11 Blocks
Posted: Mon Sep 12, 2016 10:25 pm
Synopsis:
There's an ancient zen koan which states, "What would an action movie look like with no real action?"
Review:
Pictured: better than every fight scene in this movie put together.
I assume the title was a mistake. Someone must have been relaying the total budget for this movie and meant to say, "eleven bucks." Fucking god, what a horrible everything. It stars no one you've ever heard of (stuntmen trying to act), the characters have almost zero depth, there are needless nonlinear cuts, and the fight choreography, just dear god, it makes the old Batman TV show look convincing.
Anyhow, in the near future some city is a dystopian shithole. A dude has to make it eleven blocks through gang-controlled territory with a bag full of cash to pay off the hired gun holding his sister hostage. These gangs are like the ones from The Warriors in that they all have themed, matching costumes. However, unlike the gangs from that aforementioned flick and every gang every formed in the known universe, the thugs in this town seem to have a code of honour that makes bushido look like kicking someone in the balls with their back turned. I say this only because they seemingly fight others exclusively in a one-on-one fashion. This isn't a flaw in the choreography, quite the contrary, it's played up during one particularly extended sequence where there have to be thirty to forty combatants versus the protagonist. They show him visibly getting exhausted as he goes through one carbon copy toady after another quicker than you used to take out imps in DOOM. Lest you still think this is in error, the gang members also politely stand around waiting for him to get back up after they score a rare hit. They will do this even when armed. They will do this even when their opponent executes needlessly complex moves that take a short commercial break to finish. I'm betting they're all missing calcium from their diet because their bones break with a force that most gerbils could muster.
In between awful martial arts play-fighting, you also get tired black and white flashbacks to the protagonist's upbringing, none of which make sense, even after you string them all together in the correct order. They involve his abusive, alcoholic karate master father who looks like Rob Halford, sounds like Ed Norton, and acts like the Joker. Example: one trip to the past lets us relive the memory of the hero's 18th birthday during which his dad rabbit punched him into unconsciousness, then encased his son's feet in cement blocks in the hopes it would encourage him to punch his way out. That's one of the more coherent flashbacks.
Verdict:
The action is worse than the Power Rangers. Worse than Lou Ferrigno's interpretation of Hercules. Worse than DOA: Dead or Alive. Worse than Tekken the movie. Worse than tequila-fueled backyard wrestling on an old trampoline filmed on an iPhone.
There's an ancient zen koan which states, "What would an action movie look like with no real action?"
Review:
Pictured: better than every fight scene in this movie put together.
I assume the title was a mistake. Someone must have been relaying the total budget for this movie and meant to say, "eleven bucks." Fucking god, what a horrible everything. It stars no one you've ever heard of (stuntmen trying to act), the characters have almost zero depth, there are needless nonlinear cuts, and the fight choreography, just dear god, it makes the old Batman TV show look convincing.
Anyhow, in the near future some city is a dystopian shithole. A dude has to make it eleven blocks through gang-controlled territory with a bag full of cash to pay off the hired gun holding his sister hostage. These gangs are like the ones from The Warriors in that they all have themed, matching costumes. However, unlike the gangs from that aforementioned flick and every gang every formed in the known universe, the thugs in this town seem to have a code of honour that makes bushido look like kicking someone in the balls with their back turned. I say this only because they seemingly fight others exclusively in a one-on-one fashion. This isn't a flaw in the choreography, quite the contrary, it's played up during one particularly extended sequence where there have to be thirty to forty combatants versus the protagonist. They show him visibly getting exhausted as he goes through one carbon copy toady after another quicker than you used to take out imps in DOOM. Lest you still think this is in error, the gang members also politely stand around waiting for him to get back up after they score a rare hit. They will do this even when armed. They will do this even when their opponent executes needlessly complex moves that take a short commercial break to finish. I'm betting they're all missing calcium from their diet because their bones break with a force that most gerbils could muster.
In between awful martial arts play-fighting, you also get tired black and white flashbacks to the protagonist's upbringing, none of which make sense, even after you string them all together in the correct order. They involve his abusive, alcoholic karate master father who looks like Rob Halford, sounds like Ed Norton, and acts like the Joker. Example: one trip to the past lets us relive the memory of the hero's 18th birthday during which his dad rabbit punched him into unconsciousness, then encased his son's feet in cement blocks in the hopes it would encourage him to punch his way out. That's one of the more coherent flashbacks.
Verdict:
The action is worse than the Power Rangers. Worse than Lou Ferrigno's interpretation of Hercules. Worse than DOA: Dead or Alive. Worse than Tekken the movie. Worse than tequila-fueled backyard wrestling on an old trampoline filmed on an iPhone.