With the imminent release of the Karate Kid remake, the time has come for me to temporarily leave my obscurities and grindhouse horrors behind to do the same thing I’m sure the rest of the Internet is doing – a Karate Kid retrospective. Where to start? The Karate Kid stands as a major member of the 1980s martial arts trend, the same trend that saw the rise of countless schlocky American Ninja movies as well as the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. And Gym Kata. Looking back on this phenomenon, whatever fondness most people hold for 80s martial arts culture is heavily influenced by a strong cheese factor. The Karate Kid is by no means immune to this glorious cheese, but it is not defined solely by that attribute. For when considered against its foolish kung fu companions, The Karate Kid comes across as possibly the most realistic, down-to-earth representation of martial arts in American cinema. Genuine realism and heartwarming drama are what give The Karate Kid its real heft as a cultural touchstone, not simply a convenient connection of a bygone trend.
The cause of these elements can be properly traced back to director John G. Avildsen, of Rocky fame. The Karate Kid is remarkably similar to Rocky, and can feel like an attempt on Avildsen’s part to replicate the success of his previous feel-good film. The stories are undoubtedly similar, concerning an underdog scrapper who undergoes rigorous training from an unconventional father figure to compete in a fighting tournament in order to win respect. Each film even features plentiful training montages, the greatest source of cheese for both series. The Karate Kid’s differences mark it out as more than a simple Rocky knock off, but give it a unique identity. For replace boxing with karate, and replace an over-the-hill palooka with a troubled teen from Jersey, and you have enough ingredients to fashion a distinct entertainment.
Our underdog here, as most children of the 80s know, is Daniel LaRusso, played by Ralph Macchio in the larval stages of becoming a teen idol. He and his mother have just made a car trek across the most photogenic portions of the United States, moving from Newark, New Jersey to Receda, California. (I love how cinematographer James Crabe gets his credit over the single most beautiful – though not iconic – shot in the film.) Upon reaching the junky South Seas apartment (that awful early 60s type of pseudo-Polynesian variety found throughout Southern California) Daniel starts up a quick friendship with Freddy Fernandez. This is a red herring, as Freddy barely figures into anything. Little known to Daniel at this point, apartment caretaker Mr. Miyagi (Noriyuki “Pat” Morita, earning a nomination for Best Supporting Actor) shall become Daniel’s central friend. For the time being, however, they tease us with Miyagi’s presence, leaving him an enigmatic, possibly inconsequential figure.
That night Daniel follows Freddy to a beach party, where Daniel intends to make further friends. Here he meets Ali Mills (Elisabeth Shue, already ridiculously superhot), and a budding romance develops. But along comes something that will be the bane of both Daniel and this movie – the Cobra Kai motorcycle gang, led by alarmingly preppie gang leader Johnny Lawrence (William Zabka). It’s clear why the Cobra Kai mean trouble for Daniel, for they quickly terrorize him in front of everyone, leaving Daniel with a black eye for his trouble. But why are they bad news for the movie? Well, so far everything has progressed at a relatively calm and realistic pace, typical of Avildsen’s competent but underwhelming direction. This gang, however, comes bearing 80s cheese, and their unprovoked violence towards Daniel doesn’t have nearly enough motivation to withstand scrutiny. At least, I’ve rarely known bullies quite as arbitrary as these guys – or really, like any Hollywood bullies, who mostly take after the Cobra Kai. Okay, there’s some justification – Ali is Johnny’s ex. But the fact is, we need Daniel to feel unhappy in his new environment, not simply because he’s the new kid, but because of bully trouble. It needs to happen fast, so let’s just go with it. Thankfully Daniel’s conflict with the Cobra Kai is not the central thread in this movie.
Daniel hides his black eye from his mother as he wends his way to school. The high school setting gets that traditional movie approach, where massive crowds of extras pour into the buildings as bells ring. To believe movies, high school is nothing but conversations between kids at their lockers in the picture-perfect hallways, broken up with occasional field sports. Classes are never seen, and education is never a major concern of most high school (or college) movies.
On the soccer field Daniel has another one-sided altercation with Johnny and his Cobra Kai toughs. Crapsack world that this is for Daniel, the coach only calls him out on this, as rich kid Johnny gets off Scott free. You know, all this early stuff with the Cobra Kai really is the lowest emotional ebb of the picture, happening much earlier than the traditional end of Act Two. As this is a coming of age tale, and ultimately concerns Daniel’s slow, steady triumphs, this is an appropriate technique, and it makes the movie increasingly enjoyable as it goes on.
