And so, the gears of the great grindhouse revival grind on. We’ve seen all manner of trash cinema subgenres given the neo-retro treatment in recent years: zombies and car chase flicks, in the Tarantino/Rodriguez double bill that started it all; blaxploitation, in Michael Jai White’s Black Dynamite; and leather-clad post-apocalyptic action in Neil Marshall’s Doomsday (assuming we count that one as part of the new grindhouse, which I kinda think we should) – and that’s just to name a few of the bigger and better ones. It was inevitable that kung fu would come into the mix at some point.
At a glance, RZA’s directorial debut would seem to owe a sizeable debt to Kill Bill. It’s certainly been sold heavily on this association, with the prominent ‘Quentin Tarantino Presents’ credit, and the presence of the former O-Ren Ishii, Lucy Liu. However, where Tarantino’s two volume film borrowed liberally from a wide variety of B-movie staples of which kung fu was but one, The Man With The Iron Fists has its sights set squarely on evoking the spirit of the blood-spattered Oriental beat-’em-up flicks which flooded America’s drive-ins and grindhouses, rattled the cages of Britain’s censors – never forget, Shogun Assassin was ‘banned since 1983!’ – and of course inspired the music of RZA’s Wu Tang Clan. While I’m a very long way from being an expert on their music (way too white, square and guitar-oriented I’m afraid), I do vividly recall the track on which they discuss increasingly hideous methods of torture, and have often pondered whether or not that might have fuelled the imaginations of those who would go on to pioneer this past decade’s wave of ordeal horror. In a sense, then, things may have come full circle on The Man With The Iron Fists, as Eli Roth co-writes with RZA.
As for the tale that RZA and Roth present us with here… well, it’s a busy one and no mistake, what with rival clans feuding, a shipment of gold passing through, and all manner of oddball characters popping up here and there, among them a big dude whose body can magically turn to brass, a plummy English adventurer with a hearty appetite for the ladies sporting a unique knife/gun hybrid, and an enigmatic African-American blacksmith. Some might bemoan the narrative for being overloaded, and only serving to delay the inevitable whirlwind of fists and blood, but to my mind it works. With the exception of Byron Mann’s irrefutably evil Silver Lion, for the most part there are arguably no clearly defined goodies and baddies here. Those who at first seem maniacal and sadistic have moments of humanity and compassion, whilst the more ostensibly honourable may boast mean streaks a mile wide. It may be that I’m particularly receptive to this sort of thing as I’ve been watching Game of Thrones a lot recently, but I like the lack of clear-cut representations of good and evil: these are all just people playing their angles, pursuing their goals from their own perspectives, and whatever side of the moral compass they fall on is largely in the eye of the beholder.
It helps that RZA has brought together a strong and compelling cast, most of whom appear to be having a whale of a time. As the womanising, gut-slashing, outrageously over-the-top Jack Knife, Russell Crowe hasn’t been this much fun to watch in years; his monologue in which he introduces himself to the patrons of the brothel could give serious competition to Gladiator’s “my name is Maxiumus Decimus Meridius” for memorability and quotability (in more selective circles, at least). Equally entertaining and excessive is the aforementioned Byron Mann as the wild-haired, mean-spirited Silver Lion. At the less melodramatic end of the scale, Dave Bautista is a pleasant surprise; we don’t expect such understatement from wrestlers-turned-actors, and of course his physical stature and expertise make him a formidable presence. Lucy Liu also gives a strong turn as the steely madam, though I was a little surprised how minor a presence she is in the film, given she’s one of the biggest stars. By comparison, Rick Yune’s vengeful warrior comes off a little thin, and Jamie Chung doesn’t get a great deal to do as RZA’s love interest, though they’re both doing their best with the least interesting characters in the piece. And then of course there’s RZA himself. He’s certainly not bad as the titular iron-fisted blacksmith, but there’s a definite sense that he might be just a wee bit out of his depth here as the ostensible lead. Even so, he certainly doesn’t shame himself, dramatically or physically.
Nor do his duties as actor seem to have detracted much from his directing. Some reviews have lambasted the disjointed, untidy feel of The Man With The Iron Fists, but if we once again consider the film as a tribute to the early wave of video nasty martial arts movies, this messiness is entirely appropriate. It is through this slightly awkward editing that the spirit of the era is evoked, with those now-clichéd superimposed scratches and other such grindhouse-isms notable by their absence (yes, this is a good thing). The willfully over-complicated plot is often conveyed via RZA’s droll narration, vast swathes of exposition hastily summed up in a manner that gives the sense this could almost be an Eastern film (or films plural) heavily re-edited for the Western market, as of course was often the case in the ol’ days. Of course, the abundance of CGI and wire work inevitably detracts from that early VHS mood somewhat, but there are certainly worse offenders out there in the digital gore stakes, and the overall quality of the action more than compensates. Some might also accuse the hip-hop heavy soundtrack as undermining the old-school sensibility, but it’s hardly a surprise given the director’s history, and its very incongruity is part of the appeal, not unlike the synth score of Shogun Assassin.
I’m a little sad to see how badly The Man With The Iron Fists has fared critically and commercially thus far, but as we all know, today’s flop is often tomorrow’s cult classic. It certainly doesn’t break new ground, but it radiates enthusiasm for its genre, with more than enough style to make for an agreeable evening’s entertainment; and while it might not set the world on fire, it may very well get you shadow-boxing in front of the TV.
The Man With The Iron Fists is released to Region 2 DVD and Blu-Ray on 1st April, from Universal.