The Karate Kid

admin — Wed, 16 Jun 2010 23:59:00 +0000

Age has always been a dicey variable in the Karate Kid universe. In The Karate Kid, Part III — perhaps the most preposterous entry in the series — the twenty-eight-year-old Ralph Macchio passed himself off as a “kid” abandoning college, with his character dating the seventeen-year-old Robyn Lively (thus lending a creepy and statutory quality to the relationship). This time around, the “kid” is truly a kid — even if the “karate” is kung fu and not karate.

The martial arts here, a watered-down take on Yuen Woo-ping, are both hilarious and disturbing. Here is a film that asks us to celebrate Jaden Smith beating another twelve-year-old in the face — a move that would surely have disqualified him from the 1984 original’s All Valley Karate Tournament — shortly after he has pinned his opponent on the mat. The remake’s aggressive sound mix invites us to revel in the bone-crunching prospects of children being thrown into the air and viciously attacked, demonstrating that America’s post-Guantanamo moral laxity has expanded considerably since Jack Bauer first waterboarded a suspect. And I’ll certainly be curious if some family values moralist emerges from the log cabin to condemn the film’s fondness for having kids beating the shit out of each other.

Jaden Smith’s Dre Parker isn’t nearly as winning as Daniel Larusso. Where Daniel was a decent kid from New Jersey who immediately introduced himself to a crazy old woman in the apartment building and brought her dog a bowl of water, immediately securing audience sympathy, Dre is more of a spoiled brat who drops his jacket on the floor, whines too much, and doesn’t even have Daniel’s soccer ball bouncing moves to impress the girl. It also doesn’t help that Jaden Smith has an annoying habit of mugging for the camera. He rolls his eyes and folds his face to the spectator instead of inhabiting his character the way that Macchio did.

Even though it’s more entertaining than most remakes, 2010’s The Karate Kid can’t come close to matching the original. And that’s because the 1984 movie was something of a masterpiece. Aside from the original’s clever method of using the Protestant work ethic as a pretext for “training” (one might make a case that Daniel’s dawn-to-dusk shifts are one of Hollywood’s greatest portrayals of efficacious slave labor), the movie was a sneaky parable about cultural appropriation. Kreese (the Martin Kove character), the military man turned dojo master, and the Cobra clan, with its Erhardian “No Fear! No Mercy!” mantra, not only presented us with a shameful bastardization of karate’s peaceful roots, but it certainly helped that Kreese, Johnny, and the various lieutenants acted like a cokehead asshole brigade. Miyagi lost his wife and daughter for reasons that involved a Japanese internment camp — one of the most disgraceful moments in American history. And the class divide between Daniel and “Ali with an I,” when taken with the feminism of Ali pursuing Daniel (rather than the reverse) and clocking the boorish Johnny, created an environment where hard work and a commitment to discipline could pull you through the American nightmare.

All this is too bad. Because had the remake’s script considered the original film’s underlying principle — that resorting to violence is only applicable when there are no other choices — it might have packed a greater punch.

Excerpted from a longer, more detailed review at Ed Rants

Written by: Edward Champion, June 16th 2010

Chosen By Desire (The Guardians of Destiny)

admin — Fri, 15 Jan 2010 01:00:00 +0000

By Kate Perry

Forever

Kate Perry is a pretty kickass chick. Her childhood dream was to be a ninja, and she's now a seventh degree Kung Fu blackbelt. The serious study required in kung fu appears to have colored her novel, giving the 'paranormal' elements of this paranormal romance a more grounded feel than most Asian-inspired material written by Westerners.

Second in The Guardians of Destiny series, Chosen By Desire continues the modern legend of the Scrolls of Destiny, ancient writings that impart elemental powers on those who study them. Our heroine, Carrie, is a doctoral candidate looking for something to spice up her dissertation. On a tip, she travels to a Chinese monastery where her snooping uncovers exactly what she's looking for. Frantic not to get caught, she stuffs the scrolls in her bag to study later. To ease her conscience, she promises herself she will return them as soon as her paper is approved, and she's won a coveted position at her university.

But the legend is true and the current Guardians are onto her. Max, an American tapped to hold the power of Metal, follows her to California. Convinced that she is working with his rival to damage him, he invites Carrie into his home to translate the texts in his collection, giving him a chance to study her and learn her plans.

The book starts out well. Perry is good with scenes of action and tension (including sexual), but when times are good and everyone's relaxed she tends to lean on cliché. Max is the alpha male who is unable to trust, but I don't see why Carrie calls him arrogant, except that that's a stock description for that archetype. Due to the Power of Lourve, he makes an awfully fast switch from suspicion to loyalty. Then there is my least favorite Conflict Trope: everything could be resolved if people just talked to each other. Given, Perry does a much better job establishing why these people are close-lipped, but Carrie holds on to crucial information for way too long, even after she and Max are all but together.

Though I enjoyed the book for what it was (read: escapist fiction), I find myself dwelling more on its problems than its strengths. Carrie is a confused character. She has to be a Middle American Good Girl. Believably flawed, a serious doctoral candidate worthy of a professorship, and a sassy slang-slinging modern heroine all at once. Ultimately, she doesn't solve the mystery, save herself or anyone else's life, and she definitely doesn't find personal power (paranormal or otherwise). Things are just a little too easy for Carrie, sliding in and out of trouble without any lasting damage or lessons.

This is a shame, because Perry is not a terrible writer. I think she got caught up in what this sort of book is "supposed" to be like. She cut off her natural ability to render her characters as dynamic, interesting people. Writing romances is much more challenging than people think. I'm not going to give up on Perry, but I hope she gives herself the freedom to go a little wild and throw the formulas out.

Written by: Richenda Gould, January 14th 2010