Ip Man vs. The Street Fighter
Winner: Ip Man
You’d be hard-pressed to find two performers more different than Sonny Chiba and Donnie Yen. Chiba broke out as the snarling wild man of 1974’s The Street Fighter while Yen is now best known for embodying the unflappable grandmaster in Ip Man. Both performed in the shadow of Bruce Lee. Chiba’s trilogy springboarded off the late star’s trend-starting martial arts hits, while Yen’s series focuses on deifying Lee’s Wing Chun teacher. But Yen’s melodramatic mythologizing has the edge over Chiba’s ridiculously violent (and ridiculously cheap) grindhouse films. No amount of eyeballs knocked out of heads, ripped-out vocal cords, or x-rays of shattered skulls (which inspired Mortal Kombat‘s fatalities) can quite measure up to glossy fights choreographed (and sometimes performed) by Sammo Hung. Both series have something cartoonish about them, either on their surface, like in the increasingly indecipherable Street Fighter plots, or on their edges, like in Ip Man‘s nationalist screeds. But Ip Man gets the edge here, since the over-the-top plots are balanced by filmmaker Wilson Yip’s slick, prestige-sheened battles royale. [Jacob Oller]
Lost Bullet vs. Police Story
Winner: Police Story
As the premier franchise for car carnage, Fast & Furious, has become a bloated, neverending mess, France has quietly been pumping out a series with tactile, small-scale vehicular madness. The Lost Bullet films may be tucked away on Netflix, but they contain some of the best stuntwork of the 21st century. Written and directed by Guillaume Pierret, the Lost Bullet trilogy follows down-and-dirty cop Lino (Alban Lenoir) as he’s framed for murder and must clear his name, his cars becoming Frankensteined behemoths as the series chugs along. Whatever Lost Bullet lacks in originality, it more than makes up for in burnt-rubber madness. So, it’s a little unfair that the Little French Car Franchise That Could is going up against Jackie Chan’s finest series. From that face-melting fall through the glass chandelier in the mall at the end of Police Story to the motorcycle chase that announced Michelle Yeoh as an action star in Supercop: Police Story 3, the series is simply Jackie Chan at his best. Without Police Story, Jackie Chan’s ascension as the greatest action star of his generation may never have happened. A foot chase after a speeding bus, which turns into hanging off of said bus for dear life, is the stuff of action dreams. After a perfect first three entries and a solid fourth, the series fell prey to the grim, ultra-serious nationalism that’s plagued Chinese cinema for the last few decades. The finale, Police Story: Lockdown, might be a swing and a miss, but this is as near-perfect a cop franchise as you’ll ever find. [Brandon Streussnig]
James Bond vs. Kickboxer
Winner: James Bond
Two long-running series about globetrotting, adventuring, sardonic do-gooders whose effectiveness relies on the power of their rotating central performer and the audience’s acceptance of the campy, inconsequential plots, the Kickboxer franchise and the James Bond films are unlikely reflections on opposite sides of the budgetary spectrum. Both express the action-movie dream of total masculine individualism—an ability to single-handedly save the day, through either suave secret agent feats of daring or blunt-instrument physical prowess. Kickboxer, though, succumbs to the deeply diminishing returns that 007 has always escaped at the last minute; as soon as the Cannon franchise lost Jean-Claude Van Damme (which was almost immediately, though he returned in the recent reboot films), Kickboxer lost its goofy charisma. Even at their most ridiculous, Bond films still find a higher level of charming fantasy to tap into, whether in their action setpieces, over-the-top sex, or clotheshorse style. [Jacob Oller]
The Roundup vs. Rambo
Winner: The Roundup
What we’ve got here are some thick-cut beefsteaks. Sylvester Stallone and Ma Dong-seok are massive forces of nature, fleshy cannonballs shot into bad guys in their respective franchises. But despite seeming like an underdog (in terms of name recognition, at least), the Korean cop series is infinitely more enjoyable than the bloody carnage scattered by John Rambo. First Blood is a killer B-movie, smarter and more emotional than the majority of its peers; everything after is lucky if it has an exciting set piece or two to offset its mumbly, meatheaded warmongering. And yet, those in search of good-natured mumbly meatheadedness need look no further than the films of Lieutenant Ma Seok-do a.k.a. The Beast Cop. Ma hams it up in the role, acting like he can barely fit through doorways, wielding his outsized mass (which Stallone has always made grotesque) with a chummy confidence. Rambo is a haunted, hollow-eyed murder machine. Ma has bad dates, tired knees, and lousy subordinates—but when he hits someone, it’s still like a plunger popping a pinball across the board. The grungy humanity of The Roundup‘s police stories makes them so much more palatable than the racist fantasias that Rambo devolves into, without sacrificing the compelling chases and fights that keep the pulse racing. [Jacob Oller]
