Tag Archives: violence

The Multi-talented Man of Action: An Interview with Jino Kang by Kent Hill

Jino Kang, the gentle-spoken son of a Hapkido Grand Master, grew up in South Korea during the 60’s, a time when the influence of the Western world was just beginning to emerge. The Kang family immigrated to California in 70’s.

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Jino adapted quickly to a new language and culture, all the while following the traditions of his father. He opened his Martial Arts school in the 80’s (http://hapkidousa.com/http://hapkidousa.com/). Jino holds a seventh degree black belt in Hapkido and continues to teach in San Francisco.  He was inducted in to Master’s Hall of Fame in 2009.

Although Martial Arts is in Jino’s blood, he had another passion – filmmaking. He began by making movies with his friends in Junior High School, his early screen heroes were Kurosawa and his frequent leading man Toshiro Mifune. Studying at the College of Marin, Jino elevated his skills and appreciation for the craft of making movies.

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In 90’s, Jino starred in, directed and produced his first feature film, “Blade Warrior”, shot in glorious 16mm. Jino has since shot, produced, and acted in Fist 2 Fist aka Hand 2 Hand.  Fist 2 Fist won numerous awards and critically acclaimed as “belongs in the top end of the scale of Martial Arts films”. His new film, Fist 2 Fist 2: Weapon of Choice won “Action Film of the Year” at Action on Film International Film Festival in 2014. He is currently at work on new films including a short subject action series, Kid Fury, starring one of his pupils Timothy Mah.

His balletic style and approach to action cinema set him apart from the multitude of entries in the genre. I believe should he continue to embrace this as he grows in his ambition, we shall someday soon no doubt witness an action/martial arts spectacle the likes of which this world has never seen.

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Our Lady of Lethal: An Interview with Cynthia Rothrock by Kent Hill

Cynthia Ann Christine Rothrock, is an American martial artist and actress who I first encountered in a little movie called Raging Thunder or No Retreat, No Surrender 2 (part of my beloved Seasonal Films Library). From there I followed her through the China O’Brian and Martial Law movies. It is fortuitous that she shares this triple martial arts action extravaganza with Don “The Dragon” Wilson; the pair having shared the screen in a number of Cynthia credits, including The Martial Arts Kid and its forthcoming sequel.

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Rothrock holds black belt rankings in seven styles of martial arts and was a high level competitor in martial arts before becoming an actress.

It was in her hometown in Northern California in 1983 where she was on the Ernie Reyes’ West Coast Martial Arts Demonstration Team. A Leading Asian Film production company, Golden Harvest, was searching, at this time, in Los Angeles for the next Bruce Lee. Rothrock’s forms and manoeuvres were observed at a demonstration by Golden Harvest and they signed a contract with Cynthia there and then. It was two years (1985) later that she made her first martial arts movie, Yes, Madam (or Police Assassins / In the Line of Duty Part 2) which also starred Michelle Yeoh. Proving to be a box office hit, Cynthia ended up staying in Hong Kong until 1988 doing seven films there.

Rothrock would go on to be one of a handful of western performers who achieved stardom in the Hong Kong film industry, before even achieving success in their own country. Producer Pierre David initiated Rothrock’s move to back to America, offering her a co-starring role with Chad McQueen in Martial Law, Rothrock’s first U.S. production. A ten year successful career in B-grade action movies would follow in movies such as: China O’Brien and China O’Brien 2, Guardian Angel, Honour & Glory, No Retreat, No Surrender 2 and Prince of the Sun amongst a roster of thirty films

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Rothrock appeared in the television film The Dukes of Hazzard: Reunion. She was also the inspiration for the video game character Sonya Blade from the game Mortal Kombat, though was given neither credit nor compensation. After the film Sci-Fighter, she retired from acting to teach martial arts at her studio in California. She made her comeback in 2012 with a role in the family film Santa’s Summer House, and in 2014, she starred in the action movie Mercenaries, (the all-female Expendables) alongside Kristanna Loken, Brigitte Nielsen, Vivica A. Fox and Zoë Bell directed by Chris Olen Ray.

