A confusing vision of the post-apocalypse helped only by the familiar faces you’ve seen elsewhere in better films.

distant signals from the wicked weird cinema of the past
A confusing vision of the post-apocalypse helped only by the familiar faces you’ve seen elsewhere in better films.
Two kickfighting meatheads reluctantly team up to rescue the kidnapped daughter of a mutual former squeeze. Can they put aside their bitter jealousies to work towards a common goal or will they be compelled to settle their differences during a rainy and completely unnecessary mud wrestling match?
The smoke and sparks fly in Albert Pyun’s post-apocalyptic, quasi-vampire cyborg film made in Moab, Utah.
Armed with a stacked cast of genre movie veterans, a badass lead performer, and an entire warehouse full of cardboard boxes, BALLISTIC is the stuff that b-movie dreams are made of.
Years before the big-budget proselytizing of controversial figures like Mel Gibson or Jim Caviezel hit the screen, an Atlanta-area filmmaker melded moral messaging with the low-budget action ethos of companies like City Lights and PM Entertainment.
A film where underground kickboxing, blindness, bar fighting, vomiting at the morgue, and a fuzzy guitar soundtrack collide.
Kickboxing. Drugs. Radio DJs. Vigilante violence. Virginia exteriors. These are the core elements in the cinematic playbook of PSYCHO KICKBOXER.
When his brother overdoses on a new designer drug called “nirvana,” a fresh MBA graduate must choose between the stable pursuits of marriage and a burgeoning family business, or traveling to Hong Kong to learn kung fu and fight drug dealers.