At home, Daniel practices karate kicks out of a book, hoping to better oppose the Cobra Kai. Mr. Miyagi watches on silently as he repairs the kitchen sink, his aid delayed. And since books and scant lessons at the YMCA have already proven ineffective against Johnny, Daniel seeks help at the local karate dojo. Further exacerbating his life, this dojo is infested with Cobras, the hyper-violent minions of Sensei John Kreese (Martin Kove, in a part Chuck Norris reportedly turned down). If you think the Cobra Kai are goonish, tonally awkward thugs, that goes double for Kreese. He teaches a philosophy of merciless violence, effectively turning his students into his own private prepubescent army – an army whose only purpose, apparently, is to repeatedly assault Daniel and no one else. This is bullying at its stupidest and most ridiculous. We learn nothing more of Kreese as a character except for the various Special Forces memorabilia he keeps throughout the dojo.
The Kais follow Daniel home, using this opportunity to bash his head against a rock – this is some unnecessary villainy they practice. At home Daniel throws a tantrum. His mom is now aware of his problems, and tries to explain how fighting is not the answer, but Daniel will hear none of it.
Later on, Mr. Miyagi has repaired Daniel’s bike (it got broken), the act needed to break the ice on their friendship. They bond over bonsai tree cultivation in the caretaker’s shed, slowly forming a tenuous rapport. This is where it become necessary to discuss Morita’s iconic performance as Mr. Miyagi. Racial insensitivity remains a perpetual problem, and, prior to The Karate Kid, it was assumed most Asian Americans simply couldn’t command a movie. Morita, for his part, was best known at this stage for his role as Arnold on “Happy Days.” Oh yeah, the poor old man’s career up to this point had consisted mostly of playing awful Japanese stereotypes and being the butt of jokes. Naturally, the popularity of The Karate Kid changed that for Morita, but it’s interesting how, even over the course of the film, his performance functions to slowly break the stereotypes while espousing Japanese culture. Miyagi’s dialogue is all delivered in broken English, employing Yoda diction (perhaps a cheesy caveat to Star Wars), leading the audience to assume the worst initially. The deeper facets of Miyagi’s personality slowly reveal themselves throughout the film, through little hints and facial gestures rather than through dialogue. The best moments shall appear later, but for now the acting alone between Morita and Macchio suggests the father-figure mentorship to come.
The movie as a whole follows the choppy patterns of life rather than the streamlined contours of a movie – for the most part. Scenes of Daniel at home, at the school and elsewhere follow each other with little connective tissue, apart from the emotional story. Yup, it’s a drama. That’s their modus operandi, which is often why I find dramas the hardest to enjoy on a surface level. Also, in a case like this one, it indicates a greater passage of time – before we know it, it’s already Halloween. This always seems odd to me, since it still feels like the first week of school.
No matter. Miyagi is making jack-o-lanterns for the apartment building. He devises Daniel a costume for the big Halloween dance – Daniel goes as a shower, intent upon remaining hidden from the omnipresent Cobra Kai. Daniel develops his romance with Ali. Here I must stop again to comment on the Daniel/Ali relationship. Now, most movies see fit to squeeze in a pointless romantic subplot simply to broaden the film’s appeal to another demographic, doing the movie no real favors. On the surface, Ali’s character appears to be the same sort of annoying plot device as the women in the Fast and the Furious films. But because The Karate Kid is a drama first and foremost, concerning Daniel’s emotional development, his scenes with Ali serve a real purpose, and work to show how Daniel’s upcoming training with Miyagi pays off in the real world. As pointless movie romances go, this is a good one…Though it’s still pretty pointless.
Soon enough Daniel has once again enraged Johnny and his goons – he soaked Johnny with a restroom hose (!), so this time their anger is abnormally justifiable. And here comes the major turning point, when Mr. Miyagi intervenes in their trademarked Cobra Kai beat down upon Daniel. Quicker than anyone can scrutinize, Miyagi has roundly thrashed all the Kai hoods and carried Daniel back to safety.
And now the movie’s central concern really appears: the father/son relationship between Miyagi and Daniel. Miyagi teaches Daniel (and us) about karate, that it is not about fighting, nor revenge, and that bad students such as the Cobras only come about from a bad teacher...“Fighting is always last answer to problem.”
