1974, Japan. Starring Sonny Chiba, Doris Nakajima, Makato Sato, Ryu Ikebe, Yasuaki Kurata. Directed by Teruo Ishii. Available on DVD (HKFlix).

Chiba Shinichi - Sonny Chiba if you're nasty. The name takes me back, way back, to a golden era of action cinema known as the 1970s. Indeed there was a lot about the 1970s that was about as enjoyable as plunging a fork into my eye in an effort to recreate this "plunging a fork into your eye" trick Penn and Teller do with a fork, a cupped hand, and a well-concealed little packet of half-and-half. Yes, up until the Ramones staggered onto a beer-soaked stage in New York's Lower East Side, the music was slightly more painful than whittling Zuni fetish dolls out of your own arm bones while they're still attached to your body. The fashion of the time possessed all the charm and appeal of chugging a six-pack of live hornets. The less said about the hairstyles, the better.

On the plus side though, besides the Ramones and The Clash, there were things like Oscar Gambles giant 'fro puffing out from the sides of his cap in his 1976 Topps baseball card picture, a distinct lack of Gap and Starbucks stores, and one of the greatest eras in the history of action films, if not the flat-out greatest. While all genres of film enjoyed an amazingly high degree of quality productions throughout the decade, action films in particular shined like they never had before and, quite possibly, never will again. The Shaw Brothers were cranking out an endless stream of kick-ass kungfu classics, and Bruce Lee was making history as one of the greatest bad-asses in the history of film. Pam Grier, Jim Kelly, Fred Williamson, and Rudy Ray Moore were leading the revolution in black action cinema. In the States, guys like Clint Eastwood and Charles Bronson were kicking ass in the name of righteousness, while over in Italy, cats like Maurizio Merli and Thomas Milian were sticking it to criminals with a level of grim violence never before seen on screen.

Perhaps it was the freewheeling spirit of the 1970s, or perhaps it was just the fact that so many studio executives were coked out of their heads, but movies enjoyed a degree of freedom unlike any they'd enjoyed before or after. This new freedom meant that screenwriters were allowed to indulge their every creative fancy regardless of how much previously taboo material it meant dragging onto the screen. After all, in light of the horrors of Vietnam and Cambodia, how could anyone be offended by a little make-believe sex and violence on the screen? The result of this lessening of ratings and censorship pressures was an unprecedented number of incredible films even in previously disrespectable genres like horror and action.

Part of the appeal of the films from this era comes from how much more believable they were. Sure, they took plenty of liberties with what was probable in life, but they were made with such a no-nonsense, grounded-in-reality approach that they seemed far more convincing than they would had they been filmed in the 1980s or 1990s, when special effects, greater restrictions on violence, and an infatuation with highly choreographed ballet-like action moved films more into the realm of cartoons. Where as the action of the 1980s and 1990s is often described as slick and highly stylized, epitomized by the slow-motion gunplay antics of John Woo films and the special-effects overload of stuff like The Matrix, the action and violence in the 1970s is most often described as gritty, brutal, and grueling. No one walked out of one of these films thinking that fighting and violence resulted in anything but tragedy and crunching bones.

Over in Japan, the man doing most of the placing of foot to ass was a guy named Chiba Shinichi, though he'd been born Sadao Maeda. He took the Chiba from the Chiba prefecture of Tokyo where he grew up after his test pilot father was transferred there during World War II. Early in his life, Shinichi developed an avid interest in the martial arts, training under legendary Japanese master Mas Oyama Koncho (whom he would later play in a biopic) and attaining black belts of various degrees in judo, ninjitsu, shorinji kempo, and kendo. It was stuff like this that would eventually turn him into one of the most believable bad-asses on film. There were plenty of guys who played the part well, but few made you believe it quite like Chiba.

