Kickboxer 3: The Art of War (1992) &
Kickboxer 4: The Aggressor (1994)
Review by Doc Ezra
Film:
DVD:

Written by Dennis A. Pratt/Albert Pyun
Directed by Rick King/Albert Pyun
Starring Sasha Mitchell, Dennis Chan, Richard Comar, Noah Verduzco, Nicholas Guest, Michele "Mouse" Krasnoo, and Brad Thornton

Released by: Artisan
Region: 1
Rating: R
Anamorphic: Nope; full frame only.

My Advice: Go spar with a friend and tape it with a handheld. The results will have more entertainment value.

After the first Van Damme-less follow-up in the Kickboxer series grossed just over $1 million, you'd think that financial reality would demand that the hurting stop. Not so, alas, as Sasha Mitchell just keeps getting work. This disc represents the (to date) final two installments in the "storied" franchise, and the sheer awful badness of both films makes it even more mystifying that these sequels to a mediocre movie ever got churned out in the first place.

Kickboxer 3: The Art of War (these subtitles don't mean anything at all, mind you, they're just there to push rentals to suckers) revolves around world champion kickboxer David Sloan (Mitchell) traveling to Rio de Janeiro for an upcoming title bout. After a street urchin steals his camera, Sloan chases the kid through the city, gets to beat up a couple of thugs, and gets his camera back, striking a deal with the lovable scamp, Marcos (Verduzco), to be his guide in the city. Sloan's trainer, the legendary Xian (Chan) begins attempting to right Marcos of his thieving ways and live a more enlightened life, to predictable wackiness. When the manager of Sloan's blood-thirsty psycho opponent kidnaps Marcos' sister to be part of his harem of sex slaves, the kickboxer sets out to exact some cheezy martial arts justice. Hijinks ensue.

Kickboxer 4: The Aggressor (again with the meaningless subtitle) starts with Sloan mysteriously in jail, apparently having been framed for murder while working with the DEA to transport a prisoner to the States. "Qua?", I can hear you asking. The unexpected total lack of continuity between films 3 and 4 struck me as a bit odd, also. A little investigation reveals that this fourth installment is intended to renew the ongoing rivalry between the Sloan family and sadistic evil kickboxer Tong Po. Unfortunately, they couldn't get Michel Qissi (the original Tong Po) near this film with a cattle prod, so they fall back on another Van Damme collaborator, Kamel Krifa, throw a really bad make-up job on him, and don't credit him in hopes that people don't notice the switch. To be honest, anybody with that much depth of knowledge regarding the Kickboxer films deserves what they get, and I don't know anybody with so little self-esteem that they'd admit to noticing the difference. This time, it's Tong Po who has the harem of sex slaves, and David's wife has been a captive there for two years while David sat in prison. He goes to Mexico to Tong Po's compound to fight in a million-dollar no-holds-barred fighting tournament to get her back. Hijinks ensue.

There's really little else to say, honestly. Both movies are abysmally bad. Acting is a foreign concept to pretty much everybody involved. Mitchell's portrayal of David is entirely different in the two films, though this may have as much to do with the complete disconnect in their stories as anything...he may simply be unsure how to handle the move from "celebrity kickboxing sportsman" to "ex-DEA agent framed and in prison" with no actual story to bridge that gap. Now, if the bad scripts and acting had been accompanied by some seriously well-choreographed ass-kicking, the movies could have invoked the Hong Kong Kung Fu defense. Alas, the fight sequences are lame, the choreography is bad, and only a few of the people involved even look like they know a touch of some martial art or other. The rest is biker-looking guys with bad mullets, big moustaches, and very little coordination.

Other than getting two films on one disc, there are no features. And given how bad the movies are, the whole "two-for-one" aspect may be more a curse than a blessing. And both are presented in glorious full-frame, but again I wonder if I haven't actually been spared some anguish by having both ends of the film cut off so that I couldn't see them. Stay well away, boys and girls. This one's dangerous.