by David F Walker | May 8, 2026 | News & Updates
Kinji Fukasaku’s career spanned five decades and spawned over sixty films, including Graveyard of Honor, Battle Royale, and the classic Battles Without Honor series. He is regarded as one of Japan’s greatest directors, and if his work were better known outside of his native country, he would easily be considered one of the greatest directors in the world. Best known for his yakuza films, Fukasaku reinvented the Japanese gangster genre with a series of gritty films in the 1970s. Before he turned the genre upside-down, Fukasaku had made slightly more conventional genre films like Wolves, Pigs, & Men and Japan’s Organized Crime Boss. But in 1970 the director began production on Sympathy for the Underdog which would prove to be the transition between the traditional chivalrous yakuza films of the past, and the morally corrupt anti-heroes that were to come in films like Street Mobster.
Originally meant to be a follow up to his earlier Japan’s Organized Crime Boss, Fukasaku reunited with lead actor Koji Tsuruta for a film with many similarities to their earlier collaboration, but with a unique style all its own. Tsuruta stars as Gunji, a yakuza gang leader released from prison after ten years. Gunji finds that his gang has long since broken up, while his key cronies have attempted to make it in the legitimate world by slinging noodles and raising families. Gunji and his men reform the old gang, but with all the territories in mainland Japan overrun by different yakuza families, they decide to make of go of it in Okinawa. They quickly build a reputation on the island, but soon find that the same deadly battles and rivalries that plague the yakuza on the mainland are also found on Okinawa.
In making Sympathy for the Underdog Fukasaku was heavily influenced by Gillo Pontecorvo’s seminal Battle of Algiers, a film that dealt with resistance in the face of occupation. Fukasaku himself was addressing the influence of American influence in Japanese culture, as Okinawa was the site of lingering military occupation by the United States. But even more than the influence of Battle of Algiers, Sympathy for the Underdog draws much inspiration from Sam Peckinpah’s The Wild Bunch. Tsuruta is clearly cast in the William Holden role, while his gang is very much like the aging outlaws struggling to keep pace with a world that has left them behind. There are even two pivotal scenes straight out of Peckinpah’s classic, including a bloody showdown between Gunji and his men and a small army of yakuza that have come to take over their territory.
Although its not my personal favorite film by Fukasaku, Sympathy for the Underdog is still a classic. And when watched in context with his other films, it shows a clear defining point when a master filmmaker made a serious transition in tone, content and theme, changing with him the face of modern cinema.
by David F Walker | May 8, 2026 | News & Updates
Jackie Chan’s first attempts to make a name for himself with American audiences in the early 1980s were less than spectacular. He starred in The Big Brawl, both of the Cannonball Run movies, and The Protector, none of which conveyed the charisma and talent that had established him as a star in Asia with such films as Drunken Master and Snake in Eagle Shadow. About the only thing those early American films did for Chan was introduce him to a dedicated fan base who sought out his Hong Kong films, and were then able to gloat knowingly about him when he finally made a huge splash in America with Rumble in the Bronx. The success of Rumble in the Bronx made Chan a viable draw with audiences in the United States, and in an effort to make a buck, many of his films were re-packaged for release in America. Between 1995 and 2000, some of Chan’s best Hong Kong films were released in the United States, often under different names, and frequently edited from their original version, as was the case with Police Story 3, a 1992 film released in America as Supercop in 1996.
Easily the most popular of Jackie Chan’s different films series, Police Story spawned four sequels and one spin-off. Supercop, the third film in the series, finds Chan returning as Inspector Chan, a Hong Kong detective with a knack for finding himself in deadly situations that often require him to perform daredevil acts of the most extreme insanity. This time around, Chan is recruited to work undercover and help mainland Chinese forces bust up an international drug empire. Chan teams up with Inspector Yang (Michelle Yeoh a.k.a. Michelle Khan), his equally adept female counterpart within INTERPOL. When Chan helps gang leader Panther (Wah Yuen) break out of prison, he gets in good with the criminal, who is the sinister henchman of the even more nefarious Chaibat (Ken Tsang). With Yang pretending to be his sister, Chan fights alongside Panther and the rest of the gang, earning their trust, until his cover is blown, leading to a dramatic showdown on the streets Malaysia.