Jason Bourne vs. Lethal Weapon
Winner: Lethal Weapon
The Bourne films are less about the workmanlike first entry from Doug Liman or the Matt-Damon-less Legacy, care of Andor creator Tony Gilroy. Instead, the legacy of Jason Bourne will be writ nauseatingly in the stars by Paul Greengrass, who convinced Liman’s cinematographer, Oliver Wood, to abandon all tripods and transform the rogue supersoldier’s globe-trotting antics into barely legible, handheld smears of close-quarters scuffling and digital detritus. As far as visceral action filmmaking goes, the exhilaration of Greengrass’ shaky-cam style belies the series’ standard spycraft. But Greengrass is no Richard Donner, the steadiest of Hollywood hands, and the ice-cold Bourne films are rarely as delightful as Donner’s four Lethal Weapons. In retrospect, it’s both a small miracle and potential war crime that Donner could help codify Mel Gibson as a likable leading man, but paired with Danny Glover at his warmest, Martin Riggs (Gibson) is actually wildly unlikable, a deeply traumatized ’80s action hero flailing between pre-24 neoliberal brutality and post-Peckinpah slo-mo surreality. Riggs needs Murtaugh (Glover); add Joe Pesci—a manifestation of Riggs’ homophobic panic, a small squeaky man who values cleanliness and manners and intimate male friendship—and the franchise is a big violent hug, an essential template for every buddy-cop blowout since. [Dom Sinacola]
Undisputed vs. The Matrix
Winner: The Matrix
We all know The Matrix. It’s silly to run through the merits of a film with Yuen Woo-ping choreography that revolutionized the industry. It is, however, prudent to mention that its greatness doesn’t begin and end with the first film. From the mindbending Burly Brawl in Reloaded to the rain-soaked finale of Revolutions, The Wachowski sisters’ magnum opus was always more than “Bullet Time.” Aesthetically and thematically, no other action series has changed the landscape of blockbuster filmmaking like The Matrix. But make no mistake, the Undisputed films are also heavyweights. Walter Hill’s first entry, Undisputed, featured a clash of boxing titans: Ving Rhames’ “Iceman” Chambers against Wesley Snipes’ “Undisputed” Hutchen. A prison picture through and through, the redemption tale was a solid one-off. But it’s in the confines of direct-to-video where the series shines, introducing the world to perennially undersung action legend Scott Adkins. With the sequel, Last Man Standing, recasting Michael Jai White as Chambers, the series became entirely martial arts-focused. After Adkins exploded in popularity as that film’s villain, Boyka, he took over as the star. The follow-up films (Redemption and Boyka) are showcases for Adkins, and he more than lives up to the responsibility. Redemption‘s fight against Marko Zaror remains Adkins’ finest outing. The Matrix is the genre-defining icon, but don’t count Undisputed out. [Brandon Streussnig]
Mission: Impossible vs. Resident Evil
Winner: Mission: Impossible
These are two franchises that quickly became gratuitous love letters to their stars, one fully defined by its vulgar auteur and the other whose genre-topping stunts were filtered through a procession of directors. Despite Milla Jovovich capably leading the longest-running female-fronted action franchise, very few people can compete with Tom Cruise trying to kill himself in front of a popcorn-munching audience. Paul W.S. Anderson’s silly B movies get blown out of the water by M:I‘s AAA heaters, though it’s not like they don’t share some of the same pulpy DNA. Convoluted plots, skeptical yet interconnected with modernity and technology, devoted to superhuman feats performed by actors pleased to be ogled by the camera and audience alike. And yet, though the video game adaptations (loose as they are) play with the strange maps and boss battles and replayability of their sister medium, Mission: Impossible is the franchise that truly taps into the bewildering, laugh-gasp-evoking, death-defying cool that unexpected, power-fantasy moments in gaming can grant. When Ethan Hunt and his merry band of besties roar through city streets or hang by their fingernails off of rocketships (if that hasn’t happened yet, it will soon enough), one is invigorated by the carnival-barker spirit of Evel Knievel—capturing a life-affirming danger in a way no zombies ever could. [Jacob Oller]
Once Upon A Time In China vs. Bad Boys
Winner: Once Upon A Time In China