Like her contemporaries of the genre, Cynthia is still going strong, busy with slate of movies either in the works or beginning production. She is dynamic, fearsome and as I’m sure Cynthia will tell you herself . . . she isn’t too old to quit kicking ass yet.

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C7DTnJSX0WQ

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Enter “The Dragon”: An Interview with Don Wilson by Kent Hill

When you used to decide to hit the video store (back in the day) and roam the aisles in search of hidden gems, you’d discover a great many things. Sometimes it was the films in total – other times it was a star you seemed to have an unending body of work.

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That was my first impression of Don “The Dragon” Wilson. There always seemed to be more and more movies that he had been in. So, being the completest I am, I sought out each, any and every film he was in.

Don “The Dragon” Wilson is a world champion kickboxer, a European Martial Arts Hall of Famer and an action film actor. He has been called “Perhaps the greatest kickboxer in American history.”

Some (and I stress the word SOME) movies to his credit include: Futurekick, Bloodfist 1-8, Ring of Fire 1, 2 & 3, Out for Blood, Operation Cobra, Blackbelt, Cyber Tracker 1 & 2, Terminal Rush, Redemption, Say Anything, Capitol Conspiracy and Batman Forever as the leader of the Neon Gang. You can judge the scale of a film’s budget by the quality of the craft services. In the case of is brief but memorable appearance in Batman Forever, there would be no mere fold-out table with ice mochas and Doritos. No, Don found  the whereabouts of a catering trailer in which stood a chef, ready to cook him whatever he desired.

But back to the movies – Don’s career has been motoring along for decades – and he shows no sign of slowing down. With films like The Martial Arts Kid and Paying Mr. McGetty along with several others waiting in the wings, Don “The Dragon” Wilson is still as vital and explosive as ever. I for one can’t wait to see where journey goes from here.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C7DTnJSX0WQ

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HE IS NED: An Interview with Max Myint by Kent Hill

2015 was the year. I was in Brisbane, Queensland, Australia at our version of San Diego’s Comic Con: SuperNova. I was there peddling my books but, in the booth next to mine, something amazing was afoot.

A giant banner held the image of the famous, or perhaps infamous Australian bush-ranger Ned Kelly; transformed and repackaged as vigilante, looking battle-damaged and bad-ass holding the severed head of a zombie in one hand and a loaded pistol in the other.

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That image invoked more than history and cultural iconography. It spoke to me as a concept so simple, yet compellingly cinematic. He is one of our country’s most treasured pieces from the past in a fresh guise and pitted against a dark, futuristic dystopia where the undead have evolved and formed a society in which humanity is not only a minority, but is being systematically wiped out.

Max Myint leads the creative team, spearheading, if you will, the rise of this epic saga of the man called Ned. A talented writer, sculptor and world-builder, the gutsy, gritty dark realm that he has helped usher in is about to explode on November 10. In the midst of the stench of rotting flesh and the searing of metal is something that commands attention. I for one can’t wait to see Ned’s rise and rise continue, and Max and his talented team blast this thing out into the masses . . . and watch it catch fire.

The living have surrendered…

Except for one man…

They call him Ned!

https://www.facebook.com/Iamnedcomic/

https://podcastingthemsoftly.com/2016/08/04/not-yet-a-major-motion-picture-but-hopefully-one-day-an-interview-wit-the-creators-of-the-man-they-call-ned-by-kent-hill/

‘Logan’ Review: Hugh Jackman’s final Wolverine film is a bloody, heartfelt farewell to the last X-Man- by Josh Hains

Before I break into the review portion of this piece, special mention must be made of the alleged cut scene from Deadpool 2 that serves as a preview or teaser of sorts for the upcoming sequel to the R rated smash hit. I greatly enjoyed experiencing the company of the darkly comical Merc With A Mouth once again, to the tune of John Williams’ epic Superman: The Movie score, and the song that closes out the late Tony Scott’s underrated True Romance. What a fun little riot, a pleasant albeit all too brief little tease of the pleasures to come. Cue the music!