Most people would agree that when it comes to Jackie Chan films, story and character take something of a backseat to the fights and the action sequences. If the story is at best easy to follow, or at least only mildly confusing, then that’s all you need as long as Chan delivers what he’s best known for, which is an incredible mix of comedy and action, and the outrageous stunts he performs, often at great danger to his wellbeing. Although the fight sequences are not as memorable as some of his other films, the stunt work is still more than impressive in Supercop. There is an incredible sequence with Chan dangling from the ladder of a helicopter as it flies through the sky, which leads to a fight sequence on top of a moving train. And not to be outdone, Yeoh also has some impressive moves as she hangs from the side of a truck racing through traffic, and jumps a motorcycle on top of the same moving train where Chan is fighting. The dynamic duo also has some noteworthy fights throughout the film, but the most memorable part of Supercop is the extended chase in the third act.
Although it’s not his absolute best film, Supercop does rank among Chan’s better movies, and it is certainly bolstered by Yeoh, who carries her own. The story gets silly and ridiculous, but that’s not exactly uncommon with Chan’s films, and fans of his work know exactly what they’re getting into with this movie.
by David F Walker | May 8, 2026 | News & Updates
French critic-turned-filmmaker Christophe Gans’s 2001 film Brotherhood of the Wolf was a cinematic wet dream for fanboys–a moving picture pastiche of genre films with a childlike love for all things cool. In much the same way Sergio Leone’s A Fistful of Dollars and Ang Lee’s Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon captured both directors love for the genre films they grew up watching, Brotherhood of the Wolf is Gans’s loving tribute to the spaghetti westerns, kung fu flicks and horror movies that inspired him in his youth.
Set in 1765, Brotherhood of the Wolf combines fact and fiction to create a pre-French Revolution political thriller fused with a horror mystery–that may or may not have supernatural overtones–all wrapped up in an action-packed, romantic kung fu revenge film. The film uses the real-life tale of the Beast of Gevaudan, a mysterious creature responsible for attacking more than 100 people, as the focal point. For King Louis XV, the Beast was a source of embarrassment, and a symbol that he was incapable of effectively ruling or protecting his subjects. That much of the film is true, but reality gives way to fantastic adventure and political intrigue as Gans introduces Gregoire de Fronsac (Samuel Le Bihan), a naturalist dispatched by King Louis to capture and kill the creature. Having seen his fair share of action during a campaign in New France (Canada), Fronsac is more a man of intellect than of outright action. Fransac likes to leave the asskicking to Mani (Mark Dacascos), his Iroquois blood brother and Kato to Le Bihan’s Green Hornet.
When Fronsac and Mani arrive in Gevaudan, they find a group of men terrorizing a woman and an older man. Mani dispatches the men in a martial arts-like battle that sets the tone for the rest of Brotherhood of the Wolf. This is clearly not a standard period-piece costume drama. Within the first few minutes of the film, Gans manages to work in references to Planet of the Apes, Jaws, Sergio Corbucci’s spaghetti western classic Django, and the films of Bruce Lee. And as the film progress, the references don’t stop, with Brotherhood paying loving respect to everything from the martial arts epics of Shaw Brothers Studios to the British horror movies of Hammer Films.
The local villagers, and the soldiers dispatched by the king, believe that the Beast is a wolf, but Fronsac is convinced otherwise. He suspects there is more going on than meets the eye, and he soon becomes caught up in a web of political deceit. Complicating matters is his love for the beautiful Marianne de Morangias (Emilie Dequenne), the sister of Jean-Francois de Morangias (Vincent Cassel), who holds a dark secret connected to the Beast. When Fronsac and Mani fail to capture the Beast, the king dispatches Beauterne (Johan Leysen) with orders to simply capture a wolf, and have Fronsac pass it off as the actual Beast. But when the killings continue, Fronsac and Mani return to Gevaudan to deal with the deadly killer once and for all.