“Mercy is for the weak,” Sensei Kreese shrieks at his assembled henchmen. Miyagi and Daniel attend this session to observe Kreese’s latest neo-Nazi dojo dogma, creating his Karate Kid KKK. Here Miyagi stalls the foolish Cobra Kai plot antics, convincing Kreese to agree to a temporary truce in anticipation for the All Valley Karate Tournament two months away. Johnny’s thugs shall leave Daniel alone while he trains with Miyagi – the outcome between Daniel and Johnny at this tournament shall settle whether future beatings are necessary. Kreese agrees to this for whatever reason (the plot dictates it), but it’s just as well, for the movie is far better off trading the Cobra Kai for Mr. Miyagi.
Now things really kick into gear, as Miyagi takes Daniel to his lovely Japanese home by the train tracks. Nearly everyone knows the specifics of Miyagi’s training regimen, for they have been neatly ingrained in the cultural consciousness. Miyagi has “Daniel-san” perform seemingly pointless household chores – waxing the cars, sanding the boards, painting the fence and house. This is where “wax on, wax off” comes from, and I’ve inadvertently said many questionable things in my day trying to quote that. This is also the pop cultural origin of catching a fly with chopsticks, played here for realism rather than camp like in so many chop socky Hong Kong flicks. These scenes of Daniel performing Miyagi’s “chores” make up the meat of the movie, far more than my treatment here suggests, which works cinematically because we are all drawn to Miyagi as a character. Create a well-written role, and watching a kid do housework can be fun!
The chore scenes are broken up with scenes of Daniel dating Ali, taking her to the local Golf ‘n’ Stuff fun park. And here we cue the first cheesy 80s music montage – quite a surprise to those expecting it would first occur during karate training. I’ve already said my peace about Ali’s function in this movie, so I’ll simply point out the class consciousness that comes to the fore somewhat in these scenes. Like in Rocky, Avildsen paints the poor LaRussos with a light brush, playing Daniel’s mother’s car trouble for light laughter, a successful use of comic relief as a counter to the main plot.
Finally Daniel grows tired of chores, fearing he isn’t learning karate. Then Mr. Miyagi reveals Daniel has in fact unwittingly picked up the central karate poses anyway. They practice sparring, Daniel amazed at what he knows.
The next sequence of training scenes is more directed, and equally iconic. Miyagi teaches Daniel balance, having him kick in the ocean as waves push him away. A similar balance exercise involves Daniel posed on the bow of a rowboat – leading to a funny joke where Daniel bows on the bow – Miyagi loves a good pun. Most iconically, Miyagi practices his special Crane Technique upon a beach stump. This later leads to Daniel performing the same stump stunt, iconography upped yet again by the setting sun.
Around this point Miyagi has a run in with a pair of drunken, racist redneck stereotypes. He resolves this conflict using karate, but without using violence. As Samuel L. Jackson would say in that one Wayans brother movie, “Message!”
Okay, let’s break that up with a little more of the Ali romance. The relationship hits a slight snag, mostly to provide conflict and increase running time. How? Daniel is convinced Ali is still seeing Johnny. This keeps Johnny active in the story, despite Kreese’s proclamation he can no longer assault Daniel. Eventually Daniel and Ali come to a resolution just in time for the tournament. I have little else to say about this, so let’s get back to Miyagi...
In the movie’s best scenes, we learn some more of Miyagi’s past. Daniel finds Miyagi at home, getting rip-roarin’ drunk on sake while clad in a WWII era U.S. Army uniform. This is the moment I’d referred to earlier, where good acting and subtle hints serve more than scripted dialogue to paint Miyagi’s past: He served in the war and earned a Purple Heart against the Germans, while his pregnant wife and child died during birth in a Japanese internment camp. Most of this is not stated directly, allowing older audience members to find depth at their convenience without boring the younger viewer target demographic. This is good movie making, and Daniel’s rapport with Miyagi here is genuinely warm.
One upbeat training montage later, we get the other central scene between Daniel and Miyagi. It is Daniel’s birthday, which he celebrates alone with Miyagi – this is how close they’ve become. Miyagi honors Daniel with the gift of a kimono made by his long-deceased wife. Daniel’s second gift is his choice of the freshly-waxed cars in Miyagi’s possession – Daniel having just gotten his driver’s license. There is another quiet, drawn-out bonding moment between Daniel and Miyagi, the sort of genuine moment which cannot be explained here. For me, this is truly the climax of the film, with the tournament stuff to follow simply a matter of plot bookkeeping.
