3 Ninjas, No. 4 - 3 Ninjas: High Noon at Mega Mountain (1998)

Why does this movie exist? Does it exist? Sure it does, watching it proves that, as much as the subconscious wishes it to believe otherwise. But the “why” remains eternally mysterious, for 3 Ninjas Knuckle Up’s anemic $500,000 gross should’ve sent this franchise to an early grave…I mean, an earlier grave than 3 Ninjas: High Noon at Mega Mountain surely dug for it. But it did even worse! Made a mere $375,805! Any B.O. where you list the precise dollar amount is pretty bad. (Still, it’s no Zzyzx Road - $30.)

Perhaps Shin Sang-ok, director of Knuckle Up and producer of Mega Mountain, still sought atonement through this abortive franchise – I don’t know which victimized the poor man more, Kim Jong-il or 3 Ninjas.


It’s doubtful returning star Victor Wong (the esteemed Grandpa) had much riding on Mega Mountain – Poor Wong was clearly in his autumn years, as his bedraggled appearance attests. And he’s barely in this mess, mostly relegated to the opening few minutes – which makes them the best few minutes. Even his latest test for the titular trio, some kind of video game warehouse crazy Saw obstacle course, has a certain moronic charm about it – though I cannot figure out just how this thing exists in Grandpa’s vacant forest. But beyond this one mere scene, Grandpa is limited to reciting the few fortune cookies that passed by writer/director Sean McNamara (now solely allowed to direct episodes of things like “That’s So Raven”). So clearly Victor Wong isn’t the reason for this thing.

The only other returning “stars” are the ninjas’ parents (Alan McRae and Margarita Franco). No one’s ever cared about them. Like Wong, they probably had the greatest actorly motivation of all – contractual obligation.

And it’s sure not the three ninjas themselves who made this a go. Hell, again they’ve been recast, and I mean they’ve all been recast. When Max Elliott Slade turns his back on your franchise, you know you’re finished. Rocky (now Matthew Botuchis) remains as bland as ever. Tum Tum (now J.P. Roeske II) grows ever younger with each new actor – he is now literally 6-years-old, and looks like a cupie doll. He cannot enunciate. And Colt (now Michael J. O’Laskey II) has taken on the world’s worst haircut, a disturbing combo of bowl cut, rattail and mullet. That’s not to mention Colt’s swollen, Angelina Jolie lips. So there’s not much going on here to necessitate a 3 Ninja quadruple dip.

There are other actors though, new actors, name actors, whose combined involvement just may justify the myopic reasoning behind Mega Mountain. In its own sick way, Mega Mountain is an ego project! And the person it’s stroking is none other than –


YEAAAAGHH!

That, friends, is none other than Loni Anderson, of “WKRP in Cincinnati,” in all her spray-tanned, spray-haired, campy Dolly Parton-esque glory. Here she essays the tremendously embarrassing role of Medusa, master criminal (or mistress criminal), and would-be Hans Gruber. In a 3 Ninjas example of “originality,” they’ve branched out in their rip-off pool, neglecting Karate Kid sequels (after all, by now they’d be up to The Next Karate Kid) in favor of Die Hard’s glorious R-rated fare.

It’s the old terrorist takeover scenario, now in the service of children’s entertainment (ah, 1998). The target: Mega Mountain, Mega Mountain being an ersatz Magic Mountain, Magic Mountain being the Six Flags amusement park near Los Angeles. The filming site, though, was Denver’s Six Flags, Elitches Gardens, but whatever. And it is now in the vile clutches of Medusa’s ninja terrorist army, led by the notorious Lothar Zogg (poor Jim Varney, famous as Ernest P. Worrell and the Toy Story Slinky Dog).

It just so happens Medusa’s amusement incursion falls on Tum Tum’s birthday, and he is at Mega Mountain celebrating with his brothers – and also improbable gadgeteer girl Amanda (Chelsey Earlywine). And the coincidences keep on comin’! For the only reason the three ninjas are here is for the one-day-only appearance of Tum Tum’s TV hero, start of a just-canceled “Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers” knockoff (man, even the fiction in the 3 Ninjas universe is nothing but rip-offs) – Dave Dragon!