Working with an international cast and crew (including fight coordinator Philip Kwok and editor David Wu, both John Woo collaborators), Gans has crafted an action film that transcends genres and nationalities. The end result is a tale of universal heroism that is, if nothing else, a cool movie. Some people had trouble wrapping their brains around Gans’s everything-and-the-kitchen-sink approach to making Brotherhood of the Wolf, while others found it to be a fun bit of escapist entertainment. Brotherhood of the Wolf is not, by any stretch of the imagination, a cinematic masterpiece on par with something like Citizen Kane, but it is very, VERY entertaining. The action sequences are worth the price of admission, the Beast is awesome, and Dacascos, a total badass, steals ever scene he’s in. Le Bihan and Cassel are pretty cool as well, and co-star Monica Bellucci certainly makes things easy on the eyes.
When all is said and done, the movie feels like it was made by a child who had run amok in some sort of cinematic toy store of his dreams. Gans is determined to create the ultimate genre hybrid–a film unencumbered by borders (or at times, logic) Think about it: This is a film that features a Hawaiian actor playing a Native American who uses martial arts in 18th-century France while hunting a creature that may be a werewolf. But somehow, whether through sheer determination or simple love of genre films, Gans succeeds in crafting a film that is captivating, drawing the audience in and reminding you of what it was like to be a kid watching a movie that is just plain cool.
by David F Walker | May 8, 2026 | News & Updates
by David F Walker | May 8, 2026 | News & Updates
This is the first original comic strip that I ever wrote and drew. Up until this point I had either started comics and given up before finishing, or I copied what I saw in the newspaper (some of which I’ll be posting). But this right here is a joke that I came up with on my own, and drew (without any tracing). I was eleven years-old at the time, and very proud of myself. To this day, I remember the great feeling I had after finally completing something I started. As a creative, few things can compare to the feeling you get when you finish whatever it is you’ve started.
by David F Walker | May 8, 2026 | News & Updates
ABAR: THE FIRST BLACK SUPERMAN – 1977 (a.k.a. In Your Face) director: Frank Packard; starring: J. Walter Smith, Tobar Mayo
Of the over 200 movies that comprise the genre and the era of blaxploitation, there are quite a few made by filmmakers and actors who only turned out one or two films, before disappearing into total obscurity. Actors like Winston Thrash and Loye Hawkins, as well as directors like Renee Martinez and Bill Brame are all but forgotten. The sad thing is that most of the films turned out by these people, which include such craptacular garbage as THE GUY FROM HARLEM and MISS MELODY JONES, don’t really warrant being remembered or even seen for that matter (trust me—I’ve seen most of ‘em). But every now and then one manages to shine through, and despite its rather questionable artistic merits or quality, keeps from being total shit. Such is the case with ABAR: THE FIRST BLACK SUPERMAN.
You may think that SPAWN and BLADE were the first films to feature a super-powered black man whoopin’ ass, or that METEOR MAN was cinema’s first black superhero, and you know what? You’re wrong! The first black cinematic superhero, as the film’s title indicates, is none other than John Abar (Tobar Mayo).
When black research scientist Dr. Ken Kincade (the long lost brother of gym teacher Chet Kincade?) moves his family to an all white neighborhood, the local honkys get their underwear all in a bunch. With a rabid mob of kill-crazy whiteys picketing on their front lawn, throwing garbage, and disemboweling their cat, the Kincades seem to be in dire circumstances. But all them honky muthas best look out, ‘cause ridin’ to the Kincade’s rescue, on a bunch of motorcycles, is the Black Front of Unity (BFU).