And here comes that tournament now. Miyagi signs Daniel in as a black belt, largely a clever ruse. With Ali present as Miyagi’s “translator,” they take to the central arena to learn this is to be a refereed, point-scored karate tournament – something Miyagi admits is as new to him as it is to Daniel. All of Miyagi’s karate knowhow, you see, was passed down through family, a cultural tradition rather than a sports game. Daniel faces off against his first opponent, and after some early jitters he is able to instinctually employ Miyagi’s teachings to move up through the tournament ranks. This final section of the film is where the vast majority of the karate action takes place, and it’s a good way to send the film off, as karate is what we’re all here for. The choreography is quite realistic and underwhelming, to be expected from teenaged Caucasians.
So how do we communicate Daniel’s quick ascension through the karate ranks? Through montage, of course, as is increasingly becoming this movie’s habit. “You’re the Best,” that sublimely iconic and cheesetastic tune, serves as The Karate Kid’s equivalent to Rocky III’s “Eye of the Tiger” – ironic and iconic, since this song was originally written for that movie. Eh, six of one, eh? So we see Daniel’s rapidly develop Karate Kompetence, contrasted with the flashier and dirtier tactics used by the petty Cobra Kai competitors. And since the film’s emotional heavy lifting is good and over, we are free to enjoy the silly eightiesness of this moment for all it’s worth.
Semifinals: Johnny handily defeats his opponent, a different guy named Danny. The audience is quite loud in their adulation of Johnny, that cheating preppie bastard. Then it’s Daniel against Cobra Kai stooge Bobby Brown. Kreese, the spineless bimbo, convinces Bobby to take Daniel “out of competition,” even if it means his own disqualification. So Bobby goes right ahead and pretty much breaks Daniel’s leg – okay, it’s not that bad. But the fact is Johnny shall take home the big trophy now by caveat, unless Daniel can recover in 15 minutes.
In the locker rooms, Daniel’s scattered associates depart, leaving only Mr. Miyagi. Miyagi undoubtedly possesses the knowhow to mend Daniel’s leg, but he is hesitant to let Daniel fight again, feeling he has proven what he came here to prove. Daniel makes an impassioned speech, explaining that his wish to fight Johnny is not based on violence or revenge, but a simple matter of bringing balance to his life. Convinced Daniel has the proper motive, Miyagi heals Daniel well enough to fight. Still, Daniel’s injury is serious enough to afford some suspense for the climax.
Daniel faces off against Johnny, as their fights grow increasingly lengthy and involved, a nice progression of Karate Koolness. Daniel easily wins the first two point of this first-to-three match. Johnny holds a timeout with Kreese, who advocates unethical but apparently legal methods to hurt Daniel’s injured leg. Even though the refs allow this tactic for whatever reason, I cannot imagine it ingratiates the Cobra Kai karate school particularly to the arena audience – in fact, their boos confirm my suspicion. And just when it seems Johnny will take the match...Daniel wins using the revered Crane Technique! It is common in martial arts films to win the final fight with a special, rarely-mastered Special Move, and The Karate Kid is easily one of the least insane examples of this trope. The crowd cheers Daniel’s victory, and Johnny is a surprisingly good loser as he presents Daniel with the trophy. And to emphasize what’s really important here, we end with a freeze frame of Mr. Miyagi.
The Karate Kid was not only incredibly successful with both audiences and critics in 1984, but is has stood the test of time to become one of the landmark movies of the 80s. This was something of a surprise to people at the time, just as Rocky’s sudden success was a surprise to people nearly ten years earlier. Yet it is easy to understand The Karate Kid’s success, since it skillfully employs the Rocky formula, by those people who best understood the Rocky formula. The difference here, beyond trading boxing for karate, is to aim the film to a teenage audience. Hence The Karate Kid becomes a great family movie, accessible to all viewers without condescension. This family film factor also afforded the franchise its longevity, providing a decent counter-programming to other franchises. The Karate Kid is one of those movies, as self-contained as it is, that provides such an audience-pleasing experience that sequels could follow it for years, hoping to capitalize on that experience.
Related posts:
• No. 2 The Karate Kid, Part II (1986)
• No. 3 The Karate Kid, Part III (1989)
• No. 4 The Next Karate Kid (1994)
• No. 5 The Karate Kid (2010)
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