Street Fighter: The Legend of Chun-Li

When viewed as separate entertainments, video games and movies both offer unique pleasures and engaging experiences. But when combined to create the dreaded "video game movie," the result is an unwieldy mess hampered by stupidity and a complete lack of imagination. Many video games have been given the lowest common denominator big-screen treatment (classic games such as Super Mario Bros. and Double Dragon were both transformed into live-action atrocities), but few video game movies have been more mentally challenged and pathetically executed than the 1994 disaster adaptation of Street Fighter.

That movie holds the pitiful (though arguably intriguing) distinction of being not only one of the worst video game movies ever, but also one of the worst Jean-Claude Van Damme movies ever. Everything about the production was so cheap and shoddy that its only entertaining quality was its ability to incite laughter. Considering how bad that movie was, it was only a matter of time until someone would dust the material off and take another stab at making Street Fighter fans proud. Now, fifteen years since the last effort, Street Fighter: The Legend of Chun-Li limps into theatres and proves to be just as hilariously awful as its predecessor.

Taking over the role of Chun-Li from Ming-Na is Smallville star Kristen Kreuk, who happens to have as much big screen presence as a wet rag. Kreuk knows how to stare off into empty space with a dumbfounded look and she manages to keep a straight face while stuck in the middle of goofy fight sequences, but her line deliveries and attempts at displaying emotion are pitifully underdeveloped. The story of Street Fighter: The Legend of Chun-Li requires Kreuk's character to go from rich and privileged to penniless on the streets of Bangkok to tough, physics-defying action heroine. Amazingly, Kreuk manages to make each transformation more ridiculous and unbelievable than the last.

The script by Justin Marks actually uses only eight characters from the Street Fighter series of games, which is considerably less ambitious than the fifteen characters employed for the 1994 movie. But while both movies feature different approaches to the character-stuffed material, they both use the same villain to stir up trouble. Whereas the late Raul Julia played the character in the first movie, it is now Neal McDonough's turn to play Bison, a villain so dastardly that his entrances are often accompanied by ominous gusts of wind or angry animal growling sounds. McDonough is no stranger to scenery-chewing silliness (he has previously played laughable villains in the 2004 remake of Walking Tall and last year's 88 Minutes) and he certainly makes no attempts to bring something new to this role. Bison is another bad guy with a bad plan just waiting to get his neck snapped by a martial arts expert.

There are other characters in this Street Fighter adventure (such as greasy cop Charlie Nash and mysterious, seemingly invincible mentor Gen), but the narrative is focused mainly on Chun-Li. A huge amount of screen time is dedicated to Kreuk and the movie suffers because of it. That is not to say that the movie would be any better had it paid additional attention to the other characters, since every actor seems to be off in their own little world anyway. But Kreuk is so awkwardly unconvincing in every scene that I ended up feeling sorry for her as an actor rather than cheering for her character.

While Kreuk is especially terrible throughout the movie, the blame for this unintentionally funny fiasco deserves to be spread around for all involved in the production. Marks's script is an insult to paint-by-numbers screenwriting and director Andrzej Bartkowiak seems more interested in treating his audience like clueless idiots than in telling a story with a modicum of sensibility. His visual style is so stale and uninspired that the movie's action sequences feel like a parody of the genre. These sequences are good for a laugh, but they do little to get the adrenaline pumping.

It is unlikely that any movie-goer will be too surprised by the incessant inanity of Street Fighter: The Legend of Chun-Li. Expecting anything less than ridiculous nonsense from a video game movie is utterly pointless by now. But at the very least, there is a somewhat perverse pleasure in watching this train wreck unfold in all its hackneyed glory. For whatever reason, video games and movies are two flavours that do not mix. The amalgamation of these two forms of entertainment gives birth to a grotesque beast that has to be experienced to be understood. This is filmmaking in its most warped and confused state, aimlessly wandering through tired territory in search of a purpose.