“This is not necessary!” Det. Marcus Burnett (Martin Lawrence) shrieks in the middle of Bad Boys II. He’s in the passenger seat of the Cadillac he and partner Det. Mike Lowrey (Will Smith) stole from Dan Marino, in the midst of a high-speed chase requiring Mike to swerve around corpses spilling from the back of the van they’re pursuing. An enduring belief behind Michael Bay’s auteurism is an acceptance that all cops are psychopaths because the world is psychopathic. So for Marcus and Mike, meaningless reigns, bystanders’ lives are fodder, and urban America is a slaughterhouse. Fun stuff, but no match for the picturesque fight scenes and silly-ass, carnivalesque set pieces throughout the six Once Upon A Time In China films. In the hands of Hong Kong legend Tsui Hark, who directed four of the six, the story of folk hero Wong Fei-hung (Jet Li) becomes a myth crafted from action tropes. Dazzling umbrella battles, lion dance competitions, and lines of golden bodies training in unison on sand-swept shores limn the Once Upon A Time In China films with grandeur. The Bad Boys films are equally festooned, but with carnage. Tsui’s films celebrate the human form; Bay’s films eviscerate it. In this head-to-head, Bad Boys has too many bad vibes. [Dom Sinacola]
Fast & Furious vs. Riddick
Winner: Fast & Furious
With a name like “Vin Diesel,” you’re pretty much guaranteed to be either an action hero or some kind of mechanic-themed porn star. But as endearing as nerd-mode Diesel is in his sci-fi Riddick films (and they’re really his, since he traded his appearance in Tokyo Drift for the rights to the character), he’s best utilized as a high-gravity central character that a solar system of supporters can orbit around. The Dungeons & Dragons dork is simply better with a party. Though Pitch Black is a slick, beautiful little Alien riff—a mode the franchise would return to in the tight third film—The Chronicles Of Riddick expanded out of control like a DM going from helming a one-off to a goofy, full-blown space opera. That’s not necessarily always a bad thing; the Fast & Furious only got better by doing so. But it got nutty over time, adding absurdity to its himbo soap opera and Hot Wheels car chases over the course of several films as it found its ridiculous voice. And, of course, it doesn’t entirely rely on the questionable charisma of Diesel, since it’s got his friends family. [Jacob Oller]
Universal Soldier vs. The Terminator
Winner: The Terminator
Unstoppable killing machines making a mockery of humanity, the endless and painful cycle of war: This is where the six-entry Universal Soldier and The Terminator franchises find common ground. Their quality, though, follows opposite trajectories. James Cameron’s first two sci-fi gamechangers are unassailable—and much more will be said about them later in this competition—while the trashy Universal Soldier movies didn’t find their groove until all but the most devoted DTV sickos had long abandoned the series. By the time John Hyams got his hands on the films nearly 20 years after Roland Emmerich’s doofy original, the undead supersolider franchise was in a spot where creative tonal risks were very much encouraged. His harrowing yet meaty fifth and sixth entries, Regeneration and Day Of Reckoning, both worth seeking out, even sound like they might be Terminator films. Hyams’ brawling forever-killers develop a great deal of human suffering as they age, which is a far cry from the god-awful middle entries that, for a few films, rely on the MST3K charms of ex-Philadelphia Eagles linebacker Matt Battaglia. Those low lows are just part of why the Soldiers fall here, though. They could still be making bad Terminator movies, and T2 alone would probably be enough to make up for them all. [Jacob Oller]
SPL vs. Predator
Winner: Predator
The SPL (or Sha Po Lang) films, born in Hong Kong and eventually becoming co-Thai productions featuring Tony Jaa, are thematically linked action films bonded by women in danger, concerned dads, overly complicated cop plots, and terminal health conditions. The Predator films are thematically linked action films bonded by sick-ass Predators. This is not a fair fight. For every excellent moment of bone-breaking that emerges from the narrative bog of the SPL trilogy, there are hours of Infernal Affairs-lite melodrama to wade through. The Predator films, on the other blade-gauntleted hand, march audiences through jungles of high highs and low lows that maintain a consistent threat. While the post-Predator films dropped off in quality after John McTiernan’s gorgeous aliens vs. action figures jungle slasher, Dan Trachtenberg has brought an exciting scrappiness back to this high-tech franchise with Prey and this year’s Predator: Killer Of Killers. Despite hitting a nadir with Aliens Vs Predator: Requiem, the Yautja have remained cinematic icons for a reason: They’re mysterious enough to be flexible as antagonists and antiheroes, iconic enough in design and arsenal (cloaking device, thermal vision, shoulder-mounted blasters, etc.) to have survived crossover showdowns and disastrous reboots intact. The SPL movies conjure up a shared mood punctuated by moments of adrenaline, but there’s nothing as memorable as a spine-hoisting Predator. [Jacob Oller]