Meet the heart and soul of Mega Mountain, “Hollywood” Hulk Hogan! This shirt-ripping Hulkamaniac (birth name Terry Gene Bollea) was the darling of the august pro-wrestling community. He was the noble, common Joe hero of the WWF (now WWE) until the mid-90s, when Hulk suddenly turned evil as the leader of the WCW’s nOw. The Hulkster’s opponents in his rise to WrestleMania world champion included the Iron Sheik and Brutus Beefcake, in events like the Bash at the Beach, Dungeon of Doom and Halloween Havoc. (The previous sentences typed with a straight face.) But around 1993, partway through the Hulk’s turn towards darkness, he left the WWF and devoted part of his energies to a film career.

Dismissing the distant outlier that is Rocky III, there is a remarkable consistency (of crap) on Hogan’s film choices. Let’s see, Suburban Commando, Mr. Nanny, Santa with Muscles…3 Ninjas: High Noon at Mega Mountain. It’s amazing an actor could sink lower than Suburban Commando, let alone three times in a row! Yes, each film is progressively stinkier, and each represents a bizarre effort to fuse the steroid-enhanced camp essence of pro-wrestling with the worst instincts of kid-vid filmmaking. I don’t know what the Hulkster was going for, as far as child-friendly public image and everything, but it’s easiest to assume (in regards to Mega Mountain) that it was the Hulk’s one last, final, desperate attempt to do something filmically before getting swallowed up whole by the WCW.

Obviously, Hogan was wishing for some sort of hero idolization with this effort. What he didn’t realize about all 3 Ninja movies is that adults must never appear competent. That is against the entire “child-ninja kicks consistent adult butt” fallacy which is so engrained into the franchise, it’s never even questioned or explained (consider in contrast the first 3 Ninjas’ attempts to justify its wackiness).

Come for the Hulk, but stay for three no-name preteen blackbelts without acting ability. For the Hulk is shortly shuttled away from the main action, captured with ease by Medusa’s minions (as villains, these adults must be partially competent, in easily wresting Mega Mountain away from other adults). The content of the Hulk’s (or, really, Dave Dragon’s) incarceration with Medusa in the park’s control room is the subject of nightmares. Seriously, I’m shocked such a leather and bondage fetish fantasy scenario could become the backbone of a family film!


That just leaves our bargain basement mini-McClanes, the three ninjas (and Amanda) being somehow the only civilians aware of Mega Mountain’s daylight takeover. This is even with the main gates sealed off, and the whole park staff (non-fatally) replaced. Their efforts to take back Mega Mountain are…boring. It’s the same sequence of implausible, repetitive Caucasian martial arts as always, with a bare minimum of two crotch shots per battle (mixed up on occasions with honest-to-goodness blows to the butthole). And because this movie is cheap, and resolutely non-fatal (one could never argue it is non-violent), the potentially joyous possibility of Die Hard at an Amusement Park never come to fruition. For one, the rides are barely utilized in the “action” sequences – we’re left with fights in vacant line queues.


Of course, it is that Die Hard formula which lends a scant degree of joy to Mega Mountain – unless you’re a connoisseur of bad acting, it’s the only joy to be had. The Die Hard on a _____ subgenre was so prevalent in the ‘90s, a student of this movement could predict Mega Mountain in his sleep.

The Takeover – Medusa’s methods have already been covered. This is also where a Die Hard film butts heads with a 3 Ninjas atrocity. Die Hard works by having a slow buildup to a meticulously constructed scenario; 3 Ninjas needs its inconsequential lunacy to start right away (all scored to seemingly the Lost Woods music from “Ocarina of Time,” through all four films). These two approaches do not mesh.

The Ransom – Why has mastermind Medusa manhandled Mega Mountain?! To demand a hefty ransom, of course, as in the most witless Die Hard rip-offs. That ransom – a hefty $10 million. If that seems paltry, it’s still 30 times more than Mega Mountain itself would make.

Fight # 1 – The McClane(s) discover the terrorists. And fight them. Not kill them, because we’d lose that purely decorative appearance of family friendliness. But simply leaving buffoonish ninjas contused sort of undermines Die Hard’s slow whittling structure.

Contacting the Police – The three ninjas call the cops! I’ll repeat that: The three ninjas call the cops! This is wildly against their usual worldview, but it is a Die Hard element. And exactly like Die Hard, it’s done from the highest point around (for best transmission, which sort of doesn’t make sense in this case). And because Mega Mountain has nothing but contempt for its audience, placing the three ninjas in a tall tower somehow does not result in an action sequence – and their subsequent falling to their deaths.