In the late 1950s, the man who would be Sonny Chiba was well on his way to competing in the 1964 Olympic Games in Tokyo when a hip injury sustained on the job (he was a construction worker at the time) dashed any hope he had of Olympic glory. So in 1960, he entered and won a new talent contest at Toei Studios. Adopting the stage name Chiba Shinichi, the aspiring young star began his acting career - much to the disappointment of his father, who so disliked his son's chosen profession that he disowned the lad. Despite his new career, Chiba was in a state of depression in account of his father's reaction and the fact that he was barely making enough to pay rent, let alone lead a decent life. Luckily for the struggling young actor, veteran action star Takakura Ken befriended him and took him under his wing. Takakura Ken was one of the biggest action stars in Japan after appearing in countless yakuza films like Abashiri Prison.

Chiba began appearing in more and more films, usually yakuza or samurai dramas, until 1967 when some guy named Bruce Lee got a job on an American television show called Green Hornet. Bruce's role opened the floodgates and, in at least some way, was a major contributing factor to the birth of the kungfu and karate film. Until then, everyone had been happy making samurai, gangster, and swordsman films. Although there were karate and kungfu movies here and there, most were highly stylized and had more in common with stage plays than with actual fighting. What Lee brought to the table was basically the next step in the onscreen fighting developed by old-timers like Kwan Tak-hing and Kien Shih in the "Wong Fei-hung" films of the 1930s and 1940s. Kwan was the first guy to think about movie martial arts as something more than just swingy-arms and Peking Opera movements. It wasn't until Bruce Lee took the reigns decades later that what we know as the modern non-sword-oriented martial arts film was born.

One of the first films out of the gates starred a swordsman-movie superstar named Jimmy Wang Yu. His Chinese Boxer is generally looked at as the starting point for kungfu films as we know them today, and hot on the heels of that film came dozens upon dozens of others. Bruce Lee himself was, obviously, quick to get in on the game when in 1971 he starred in The Big Boss. Other kungfu film legends like Ti Lung, David Chiang, and Lo Lieh (another huge star from Hong Kong's swordsman films of the 1960s - he was a lot less ugly back then for some reason than he would be in the 1970s), also broke out around the same time.

In Japan, Chiba Shinichi had become known as Sonny Chiba, and his popularity was skyrocketing after he starred in several successful action and science fiction films and TV shows. Sensing that this whole ass-kicking trend might result in an increased demand for people willing to get their ass kicked for a living, Sonny founded the Japan Action Club, a school and representative association for would-be stuntmen, stuntwomen, and action stars. Throughout the ensuing decade, almost every highly regarded (and some not so highly regarded) action show involved members of the JAC, which included such future superstars as Sanada Hiroyuki (Royal Warriors, Ring, and about a million ninja movies) and Shiomi Etsuko (Sister Streetfighter, Streetfighter, Dragon Princess, Kikaider 01).

It was popular in Hong Kong to cast Japanese as the heavies in films, so it was only natural that eventually they would come calling at the door of Sonny Chiba. He was one of the few action stars anywhere besides Bruce Lee who had a legitimate background as a martial artist before he became an actor. Chiba, however, was swamped with work at home, so it was several years before he was able to answer the call and head to Hong Kong to film a movie alongside Nora Miao, who had worked with Bruce Lee on Fist of Fury and Way of the Dragon. Chiba was excited about the prospect of meeting Bruce Lee, whom he greatly respected, but more delays meant that Chiba arrived in Hong Kong only to find out that Lee had tragically passed away a few days before.

When Lee's Enter the Dragon opened in Japan, it was as huge a hit there as it was everywhere else. The previously held notion that these sort of fist-to-face kungfu films wouldn't fly in Japan was quickly tossed to the side, and in 1974 Sonny Chiba starred in what is more or less the first karate action film, The Streetfighter. It ushered in the era of karate exploitation, not to mention a level of violence and brutality that shocked everyone. The rest is pretty much history, as they say. Chiba became the number one action star in Japan, and his Japan Action Club became the premiere organization for stunt people and action stars. Even though the quality of his films suffered because of the increasingly cheap and rushed productions that plagued all Japanese films during that decade, his charisma and physical prowess kept him at the top of the heap. In many cases, it was much easier to be a fan of Sonny Chiba than it was to be a fan of any one of his films.