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In 2029, the ageing James ‘Logan’ Howlett (Hugh Jackman) is a pale shadow of the once iconic mutant hero he used to be, Wolverine, popularized in comics that both exaggerate and sanitize the truth. Mutants are extinct save for Logan, Professor Charles Xavier (Sir Patrick Stewart), and the albino mutant Caliban (Stephen Merchant). A mutant birth hasn’t been recorded in 25 years either. Logan is an alcoholic, sporting a visible limp and a frequent cough, and a cynical, cantankerous, almost always pissed off demeanor. He’s kind of an asshole now. His body is slowly breaking down thanks to the cancerous adamantium that covers his entire bone structure and trademark claws, his wounds healing slower and leaving big ugly scars. He’s also plagued by nightmares if the brutal acts committed against and by him. At 200 years old, Logan has experienced multiple lifetimes of violence, tragedy, loss, heartbreak, and grief, the result of which coupled with his age, has broken the poor guy’s soul. He lacks the conviction and strength to get through each day, hence his worsening alcoholism and overbearing cynicism. Life has truly beat the hell out of Logan, yet he presses onward. If an adamantium bullet doesn’t kill him, time, our own worst enemy, surely will. Eventually. By this juncture in Logan’s life, violence isn’t just a way of dealing with other violent beings, it’s become a part of who he is, as if a genetic code for violence is coursing through his veins.

Logan works day and night as a limousine driver in Texas for the kind of drunken party girls who like to flash the driver, and foolhardy guys that dickishly chant jingoistic phrases. His work provides him with just enough cash to afford him the medicine he and Caliban require to help control a neurodegenerative disease that produces seizures Charles is suffering from, the result of which if left untreated renders anyone in the vicinity, save for Logan, temporarily paralyzed, or dead. They live in seclusion in a dingy private smelting plant in Mexico, until their relatively peaceful existence is shattered by the arrival of a merciless cybernetically enhanced assholes called the Reavers. They’re led by Wolverine fanboy and henchman Donald Pierce (Boyd Holbrook), and Zander Rice (Richard E. Grant), a bioengineer and Donald’s boss. They’re seeking the mute Laura aka X-23 (newcomer Dafne Keen), an 11 year old mutant who bears eerie resemblance to Logan. I think we all know why. A brutal encounter sends the trio on their way to Eden, a supposed place of salvation for young mutants in North Dakota, with the Reavers hot on their trail. Yes, this is a road movie but don’t worry, it’s a great one.

I’ve been an X-Men fan since I was a little kid, watching the ’90’s animated series on television, watching every live action movie adaptation, and collecting action figures and comic books along the way. I don’t have anything against PG-13 movies or comic book movies, with the sole exception that the rating limits on-screen violence. I’ll gladly watch jokey, fun superhero flicks any day of the week, a few of which even populate my own favourite films list. But Logan required an R rating to get across the precise tone director James Mangold and Hugh Jackman have been aiming for over the last few years. Just like many other fans, I’ve been waiting 17 years to see Wolverine finally cut loose and tear people to shreds the way I’ve always known he can, because foot-long metal claws from the strongest metal on the planet (in their reality), don’t just poke the bad guy – they dismember, disembowel, and decapitate. Rest assured, he finally does in Logan.

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The rumours are true, Logan is packed with plenty of bloody violence, far from tame, and with enough blood soaked carnage to satisfy even the most bloodthirsty gore-hounds. Heads roll, limbs fly off, threats are ripped open wide, and buckets of blood are spilled as Logan finally delivers a whopping heap of berserker rage fuelled killings throughout its 135 minute runtime, especially in two scenes of 100% pure classic Wolverine berserker rage that will blow minds. Two fight scene in particular, one midway through the movie, and the other the bloodstained finale, offer up some of the most intense, brutal, and graphic comic book movie violence committed to film. These two scenes in  particular are stand-out action set pieces due to the physical and dramatic weight the R rating allows them to possess. When Logan becomes physically drained, weakened by multiple gunshots (*spoiler alert* or stabs wounds from an experimental clone of himself *end of spoiler*), we feel his exhaustion through his body language and facial expressions. When he or Laura are dispatching foes left and right, we feel the primal anger and blood lust. A PG-13 movie could never have that dramatic heft to it. Logan also bears a significant amount of profanity, enough to rival last year’s similarly R rated comic book movie hit Deadpool, but unlike that movie, profanity isn’t used like a comedic tool to up the wattage of vulgarity as was needed. Rather, the frequent uses of the f-bomb accentuate the anger and frustration the characters (Logan in particular), are experiencing at any given moment. Logan isn’t for the faint of heart, but there’s more to Logan than just gory violence.