John Wick vs. The Transporter
Winner: John Wick
A comeback for an action star squares off against the arrival of another. John Wick started small: Once destined for DTV, the Keanu Reeves-led revenge thriller was a back-to-basics action programmer that looked great and moved even better. It served as a strong calling card for stuntman-turned-director Chad Stahelski—who knew it would spawn the finest martial arts/gunplay franchise the West has ever produced? As Wick’s epic saga of vengeance ballooned, so did his cast of villains. Its all-star team of action stars added everyone from Mark Dacascos to Scott Adkins to Marko Zaror to Donnie Yen. As the rogues gallery expanded, so did the stunts, culminating in the wildest stair fall you’ll ever see on film (performed by the great stuntman Vincent Bouillon). Similarly small-scale and gritty, the first Transporter was another simple tale of vengeance as a fixer sought to clear his name. Announcing Jason Statham to the world as a mean, bald bastard of few words, directors Corey Yuen and Louis Letterier combined for a low-key action classic. By utilizing the Hong Kong model of one guy directing the talky scenes, another directing the fights, The Transporter showed Hollywood a new way of making action and, in turn, provided some of the most stylish, brute-force fights of the aughts. Although the sequels (including an Ed Skrein-led reboot and a TV series nobody saw) were diminished goods, the impact the first had can’t be denied. It may not touch Keanu’s thirst for bullet-ridden revenge, but its scrappy heart gave us an enduring modern action icon. [Brandon Streussnig]
A Better Tomorrow vs. Kung Fu Panda
Winner: A Better Tomorrow
In terms of kids movies operating as gateways to the larger worlds of their genres, the Kung Fu Panda franchise is about as good a starting point as it gets for martial arts movies. With high regard for the classics, a well-stocked voice cast, a charming pair of inter-species dads, and some of DreamWorks’ smoothest animation, the silly “Skadoosh” series is better than it has any right to be. But there’s no need to stop at the gateway when the riches beyond that threshold are readily available. The heroic bloodshed spilled by John Woo and Chow Yun-fat in their career-making action-crime trilogy isn’t just sublime, it was transformative to an entire genre. The rowdy, masculine-not-macho operatics of Woo’s shoot-outs and the dudes rock that precede them wield automatic weapons and emotions akimbo. A Better Tomorrow and its two sequels started this movement, with Chow’s endless charisma powering Hong Kong action away from honorable hand-to-hand combat and towards loyal gangsters with endless squibs. That its violence is just as cartoonish as the fights in Kung Fu Panda is all part of the fun. [Jacob Oller]
Bloodsport vs. Mad Max
Winner: Mad Max
The movie that gave audiences Jean-Claude Van Damme in all his sweaty, eventually bare-assed glory, Bloodsport is as good as fight tournament movies get. As Frank Dux, JCVD’s doe-eyed descent into violence is a sight to behold, and by his final fight (against the great Bolo Yeung), it’s impossible not to leap off the couch and scream in triumph with him. None of the sequels, DTV vehicles for Daniel Bernhardt, match the original, but Bernhardt is a hell of a fighter and just as striking and handsome as his predecessor. You won’t have a bad time falling down the Kumite rabbit hole. Unfortunately for those svelte, shiny men, we have to give it up for something even sleeker and shinier: Chrome. George Miller’s opus started small. Mad Max is a relatively quiet and somber film. As with many series on this bracket, it’s a tale of revenge: Mel Gibson’s cop, Max Rockatansky, loses his mind with bloodlust after his family is attacked by savage outlaws. By part two, The Road Warrior, Miller’s vision of the future was in full view: sadistic car gangs clashing over guzzolene in the wasteland that used to be Australia. The series hit its mythic apex with Oscar darling Fury Road. An equally gonzo, but more contemplative spin-off following Fury Road‘s Furiosa (aptly titled Furiosa) continued to expand the world of Mad Max into an epic Greek tragedy. In his 80s, one might think Miller would be finally slowing down, but as long as that lunatic lives and breathes, there will always be V8 rumblings of another film. [Brandon Streussnig]
Readers Poll
Did Jean-Claude Van Damme deserve better? Did we do the wrong Diesel? Should ol’ Rambo be given another chance? Here is your opportunity to set the record straight, by participating in the readers poll and maybe swinging this separate version of the action franchise bracket in a totally different direction. Vote for the winners in all 16 match-ups below. Check back tomorrow for the results of the poll, along with a new set of fistfights to vote on.