Hot on the heels of Streetfighter, Chiba starred in what, for my yen, is his best film, and one the best karate films of all time, The Executioner. Packed with the same censor-enraging buckets of gory violence that made The Streetfighter such a feel-good hit, but tempered also with a twisted sense of humor, The Executioner is a wild, action-filled ride through the seedy underbelly of Tokyo and still one of the best looks at just how good Sonny Chiba could be onscreen when he wasn't suffering at the hands of incompetent editors and cameramen (two problems that would severely mar many of his later films).

The Executioner opens with a guy instructing his sexy accomplice to recruit three street toughs for a job. The first is Koga, played by our man Sonny Chiba, one of the last descendents of the famed Koga ninja clan (for more on their history, check out our review of Enter the Ninja). We first meet him in a series of flashbacks featuring one of those insanely abusive martial arts grandfathers. Geez, you think soccer moms throwing rocks at ten-year-old children during games is bad, but that's nothing compared to martial arts in-laws. Gramps makes young Koga do things like jump over swords sticking out of the ground. When Koga clears the sword but gashes his leg in the process, his grandfather expresses his approval of the boy's vertical skills by screaming, "Weakling!" and slapping him around. If you have kids and want to get a rise out of their teachers at school, when you go in for the next parent-teacher meeting and the teacher says your kid is getting solid A's across the board, grab your kid, slap them around, and scream, "Weakling!" Then enjoy the good laugh you've all had as you're carted away by The Man.

When next we see Koga, he has grown into Sonny Chiba, and his grandpa is still kicking his ass and berating him for not being able to dislocate all his joints on demand. In a bit of realism, the grown Koga's response to all this is, "Man, screw grandpa." He goes out to get a real job, but ends up just getting his ass kicked by the old man again! Good thing no one ever calls Child Protection Services on these parents who teach valuable life lessons to their progenies by screaming, "Worthless piece of shit!" and trying to spear them while tossing lime powder in their eyes. We assume that eventually Koga gets good enough to best his hateful, bitter old load of a relative, or at least that the old guy died and left Koga free to go out and get a real job. Unfortunately, ninja skills are not in demand in this modern workplace, and when employers looked at Koga's resumes and saw job skills like "can spear old men with eyes shut" and "can stick to walls and ceilings," (two skills I have since added to my own resume, right next to proficiency with Adobe Photoshop) they determined that he was only fit to be a failed private eye or a vice-president of Microsoft. Since Microsoft wasn't really a major force at the time, Koga went with the failed private eye gig.

Next on the list of recruits is a grim ex-cop turned underworld hitman named Hayabusa, played by Makota Sato. Sato is disturbing in that he looks like someone took the face Henry Silva, mashed it up with the face of Jack Palance, and left it in a tanning salon bed for a few hours too long. When we meet Hayabusa, he's busy punching criminals in the head so hard that their eyeballs ooze out of their skulls, followed up by some hot lovin' with the nearest prostitute. The fact that he will slap a man's eyeballs out of his head then make love to the dead guy's mistress right there with the corpse still lying next to them doesn't mean he's a bad guy, though. He's noble in his own eye-popping, neck-snapping way. Noble or not, you can never go wrong having on your side the guy who can punch so hard it'll make eyeballs pop out.

Third on the list is a horny karate master named Sakura, whom Koga must first bust out jail so that the guy can sit around trying to double-cross the men and cop a feel on the ladies, or at least on Doris Nakajima. Of course, given how much of a bombshell Doris is, you can't really blame the guy. I mean, come on. He's been in prison for a long time, and he was horny to begin with.