Hugh Jackman deserves an Oscar for his performance as Logan. I’m not just saying that for the sake of it. Hugh has never given a more layered, meaningful, naturalistic performance in the 17 years I’ve been watching his movies. If Logan is a truly his final outing as the iconic character, I don’t think he could have given a better performance than what you’ll see in Logan. The script by Mangold and co-writers Scott Frank and Michael Green, along with that R rating, affords Jackman the opportunity to work with dialogue and scenes that at ask for more of dramatic work than physical, allowing Hugh to go to places he wouldn’t otherwise be able to reach. It’s the work of an actor who knows this character better than anyone else outside of his creators, who isn’t simply playing a role, but living within the skin of him. He is our Logan, through and through in every way in this subtle, deeply human performance. Sir Patrick Stewart has never been better as Charles Xavier, and acting on the assumption that this is also his final turn as his iconic character, as reported in recent days, I couldn’t have asked for a more fitting end to his reign. Dafne Keen needs an X-23 movie pronto, she’s so good for such a young newcomer. Boyd Holbrook makes for a menacing villain, his smooth talking Texas accented Donald acting as quite the ice cold delight in a sea of CGI, oversized doomsday super villains, and Richard E. Grant gives multiple dimensions to his Zander, bringing a welcomed honesty, tenderness, and sheer cruelty to what could have otherwise been a thinly developed villain.

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At first glance, Logan is a comic book movie meant to bring a satisfactory yet heartbreaking end to a 17 year long career and story arc spent on the iconic hero. Peel back the layers and it’s a redemption through justice and revenge western tale, the kind kind of story carried through history books for centuries to come. Logan is right from the get-go, a classic western yarn, and the best kind too. The kind of western where a tired gunfighter has to take up their guns one last time in the name of frontier justice. The western frontier may be gone, but the idea of the stubborn hero who needs persuading still exists, right down to the classic Shane appearing on a hotel television.

That Logan uses a couple of the same tropes seen in westerns decades ago doesn’t mean the film is a slave to those tropes, as Logan firmly stands on its own two feet as a unique amalgamation of comic book fantasy, the classic western, and the modern family road trip drama. Remove the use of mutant powers and you have a modern day western about a tortured soul waiting for death to end his suffering, until his skills are called upon to assist those in need, one last time. Hollywood hasn’t run out of fresh ideas, rather they’ve just found creative ways of reinventing the wheel from time to time. Taking the fantastical world of the X-Men and grounding it in the themes of the classic American western is a brilliant manner of humanizing and personalizing Logan’s story. Logan has more in common with Clint Eastwood’s Unforgiven than any of the X-Men movies that precede it. The presence of X-Men comics in the film (real comic books with newly commissioned art by their original artist Dan Panosian), seems to suggest that the world in which the previous 9 X-Men movies occupied may also have been a sanitized embellishment of the grim world Logan inhabits. I quite enjoy the notion. 

Last year Deadpool proved an R rated comic book movie about a fourth wall breaking, profane, crudely humourous, violent mercenary out to rescue his lover and not look like an avocado had sex with an older more disgusting avocado, could out perform multiple other comic book movies released this past decade, if the correct amount of love and respect are applied to the material. This year, Logan has proven that Deadpool’s success wasn’t just beginner’s luck, but that lightning struck twice because just as much love, passion, and respect were applied in all the right places. That they had the balls to make a commercial comic book movie about a broken man learning to love one last time, proves they broke the mould when they made Logan. That we’ll likely never see another comic book movie that treads these waters again is fine by me. I wouldn’t want it any other way. This final ride was perfect.

