BEAST FIGHTER – Eureka Blu-Ray Review: A Double-Fisted Dose Of Karate-Crazy Sonny Chiba Cinema
9 min. read
The 90s were wild for me. Jackie Chan resurged in the Western mainstream years after The Protector and Battle Creek Brawl. He paved the way for stalwarts like Michelle Yeoh, Sammo Hung and Jet Li to follow suit, and the momentum took hold for the local video stores to make some of their Asian niche VHS rentals accessible to the public. That was when I finally got around to seeing Sonny Chiba for the first time in Shigehiro Ozawa’s The Street Fighter, albeit dubbed in English, but otherwise an enthralling entry into a new space for me with Showa-era martial arts entertainment.
Chiba’s commanding presence in that saga magnetized the aesthetic Toei went for as the Fukuoka-born actor and martial artist became a household name. The studio also prospered accordingly with the production of a trilogy of titles stemming from the work of mangaka duo Ikki Kajiwara and Jirō Tsunoda; Their 1971 Weekly Shōnen Magazine launch of “Karate Baka Ichidai” would serve as the basis for a perpetual screen iteration based on the life of trailblazing martial artist Mas Oyama, who was born in Korea under Japanese rule. Alas, Kazuhiko Yamaguchi’s Karate Bullfighter and Karate Bearfighter, and Karate For Life were born.
This review will only discuss the first two titles, however, as it pertains to Eureka Entertainment’s afforded packaging as Beast Fighter for its release back in June. I’m not sure why the third wasn’t included – as almost always the reason for these types of things may pertain to rights but I’m not certain here – but Eureka does deliver on what it most certainly guarantees when it comes to these releases. The fan service here mostly lives up to the expectations for folks keen on home media, with a version of the films and their original elements fully restored by Toei, presented in 1080p and host to the original Japanese mono audio, optional English subtitles, and with English mono audio just on the first disc.
Karate Bullfighter dives right into post-war Japan in Kyoto, and the muck and machismo of the world of Karate as the first tournament is held since the second world war. Trudging his way in as a last minute entry, the tattered and not-so-subtle Oyama leaves ample enough impression after conquering the tournament singlehandedly, before whisking away the efforts tournament’s disapproving Chairman, Nakasone (Mikio Narita) to court him more closely. Suffice it to say, Oyama’s unorthodox method hail nothing short of a challenge to business-as-usual, and a threat to the hierarchal order of things, a fact soon underscored by his appeal from young and eager karateka, Shogo (Jiro Yabuki), as is Oyama’s reputation when at one point word gets around that he’s dispatched a menacing bull with his bare hands.
Adding further complexity is the years-long unrequited romance Oyama shares with translator Chiyako (Yumi Takigawa). When Shogo goes rogue defending Oyama’s honor, it triggers a spell of violence that puts Oyama under the glaring eye of the law, and a widow and mother mourning her husband following his killing. It’s a twist of fate that forces Oyama to meditate take stock of what his hands can do, beleagured by the pain and destruction he’s capable of until his redemption is finally brought hand in hand with his resolve after another attempt on his life by Nakasone. The result is a full-on melee pitting Oyama against army of karatekas who want him dead no matter what, whether it takes ones’ empty hands, or filling them with a blade, or a gun to get the job done.
The epic battle ensues, enclosing the first of Toei’s three-chapter Oyama saga with Chiba’s titular protagonist exiled from the martial arts world. Thus, the story continues into the 1951-set Karate Bearfighter where Oyama is back at work, taking to task the deluded karatekas of Renshinkan Dojo, and its sensei, Ryudoji (Masashi Ishibashi). As the story in the film has it, Oyama’s career eventually takes a downturn into a life filled to the brim with sake as a drunkard in Ikebukuro, and sooner cleaned up and pulled back into the fray as bodyguard working for Kimura, an old Air Force comrade-cum-gangster with newfound aspirations of living like a king.
Oyama’s latest turn soon unravels more introspection after befriending a con man named Kozuru who’d been capitalizing off of Oyama’s name to hustle for a quick buck off the street, and a bittersweet reunion with Chiyako in the midst of a nightclub scuffle between himself and an American soldier. What follows is a further into an examination into his lost sense of self in the eyes of those who herald and idolize him and his legend, a test of growth further amplified by the presence of a wandering old man whose rod-fencing skills are a legend of their own.