Although they aren't so good at getting along, these three bad-asses are hired by Doris' boss to put the squeeze on a local drug lord, who's been using a crooked female diplomat as a transport for his cocaine. The drug lord, of course, has all sorts of fighters in his employ, so we're treated to a steady stream of Sonny Chiba kicking as much ass as has ever been kicked on screen. Sakurai, for being the resident karate bad-ass, des precious little ass-kicking but more than enough ass-grabbing. We're also treated to a steady stream of shockingly ugly naked Western women. I guess no one in Japan gives a rat's ass if the white chick is hot, but even so, you're better off hiring one who is anyway. You know, just in case. Not that I want to come down on the rights of ugly people to get naked, or to get naked on film. That's cool with me, but if I personally want to see ugly naked people on screen, I can just film myself cooking some tacos in the nude. I don't need to tune in to The Executioner to see some freaky man-woman in the buff and looking like a hybrid of Mia Farrow and Jake Busey. The diplomat woman also sheds her clothes, and I guess she's okay looking if you are into haggard 1970s coke addicts.

Misguided decisions about nudity aside, The Executioner is one bad-ass little film. Chiba wouldn't make one as good as this unless you count his co-starring role in Sister Streetfighter, but even that doesn't tarnish just how much fun this flick is. First of all, Chiba looks incredible. Later films would be hindered by choppy editing and shaky, handheld camerawork that ended up obscuring most of what Chiba was doing on the screen. The Executioner benefits from steady cinematography that knows when to simply sit still and let Sonny kick some ass. This is probably the best look at Sonny's on-screen karate prowess that audiences ever got, even better than Streetfighter.

Chiba's on-screen style freaked a lot of people out, and some were even offended by it. If you've never seen him in his prime, Sonny was fond of crouching like an animal and emitting long, wheezing breaths not unlike what you might here coming from the bathroom stall occupied by a guy trying to pass a floater the size of Lemmy from Motorhead. It's not pretty, nor are Sonny's movements, which were a deliberate move in the opposite direction of the fluid, highly choreographed looking kungfu from Hong Kong. Chiba's karate was rough and brutal, far closer to what you might see in a real fight than what was being seen in Hong Kong kungfu films. Well, it was far more realistic up until the point where he starts flinging people around like rag dolls and sticking to the ceiling.

Even though his less glamorous style annoyed some people who only wanted the martial arts to be portrayed as beautiful, or as beautiful as something can be that involves tearing out eyeballs and skewering people with your spear, his asthmatic exhalations became a trademark, not unlike Bruce Lee's equally bizarre yelps and shrieks. It's all about channeling your chi, or your Chiba. It's also about psyching out your opponent, and having Sonny Chiba crouching in the corner and hissing at you is certainly enough to psych out most people. And if that isn't enough, keep this in mind: when he moves from that position, he's going to be ripping off your testicles or yanking out your eyes or something similar.

The action choreography is quite good and perfectly compliments Chiba's wild style. Japanese karate films were never well-regarded for their choreography, which was often shoddy, poorly filmed, and just plain bad - even a lot of Sonny Chiba films. Here, however, we get a lot of nice long shots of Sonny in action, and it looks great. There's also plenty of slow-motion ass-kicking, which was quite popular back in the day. Now everyone kicks ass in fast motion aided by epileptic super-fast jump-cuts and under-cranking. I'd much rather watch Chiba send someone flying through the air in slow-motion, though.

The violence is incredibly brutal and personal. It's crushing bones and bloody knuckles, squishing eyeballs and shattering jaws. It's odd how the bodycounts in action films have increased twentyfold since the days of old, but the actual impact of the violence has become disturbingly sanitized and clean. For some reason, blowing up a hundred people is a PG-13 affair, but Sonny Chiba ripping off one guy's testicles gets an X rating. Violence today has become whitewashed - bigger, louder, and a lot less realistic. It doesn't engage the viewer, and as a result, it fails to remind you that the end result of violence is a whole lotta pain. You forget that in movies where people die with hardly any blood being spilled, where everything that happens is slick and video game-like in nature. You can't forget it when Sonny Chiba is standing over you pounding your skull with his fist.