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John Hillcoat’s Triple 9: A review by Nate Hill

John Hillcoat’s Triple 9. Bloody. Nasty. Blistering. Nihilistic. And surprisingly deft in its presentation of character. The only clear cut, out and out protagonist is Casey Affleck’s Marcus Allen, a young detective with a wife and kid, brutally unaware that he’s been targeted by a group of stunningly dirty cops and a few ex special forces hardcases to bite the dust in a planned homicide, sparking an ‘officer down’ over the airwaves to distract the force from what’s really going down. With the exception of his straight arrow heroics, the entire rest of the cast is a snake pit of depraved, slimy, reprehensible degenerates, populating a decayed, gang infested Atlanta where the cops are just as likely to empty a clip into your skull as the cholos. Chiwetel Efjor plays Atwood, leader of a most unfortunate crew of misfits who are forced to perform near suicidal heists for tyrannical Israeli-Russian mafia bitch Irena (a bleach blond, terrifying Kate Winslet). Their newest venture is so impossible that they’re attempting to use a slain officer as a ditch effort to get their stake. Of course it all goes to high hell, as we’ve come to expect and love in these type of films, with bullets, profanity, self destructive behaviour and wanton violence languishing all over the screen in glorious excess. Efjor is crackling good, showing brief glimpses of humanity in a dude who has lost his soul down a deep dark well, a caged animal fighting tooth and nail to no avail. The rest of his crew spend the film savagely trying to out – sleaze each other, and I mean that in the best way possible. They are really a bunch of snot rags, and this is a group of outstanding actors having bushels of fun being irredeemable bad boys. Anthony Mackie is walking C-4 as Efjor’s right hand, a guy rotten to the marrow with moral conflict. Norman Reedus leaks grease as an ex special ops prick and their getaway driver. I didn’t think Aaron Paul could be anymore despicable than in breaking bad, but somehow manages it here, playing a dude so grungy you’ll squirm. It’s Clifton Collins Jr. who scores the points though. He hasn’t had a great role in years and he comes out blazing as the icy sociopath of the group. Then there’s Woody Harrelson. Oh, Woody. He’s clearly having a ball as Affleck’s stoner uncle and high ranking cop. He spends the entire film ripped off his gourd on joint after joint, and take it from me, he knows how to play stoned impeccably. Despite the laconic bumbling, he shows that fire and ferocity we’ve come to know from him in brief unmistakable flashes, especially where it matters. Throw in Teresa Palmer as Affleck’s loving wife and Gal Gadot in full slut mode and you’ve got a cast for the time capsule. Hillcoat wastes not a second in propelling his narrative forward with the force of a bulldozer, giving us minute moments of respite amongst the surging monsoon of bloodshed and dirty deeds. Composer Atticus Ross whips up a foreboding, hair raising war cry of a score that kicks in from the first frame and doesn’t quit till the last shell casing has hit the ground. The only misstep the film makes is killing off its best actor way too early on, vut its not enough to be an actual concern or hurt it overall. If sickeningly satisfying ballets of blood, broken limbs and morally bankrupt people engaging in all kinds of giddily fun criminal activities are your thing, this is a great way to kick off the year, cinematically speaking. Hell even if it’s not your thing go check it out. It’ll shake your shit up and then some.

