Blazing Fists
by Hope Madden
Just when you think you’ve figured filmmaker Takashi Miike out, he does something to remind you that, with more than 100 films to his credit, crossing every conceivable genre and several languages, you probably have not.
This week’s feature, Blazing Fists (also known as Blue Fight: The Breaking Down of Young Blue Warriors) delivers a weird mix of the ponderously earnest, the slyly comical, and—at long last—smashingly choreographed violence.
The film is loosely based on the autibiography of Mikuru Asakura, who serves as producer. We follow Ikito (Danhi Kinoshita) and Ryoma (Kaname Yoshizawa), who meet in juvenile detention. Things are terribly tidy and motivational speakers come by. One guard is rude.
Onward! Ikito’s father is in prison awaiting trial but never mind that because it goes essentially nowhere. The point is, the young men’s motivational speaker has convinced them that if they are undeterred in their preparation, they can do anything. So, they’ve decided to make it to the speaker’s MMA show, Breaking Down.
Cue the training montage (the first of several). On release, Ikito and Ryoma take jobs close to a gym. Job skill and training montage! But a colorfully dressed gang of bullies wants them gone. And there are love interests, but only for the bullies. Plus some kind of insane, leather clad Yakuza style gang, and a snotty rich kid who kickboxes for college. Everyone wants to fight!
There is too much Karate Kid style “boys learning something today,” too much bruised masculinity, and enough dialog heavy/reaction heavy scenes to bring every hint of momentum to a screeching halt.
Blazing Fists does boast a handful of Miike’s playfully weird scenes with random characters—usually oddly dressed old men—to inject a bit of fun into the film.
Miike can do just about anything: horror, samurai action, kid-friendly action, police procedurals, yakuza, fisticuffs action, historical drama, supernatural, grindhouse, surreal. He’s even done a musical! But the straight up sports drama does not seem a good fit for the genre maestro.
Miike avoids the obvious rags to riches climb to the top story arc that serves so many sports films. Instead, he squeezes in every possible beat and cliché into his 2-hour running time. Each trope is placed willy nilly. They certainly feel less predictable, strung together with no discernible rhyme or reason. They also never serve their generally accepted purpose of building tension.
Blazing Fists feels either like a long-form episodic program smashed into 2 hours, or like every sports film ever made, also smashed into 2 hours. Neither option makes the film any easier to watch.