The FBI Arrives – The Feds set up a triage in the Mega Mountain parking lots. The boys’ dad has something to do for the first time since Part One, since he’s in the FBI. For once, Die Hard and Mega Mountain see eye-to-eye, for the Feds can never be competent (Die Hard), and they’re adults (3 Ninjas). But with a PG film’s fear of bloodshed, they can only be held at bay for stupid reasons – a six-foot-tall electric fence. Way to secure your fortress, Medusa.

The Retaliation – As punishment for the cops’ interference (really more Die Hard 2), Medusa causes one ride to go slightly faster. No, no! We’re edging dangerously close to suspense here, so –

Fight # 2 – The three ninjas beat up the (evil) ride operators. I don’t care to relate how. All the theme park patrons casually exit their former deathtrap, none the wiser as to the mortal terror they are all in. (Keeping the extras in the dark for so long seriously stretches credibility. But then again, I’m imagining credibility in a 3 Ninjas movie, so I have problems.)

Fight # 3 – Medusa pinpoints the ninjas’ location, and sends only her mightiest minions to take care of the job. Here we get a formula element so beloved of the 3 Ninjas movies, one which I was lamenting for its absence (yeah right). That element would be the moron trio!


Meet Medusa’s nephews, names unknown. They don’t even represent a subculture worthy of physical assault, as in the previous films…unless pure buffoonery is a subculture. Having seen Rocky, Colt and Tum Tum easily best ostensibly “serious” ninjas, there is little riding on their conflicts with these three functional illiterates. Let us just focus on how the nitwits are defeated: They’re placed on a ride. Not even a roller coaster, just a merry-go-round. And they scream their fool, mugging heads off. “Live action cartoon” is too kind a designation for this; this stuff actively espouses the glories of mental retardation.

Then the moron nephews vomit on screen. Whilst farting. I can actively feel my brain shrinking.

Fight # It All Just Goes Straight to Hell – Here’s where the rigorous Die Hard aping falls apart, because it’s climax was a careful construct of all which came before, whereas Mega Mountain simply gets worse. Yes, it’s possible. First, Rocky’s girlfriend whom I’ve never mentioned gets kidnapped – okay, this is sort of a Holly Genaro scenario here. She’s tied to a roller coaster’s tracks, because they’re now ripping off The Perils of Pauline of all freaking things, and Rocky must rush to rescue her – while dueling the dread Lothar Zogg.


They feint towards something interesting by setting this scene on top the coaster’s loop. Lothar Zogg even falls off, but rather than die Lothar Zogg bounces off a concession stand’s carnival roof and flies directly into police custody outside of the park. Up yours, movie!

Now a helicopter nears bearing the mighty $10 million ransom. This prompts Medusa to drag her aging, leather-clad ass directly to the park’s center, in broad daylight. Now, there’s nothing in Mega Mountain vaguely reflecting humanity, but the money exchange takes the cake. The delivery man up in the chopper weeps loudly as he throws the cash bags out. Below, Medusa endlessly intones “Money money money” in a way that would seem unusual coming from Scrooge McDuck. I assume the script was written in crayon. Or that (seriously) a small child was heavily involved in its creation.


Medusa and her thugs take their leave of Mega Mountain, descending into the park’s bowels – which look exactly like Snyder’s freighter ship from Part One. This means the inevitable ninja foofaraw is itself practically a shot for shot remake of 3 Ninjas’ climactic moments. Done by someone with 1/386th the skill of John Turtleltaub. Here’s a fun drinking game for this section: Take a shot every time a grown man’s gonads are massacred.

Hulk Hogan makes a surprise reappearance, as we all expect him to save the day. He even gets the closest Mega Mountain can boast to a badass one-liner: “Bring it on! One ninja stew coming up!” Then, with the greatest of ease, Medusa zaps the Hulkster unconscious. “No stew for you.” Oh that’s right, Mega Mountain is filled to the brim with an inexplicably large number of “Seinfeld” references. So these people clearly had access to intelligent entertainment – What went wrong here?!

Then Medusa sets up a bomb, because when all else fails, blow shit up. I’ll get an aneurysm if I try to relate what takes place here, at the end of things. Let’s just same something blows up, it isn’t Mega Mountain (drat!), and Medusa is arrested.


And Tum Tum, the 6-year-old who was recently avoiding murder at the hands of a sword-wielding maniac, declares it the best birthday ever.