Quentin Tarantino’s The Hateful Eight: A Review By Nate Hill

If Quentin Tarantino has achieved anything in his love letters to the spaghetti western genre, it’s his notable subtraction of the noodles from aforementioned dish, leaving decadent swaths of scarlet marinara sauce to be flung about the screen as blazing bullets rock various characters to their bones, sending blood all over the place in quantities that defy physics or biology. He did it with Django, and he does it again with The Hateful Eight, a somber, simmering snow opera that fell just south of winning me over entirely. Don’t get me wrong: there’s much merit to be found here, and as usual QT has a solid gold ear for dialogue that is as pleasing to the ear as Ennio Morricone’s unusually restrained, palm sweating score. He also shows his uncanny knack for chasing awesome actors out of the woodwork and casting them in his films. In his attempts to resurrect 70mm panavision he has achieved undisputed success. I’m also a sucker for both Agatha Christie style mysteries and snowbound locations (and what locations!!), both of which are in abundance here. And yet.. something just didn’t quite click for me, story wise. Perhaps it’s the fact that trailers had worked my imagination up to imposible heights of intrigue that couldn’t be brought to the table with this tale. In that regard, I suppose it’s my own fault. In any case, the eventual revelations just didn’t feel as profound and fitting after having sat through the endless, tantalizing set up. But oh, what a set up. QT deliberately marinates his characters in a stew of unease and malcontent, each player a grizzled picture of vague evil intent, firing missiles of distrust and loathing at one another until the ill will is as thick as the snow drifts they fight through. In the throes of a gathering blizzard, bounty hunter John ‘The Hangman’ Ruth (Kurt Russell in a sly nod of the head to beloved R.J. Macready, only saltier and far meaner) leads shackled prisoner Daisy Domergue (Jennifer Jason Leigh in the best performance of the film) to the town of Red Rock, to be hung. Along the way, and with much chatter, he picks up two stragglers: pissy fellow hunter Major Marquis Warren (Samuel L.Jackson) and one Chris Mannix (Walton Goggins). They arrive at Minnie’s Haberdashery, an oasis in the sea of winter, where four other undesirables have already shacked up in refuge: Owaldo Mobrey (Tim Roth earns his keep and then some) a self proclaimed hangman with some serious pep in his step, crusty confederate Sanford Smithers (Bruce Dern), Bob the Mexican (Demian Bichir is restrained comic perfection) and dangerous looking cowboy Joe Gage (Michael Madsen, that gravel voiced wildcat, is always awesome). They all hunker down to ride out the storm and quickly begin to realize that one or more amongst them isn’t who they say they are, and there’s devilry afoot. Sound intriguing? It did to me too, and I can’t say much about what exactly let me down without giving stuff away, but it just felt like such a pedestrian knockoff of a second act after the absolute slow burning joy of a guessing game which preceded it. Maybe it’s a bit like a Christmas present: you spend months in a giddy daze wondering what you’ll get, you get there christmas morning and there your present is: shiny, gleaming and filled with endless possibility, but unmistakably shaped by your specific anticipation of what lays within. You open your present… and there it is, mystery evaporated, no longer a present but an actual object, or in this case a story that you must wrestle with to appease the lingering wonder of what you expected, as opposed to what you got. I know it’s too much to expect every film to be that perfect christmas present that is as satisfying wrapped as unwrapped, but with QT’s stuff I feel I always act that way a bit, having pictured my definitive version of the films before having seen them, and feelng somewhat underwhelmed. That’s not to say I didn’t enjoy it: It’s chock full of macabre surprises, earnest performances and expectedly nasty violence. Jennifer Jason Leigh owns as Daisy, a frothing feral beast. Leigh has no shortage of courage in taking on courageous, unflattering roles, and she dives right into this one with fists and teeth clenched, eyes narrowed and a steely will to survive. It’s truly a blessing to see her on the big screen again and I hope to see more in the future. There’s one casting decision which almost ruined the last act for me. I won’t spoil it here but the ‘actor’ in question is so unbelievably untalented and sticks out like ten sore thumbs in his ineptitude, really making me wonder about QT’s sanity. The rest of the cast makes up for it in spades though, particularly Madsen, Roth and Russell. Goggins also gets loads to do and does it with grinning flair that would make Boyd Crowder proud. The cinematography by legendary Robert Richardson is staggeringly beautiful. The wintry Vistas sweep by in splendor, eventually moving inward to the firelit cabin where everything has a burnished, lived-in texture that’s transfixing to look at. If only the story had the weight and impact I was expecting, I could have given this glowing accolades, but there’s always next time. Gorgeous Tarantino outing with a cast that chomps at the bit relentlessly, and although it ultimately falls short, it’s quite the piece of cinema all the same.