The rare b-grade action film that delivers what its title promises and its box art fails to convey: actual blood on actual hands!
Faraway signals from way-out cinema
The rare b-grade action film that delivers what its title promises and its box art fails to convey: actual blood on actual hands!
All of the genre elements of this film — martial arts, blaxploitation, gang warfare, police procedural, and man-in-a-suit monster tropes — work well individually and in combination. Of course they do! People are out there eating Mountain Dew & Doritos donuts for fuck’s sake.
This is an action film featuring the sort of hero who strains spaghetti on his kitchen countertop instead of doing it in the sink, and gets hit by two speeding cars in a row before bounding off into the woods like a fucking deer.
American cowboys have whisky, James Bond has the martini, and Euro-Cops have J&B. The Greek protagonist of 1985’s CRIME KILLER, has ouzo, the anise-flavored liqueur best served before, during, or after a meal.
A kickboxing movie which teaches us that even if your father hates your lifestyle choices, and your karate teacher threatens to kill you over your accomplishments, and your girlfriend sees no future with you, you should still pursue your dreams.
Have you ever seen a cinematic hero voluntarily crash through a patio door window to jump-kick a guy standing in a living room with no furniture? THE MASTER DEMON may be your only chance.
The criminal activity in Chinatown is escalating and the city’s police department doesn’t have enough resources. Violent gangs perform complex Tai Chi routines with impunity. Thugs in latex Halloween masks kidnap kids in broad daylight. Only a hero with a simple plan can make things right. 1991’s LETHAL NINJA spreads the havoc.
DANCE OR DIE is that rare American independent film that wants us to look at a table full of narcotics and say, “Ha! Cocaine! No big deal.”
The sort of film that gives you five straight minutes of old women eating chicken while a man in a kabuki mask performs magic tricks for a baby and a shirtless man twirls swords around in the back of a dimly-lit restaurant.
At least a decade before organized mixed martial arts provided a platform to answer questions such as “who would win in a fight between a kickboxer and a really overweight sumo wrestler?” a somewhat obscure 1985 film from West Germany sought to provide clarity to a similar proposition, with a slight sartorial spin. (“Who would win in a fight: a guy with mustache in a fur-collar leather jacket, or a tall dude with a mullet in leather pants and a white scarf?”) MACHO MAN puts real-life boxer, Rene Weller, and karate expert, Peter Althof, in a tiny wardrobe closet and shakes it vigorously to see if they’ll fight.
In the U.S., we take the influence of Hong Kong’s “Golden Age” for granted, but you can see its fingerprints on everything from the 2000 film version of CHARLIE’S ANGELS and the UNDISPUTED sequels to the Marvel Cinematic Universe and the JOHN WICK films. NO RETREAT, NO SURRENDER was a very early version of that classic Hong Kong fight choreography mapped to an American film production, and made primarily for an audience that had gotten its kicks from flicks like THE KARATE KID.
Smoking clowns, unpredictable quips, weird relationship dynamics, alcoholic benders, and murderous sleaze. TO THE DEATH is that rare breed of underground fight film that surprises, confuses, and delights.