah’s The Wild Bunch to The Matrix and beyond. Sometimes, I think Gee whiz, that’s awesome and very artfully done, but mostly I just think That’s super lame. I take off points for the obligatory and cheap use of slow motion.

Let’s see, off the top of my head, I deducted from The Lion King and Teen Wolf and Young Guns for their abuse of slow motion late in their motion picture spreads, while Kickboxer 2 flogs viewers with slow motion until it’s like receiving a slow motion roundhouse upside the head. For crying out loud, though, it’s slow motion, super slow even, and that gives us a greater chance to duck out of the way and to see all the cheap audience manipulation at play. I mean, I ducked the Kickboxer 2 roundhouse and found the Siskel & Ebert review playing alongside the movie inside my head esp. Ebert imitating the sounds of slow motion. It was more entertaining that way.

That brings us full roundhouse back to Norris, one of the foremost slow motion abusers.

A former co-worker said that his ears were ringing for a long time after he watched the Who play one of the Day on the Green concerts at Oakland-Alameda County Coliseum. He talked about being whacked upside the head by their incredible Wall of Noise. I soaked up this conversation.

“In 1976, the Who entered the Guinness Book of World Records for performing the loudest concert in history at the time during their concert at England’s Charlton Athletic Grounds with 76,000 watts at 120 decibels. This record would stand for nearly a decade.”

You can bet they used the Rock-o-meter from Rock ‘N’ Roll High School.

Anyway, now I will make the case for something that’s louder than any rock concert or sporting event, any plane taking flight, any hyena’s laugh, and any howler monkey.

For a couple months, I visited my Grandma for her bingo dominance Tuesday and Thursday. After the bingo hour, we’d return to her room and she’d turn her TV back on. Naturally, it would be Walker, Texas Ranger on Hallmark. Of course. At 3 every day, every single TV in the nursing home would simultaneously be turned on full volume and tuned in to Walker, Texas Ranger. That’d be probably close to 100 TVs. Yeah, we’ll go with 100 for the sake of hyperbole.

I’ve never in my life heard anything louder than 100 full blast TVs simultaneously reverberating Walker slow motion roundhouse kicks.

Guinness, book it.

I deducted a half-star from Forced Vengeance because it broke through my pain threshold for slow motion consumption early on during the final act leading toward a grand finale.

You have been forewarned.

Once again, though, a poster for a Norris spectacular earns four stars.

Kickboxer 2 (1991)

KICKBOXER 2

KICKBOXER 2 (1991) *1/2

En route to the cinematic crapper, Albert Pyun’s KICKBOXER 2 abuses two of the worst cinematic devices: slow motion and an offscreen death.

On their review program, Gene Siskel and Roger Ebert pointed out how much Pyun and the picture relied on slow motion during the fight scenes. Ebert claimed they used slow motion for every single moment of every single fight scene in the movie, including for the voices of the announcer and the referee, but that the sound effects guy must not have got the same memo because all the punches and kicks sounded like they were in regular motion. Siskel accused Ebert of eating spiked popcorn. Bottom line: If only KICKBOXER 2 had been half as entertaining as the Siskel & Ebert review.

Let’s take the fight that’s right smack dab in the middle of the picture, between our principled, reluctant-to-fight hero David Sloan’s former protege Brian “The Hammer” Wagner (Vince Murdocco) and the super villainous Tong Po (Michel Qissi) who’s back from KICKBOXER: THE MOTION PICTURE (not its real title). Brian Wagner dies in the ring from a series of brutal slow motion kicks and punches and other blows to the body. Coming that slow, he should have seen it coming and got out of the way. No, no, no, of course not, Brian Wagner wanted to die. Okay, maybe not wanted to die per se, but he was destined to die in that post-Apollo Creed ROCKY IV way. Anyway, we knew he was going to die from early in the picture, when his worried mother told David Sloan (Sasha Mitchell) that she’s afraid for her son and made Mr. Sloan promise to look after him. Brian Wagner further sealed his cinematic doom by walking away from David Sloan and cursing him on the way to greener pastures, by taking the easy fights and that cheap nickname, by allowing himself to be pumped full of steroids, and finally by his defiant overconfidence and his blatant refusal to surrender to his opponent. Yes, yes, he deserved to die.

The final buildup to Wagner’s death hits us over the head with a slow-moving sledge hammer. Not only are Tong Po and Brian Wagner in super duper excruciating slow motion, but Wagner’s poor mother and David Sloan are both moving like that in the crowd … in a cinematic technique derived especially from the later ROCKY pictures, you know when Clubber Lang and Ivan Drago are beating the brain stuffing out of Rocky (or Apollo Creed) and Rocky’s corner men or even his poor, poor wife Adrian are laboriously freaking out but ultimately helpless in the face of slow motion annihilation. I am so, so glad this overdone cinematic technique eventually faded away.

Offscreen deaths are usually cheap and sometimes, they’re even worse. For example, Hicks and Newt at the beginning of ALIEN 3. That one left millions reeling and they’re still talking about it today flabbergasted and frustrated.

In KICKBOXER 2, we are informed that Tong Po killed both David Sloan’s older brothers, including KICKBOXER protagonist Kurt Sloane (Jean-Claude Van Damme), after the events of the first movie and before the events of the second one. And to think Kurt avenged his paralyzed older brother Eric Sloane (played by former world kickboxing champion Dennis Alexio) against Tong Po for the big thrilling conclusion of KICKBOXER.

Yes, that’s right, Sloan and Sloane, that’s what really confused this unfrozen caveman writer. Sloan’s older brothers each have an ‘e’ on the end of their surname. Fascinating. Let’s see here: Van Damme speaks with a thick Franco-Belgian accent, while Sasha Mitchell, why he’s just a poor man’s Keanu Reeves. Bizarre family that must really get around. Ironically enough, though, Mitchell has been called both a poor man’s Keanu and a poor man’s Jean-Claude. Mitchell’s not without a slight charm, however, and he’s definitely not the biggest problem in KICKBOXER 2. The film’s biggest problem is that we’ve seen it all done before … and better numerous times.

KICKBOXER 2 lacks the off-the-wall qualities of a Shaw Brothers spectacular or a truly batty WTF exploitation picture like NINJA III: THE DOMINATION and SAMURAI COP, as well as the genuine pathos of ROCKY and THE KARATE KID. It is neither truly good enough nor bad enough to be any good.