On the writing and acting end of things, everything is competent. Everyone is either playing a broad caricature or they're just there to do some fighting and keep their trap shut. You can't go wrong with that set-up. The main cast is good, with a tendency to ham it up from time to time. The comedy is weird, but it helps lighten the mood and turn this into a faster-paced film than more somber productions like The Streetfighter. Long-time kungfu movie fans will recognize Yasuaki Kurata in the film's finale as a karate master employed by Hayabusa to help them take out the drug dealers once and for all. Unlike Chiba, Kurata was a huge part of the Hong Kong martial arts explosion, starring as the villain in dozens of kungfu films before finally getting to play a noble Japanese character in Liu Chia-liang's spectacular Shaolin Challenges Ninja.

Despite being a Japanese villain in almost every film, he became popular with Hong Kong audiences. In the 1990s, when Jet Li and Gordon Chan teamed up to remake Bruce Lee's classic Fist of Fury, they cast Yasuaki Kurata as the tough, noble, and sympathetic Japanese karate master. In much the same way, years after his star had faded somewhat, Sonny Chiba himself would have his career revitalized after starring in the Hong Kong fantasy film extravaganza The Storm Riders.

Kurata's performance here is short but sweet, and he showcases a spectacular style that illustrates why he would become such a sought after foil in kungfu films. He is a more fluid but no less powerful looking fighter than Sonny Chiba is. Not as scary, but more in tune with the pace of kungfu film fighting. Had Lee not died an untimely death, it's likely that Yasuaki Kurata, who was friends with Lee, would have appeared in Game of Death (at least as it was conceived by Bruce Lee), and between him and Nora Miao being mutual friends of both Lee and Chiba, it's likely that Bruce Lee and Sonny Chiba would have ended up working together as well.

Hayabusa and Sakurai both dole out a fair amount of beat-downs, but the real show in the action department is Chiba. The rest of the guys are just along for the ride, even though Hayabusa gets to be the one in charge, presumably because he resembles one of those folk art carvings made from a rotten potato.

The writing is about what you would expect. Some things, like Chiba's ability to stick to walls, the relative ease of the escape from prison, and the abusive ninja grandfather, tug the lines of believability, but within the context of the film, they're integrated well. The fact that this movie injects a dose of comedy into the proceedings helps in making it easier not to take everything so seriously. As far as low-budget action films go, this one makes the wise choice of playing it pretty down to earth and never attempting to live above its means. This is a violent, sometime silly action film, and it never aspires to be anything else.

Even though this movie is less known in the West than The Streetfighter, I feel it's the better film, and it's definitely the one to watch if you are new to Sonny Chiba and want to get a feel for what his films are about. It's fast, violent, and occasionally funny. Sonny fights like a madman, especially during the no-holds-barred finale where he chooses to don a fishnet, one-sleeve, ninja half-shirt that could have also been used as a costume for any Gloria Gaynor appearance. Flares and a tight fishnet half-shirt are not the clothes to wear if you want to inspire fear (at least of toughness) in your opponent, but I guess it's all some more of those ninja mind tricks.

The Executioner sports pretty much everything that made action exploitation great during the 1970s and everything that's sorely missing these days. There's tons of great fighting, loads of violence, gore, nudity (most of it unwelcome), lots of ugly villains (and some ugly "heroes" too), sleaze, and mayhem. Those who prefer things scrubbed and sanitized, or at least devoid of naked coke whores and eyeball gouging, will want to seek out alternate films like Mac and Me or Unidentified Flying Oddball. I don't think there were naked crack whores in either of those, though I distinctly remember wanting to gouge my own eyes out during both. For those of you with better taste and whoa re looking for a trashy, bloody, convoluted masterpiece of cheap action exploitation, well you folks can do much worse than popping the wonderfully gritty Executioner into the DVD player and allowing Sonny Chiba to take you back to a time when men were men, and they crushed each other's skulls with a single punch -- all in good fun, of course.

Labels: Country: Japan, Martial Arts: Karate, Stars: Sonny Chiba, Year: 1974