The leader of the BFU is Abar, a super badass who has pledged his life to protect the black community. Before long, Abar is hired to protect the family full time; unfortunately he ain’t able to do shit when some honky sumbitch kills the Kincade’s young son, Tommy. Now, it seems that Doc Kincade (Smith) has been working on a serum that can make a man indestructible, just like the bullet-proof rabbits that he keeps in his basement laboratory. It takes a little persuading, but when the evil crackers take a few shots at Abar, he’s more than willing to swig the doctor’s serum like a bottle of Thunderbird, thus turning him into a bullet-proof ghetto avenger. But not only is Abar now indestructible, he also has incredible psychic abilities, as well as divine powers that will allow him to battle racism. All of that from drinking a tiny vial of a liquid that looks like urine.
No, dear readers, I’m not making any of this up—what you just read is really the plot. ABAR, THE FIRST BLACK SUPERMAN is one of the more freaky flicks I’ve ever sat through (which is saying a lot). This is the sort of film that leaves you in wide-eyed wonder saying, “Wow.”
The film gets especially crazy after Abar takes Dr. Kincade’s serum, and goes on what can only be described as a super powered holy mission to destroy racism. Seriously. It’s so crazy—not to mention poorly executed—that it becomes a treat just to watch for its sheer insanity and ineptitude. You find yourself wondering how this movie got made. And even more unbelievable is the fact that you’re watching it.
Despite its freaky nature and an absurd premise, ABAR is a fun film, not to mention very political. This little gem offers up a great concept, with some profound and provocative dialog that at times borders on brilliance. What’s really deep is the notion that it takes a black man with increased mental and physical strength, to battle the evil ways of whitey. Of course the profound nature of the story, and the smatterings of choice dialog are all marred by some of the worst (and I do mean worst) acting you will ever see. And let’s not forget inept directing, lighting, editing, story structure, soundtrack, and every other technical and aesthetic element you can think of. This is a film where pretty much everything that can be done poorly is done poorly, making ABAR a series of great and interesting ideas, drowning in a vast ocean of cinematic ineptitude.
But all the vast hindrances that would destroy any other crappy film simply can’t keep this movie down. There is just a bit too much goodness, buried deep beneath all the junk, for this film to actually suck. There are even a few moments that make my jigaboo heart swell with pride, like when the BFU first ride up on their motorcycles, chase off the evil whiteys, and place an African flag on the Kincade’s front lawn. I cried like a baby. And I love the dream sequence when Kincade’s son dreams the family is back in the old west facing down a group of white vigilantes. Black cowboy Deadwood Dick (Abar, as the real life gunslinger Nat “Deadwood Dick” Love) rides to the rescue, and blasts the vile honky vermin away; declaring, “My friends call me Deadwood Dick; but my enemies call me Smart Black Nigger.”
From what I can tell, nearly every person involved with this movie was never involved with another film—which should clue you in as to the quality of work involved. Neither director Frank Packard nor screenwriter James Smalley appears to have ever made another film. In fact, Tobar Mayo seems to be the only person with any sort of career either before or after ABAR. Mayo, who looks like the love child of Ji-Tu Cumbuka and Doug E. Fresh, and who may or may not be related to Whitman Mayo (Grady on SANFORD & SON), also appeared in Charles Barnett’s brilliant KILLER OF SHEEP, the crappy BIG TIME, as well as a handful of television shows, including THE JEFFERSONS and MANNIX. He was also in PANAMA RED, directed by Bob Chinn, who is best known for his work in porno, and as creator of the Johnny Wadd series starring John Holmes. Mayo is also listed in the credits of ESCAPE FROM NEW YORK, and even though I’ve seen that film a hundred times, it seems I keep blinking whenever my main man is on the screen. Although he’s not the best actor in the world, Mayo is Shakespearean in comparison to the other cast members of ABAR, who really stink up the screen in a way that is both appalling and endearing, making this film a special kind of classic.
*this review of ABAR: THE FIRST BLACK SUPERMAN appears in my book, BadAzz MoFo 25th Anniversary Compendium and Toilet Reader…which you can purchase as a PDF from my store.
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