At this juncture, Oyama takes a typically violent, abrupt exit from gangland life, one that couldn’t have come at a better time in the company of newfound friends Kozuru, his love interest, Sumiko, and Kozuru’s best friend, Ohashi. It also means plenty of more time to train and to take another pupil, while occasionally forced into tamping down ambushes by swarms of Renshinkan Dojo karatekas targeting him, scrimmages that soon arise murder and tragedy at the hands of Ryudoji. One vengeful turn takes another upon the film’s last leg when Oyama ventures to Hokkaido to bury two of his friends, in a series of events that find him tackling a bear to raise money for an ailing father and his wayward son before being challenged by Ryudoji’s brother for one last stand.
I’ve left out some bits and pieces in this summary, and that’s only because there’s a good deal of them covered in the special features. What I will say is that while storytelling tends to get a little off hand and leave plot holes here and there, it helps that most of these jumps probably don’t warrant much explaining apart from what the dialogue invokes. It’s also a plus that these stories are almost entirely inventive enough in their escapism to enjoy with a grain of salt, although it is entirely understandable why certain story aspects get the scrutiny they might, including typically antiquated moments of misogyny and rape that have otherwise fallen out of fashion in today’s creative spaces.
This is certainly one of the more notable highlights discussed in the first film’s audio commentary by Mike Leeder and Arne Venema who dive deeper into the trivia behind the film’s setting and era, the mood behind martial arts, and Oyama himself. I’m particularly fond of their reference to the Karate Bullfighter intro as the possible inspiration for the similar and familiarly iconic sun-lit beach front training scenes featured in the opening theme song of Tsui Hark’s Once Upon A Time In China with vocals by George Lam. There is also mention of Yang Yun-ho’s South Korean rendition of Oyama’s tale in Fighter In The Wind starring Yang Dong-geun in the Choi Bae-dal iteration of Oyama’s real-life identity. The two also get into the backgrounds and screen credits of the actors and how the gymnastics-apt Chiba was known for helping other actors and film professionals.
Moreover, there are nods to Kinji Fukusaku’s work, as well as that of the late Tony Scott re: 2005’s Domino on the subject of Oyama’s sensationalistic fervor and penchant for being “a marketing guy”. In addition, Leeder and Venema bring up Chiba’s focus on drama as a selling point as an actor playing a martial artist – something that definitely reflects in the films as there are layers of characterization to help carry the stories and their evolution from scene to scene.
There’s plenty more Leeder and Venema go into in the seperate commentaries on the discs for both films, including in the first film wherein they delve a little into how much of the particularly gory and lauded “bullfight” in question featured Chiba as opposed to not. The only other feature between both discs includes Jonathan Clements’s video essay, “In Search Of The Ultimate Truth: Sonny Chiba’s Kyokushin Karate Films” in which he summarizes and explores the origins and trajectories of the films with respect to what’s real and what’s fiction – from the pages of Oyama’s 1968 memoirs to the manga and subsequent animated tales and films – and the various elements that comprise them with Chiba carrying the cinematic torch for his mentor. The first disc also includes the vintage opening sequence to the first film’s English-language iteration, Champion Of Death, and a classic trailer for the film’s Toei release.
I once owned a copy of the Sister Street Fighter DVD bundle many years ago, which itself contributed to my education of Showa-era martial arts cinema, and effectively, my love for Etsuko Shihomi. Even seeing Chiba cameoing was exciting, and for what it’s worth, speaks inherently to the aforementioned testimonials about Chiba giving his colleagues a boost. I also got a kick out of seeing co-star Ishibashi, who is one of the more definitive fixtures in Toei’s talent pool as a cognizant martial arts screen villain for these kinds of films.
I still pine to complete my journey in Chiba’s celebrated screen career, and so getting to see these two renditions of a classic franchise was a treat to endulge. I hope that Eureka or someone out there finds in-roads to the third chapter in this trilogy, but there’s no question that Eureka’s Beast Fighter dishes out a double-fisted thrill for martial arts film fans. If you’ve never seen The Street Fighter films, the Sister Street Fighter films, The Executioner films or even Wolf Guy, and you’re new to the screen stylings of Chiba in all his glory, Eureka’s Beast Fighter is a fitting place to start. Like any journey though, it comes with its share of creative hits and misses which aren’t for everyone though, so when you buy it from the MVD Shop and pop it in your player, keep that mind open, and your chamber up!
Native New Yorker. Been writing for a long time now, and I enjoy what I do. Be nice to me!
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