Rowdy but routine, BLOODFIST IV was part of a five-picture deal between Roger Corman's fertile Concorde Pictures and kickboxing star Don "The Dragon" Wilson. None of the last three BLOODFIST titles have had anything to do with each other apart from Wilson's involvement, and DIE TRYING goes
through the motions as a kung-fu conspiracy thriller.
Wilson and his feet of fury portray Danny Holt, a repo man who gets the plot rolling by seizing the wrong BMW. (For some obscure reason the license plates have been switched.) While Danny's out to lunch evidoers raid the impound lot and massacre the whole staff in their desperate search for an
innocent-looking box of chocolates left in the auto--the candy contains several Easter-bunniesful of nuclear detonators. The authorities naturally suspect Danny of being the psycho killer of his workmates and hunt him relentlessly. So do the evil weapons-smugglers, savvy FBI agents and CIA spooks
who had originated the whole deal to funnel nukes into the Mideast.
The plot sustains attention through sheer momentum, with Danny's varied pursuers constantly outmaneuvering each other to get at the repo-man-who-knew-too-much. Wilson's self-choreographed martial-arts battles are lively but often absurd, even in context. BLOODFIST IV is one of those flicks that
takes place in some alternate karate universe where every other person on the street has a black belt--even a pudgy Jackie Mason-lookalike who tangles with Wilson at the beginning--and each confrontation blooms into the action equivalent of a Broadway musical number, full of chopsocky mayhem and
pseudo-oriental background muzak. One farfetched faceoff even occurs in a room filled with tear gas, where Wilson and his opponent are unable to breathe, but nevertheless can strip to the waist and kickbox like crazy.
Still, a climactic showdown with leather-clad villainess Cat Sassoon is disappointing; after being pummelled to a pulp, Danny rallies and demolishes the dojo dominatrix with some piddly pokes. Much blood spills to establish the deadliness of the heavies, but they degrade to low-level Disney
dastards when they kidnap Danny's ever-so-cute daughter Molly (Heather Lauren Olson), tie her up, blow smoke in her face, and tease that her daddy doesn't love her anymore. The filmmakers seem to be on some crusade against tobacco, as the nicotine habit is shared by all Danny's antagonists. Love
interest Amanda Wyss, in comparison, is a reformed smoker.
Another subtext attacks the much-abused LAPD, depicted here as malicious morons commanded by an overweight lady chief (Liz Torres) who gets fast food delivered to her at murder sites. And this isn't the hero's first brush with LA's finest; his wife was killed by a blue knight driving drunk, and
the force covered it up and pinned the rap on Danny. In movies these days bright policemen are as rare as intelligent kung-fu scripts. Despite an overuse of slow-motion, director Paul Ziller keeps the narrative animated enough to render BLOODFIST IV: DIE TRYING passable for diehard action addicts.
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