Boy, talk about representing everything that is systemically wrong in children’s entertainment! There is nothing in the horribly-titled 3 Ninjas: High Noon at Mega Mountain which can amuse an adult, parent or no, without copious degrees of substance abuse or brain damage. And it is pandering towards a youth market in the worst possible way, with its foul combination of ill-founded premises, poor wit, and crotch mutilations. Many people use terms like “it was good, for a family film.” This is the wrong attitude to take. Our entertainment for children ought to be, if anything, better made – these are developing human beings, with a better sense for quality than adults are willing to credit them. Witness Mega Mountain’s anemic gross for an example. There was pretty much not a soul suckered into this worthless abomination. It simply rests as a testament to the folly of the 3 Ninjas franchise, a blindly self-perpetuating example of an outdated notion of children’s filmmaking. And may it stand for all time, as a warning to others: “Down this path thou shall not tread.”


Related posts:
• No. 1 3 Ninjas (1992)
• No. 2 3 Ninjas Kick Back (1994)
• No. 3 3 Ninjas Knuckle Up (1995)

3 Ninjas, No. 4 - 3 Ninjas: High Noon at Mega Mountain (1998)

Why does this movie exist? Does it exist? Sure it does, watching it proves that, as much as the subconscious wishes it to believe otherwise. But the “why” remains eternally mysterious, for 3 Ninjas Knuckle Up’s anemic $500,000 gross should’ve sent this franchise to an early grave…I mean, an earlier grave than 3 Ninjas: High Noon at Mega Mountain surely dug for it. But it did even worse! Made a mere $375,805! Any B.O. where you list the precise dollar amount is pretty bad. (Still, it’s no Zzyzx Road - $30.)

Perhaps Shin Sang-ok, director of Knuckle Up and producer of Mega Mountain, still sought atonement through this abortive franchise – I don’t know which victimized the poor man more, Kim Jong-il or 3 Ninjas.


It’s doubtful returning star Victor Wong (the esteemed Grandpa) had much riding on Mega Mountain – Poor Wong was clearly in his autumn years, as his bedraggled appearance attests. And he’s barely in this mess, mostly relegated to the opening few minutes – which makes them the best few minutes. Even his latest test for the titular trio, some kind of video game warehouse crazy Saw obstacle course, has a certain moronic charm about it – though I cannot figure out just how this thing exists in Grandpa’s vacant forest. But beyond this one mere scene, Grandpa is limited to reciting the few fortune cookies that passed by writer/director Sean McNamara (now solely allowed to direct episodes of things like “That’s So Raven”). So clearly Victor Wong isn’t the reason for this thing.

The only other returning “stars” are the ninjas’ parents (Alan McRae and Margarita Franco). No one’s ever cared about them. Like Wong, they probably had the greatest actorly motivation of all – contractual obligation.

And it’s sure not the three ninjas themselves who made this a go. Hell, again they’ve been recast, and I mean they’ve all been recast. When Max Elliott Slade turns his back on your franchise, you know you’re finished. Rocky (now Matthew Botuchis) remains as bland as ever. Tum Tum (now J.P. Roeske II) grows ever younger with each new actor – he is now literally 6-years-old, and looks like a cupie doll. He cannot enunciate. And Colt (now Michael J. O’Laskey II) has taken on the world’s worst haircut, a disturbing combo of bowl cut, rattail and mullet. That’s not to mention Colt’s swollen, Angelina Jolie lips. So there’s not much going on here to necessitate a 3 Ninja quadruple dip.

There are other actors though, new actors, name actors, whose combined involvement just may justify the myopic reasoning behind Mega Mountain. In its own sick way, Mega Mountain is an ego project! And the person it’s stroking is none other than –


YEAAAAGHH!

That, friends, is none other than Loni Anderson, of “WKRP in Cincinnati,” in all her spray-tanned, spray-haired, campy Dolly Parton-esque glory. Here she essays the tremendously embarrassing role of Medusa, master criminal (or mistress criminal), and would-be Hans Gruber. In a 3 Ninjas example of “originality,” they’ve branched out in their rip-off pool, neglecting Karate Kid sequels (after all, by now they’d be up to The Next Karate Kid) in favor of Die Hard’s glorious R-rated fare.

It’s the old terrorist takeover scenario, now in the service of children’s entertainment (ah, 1998). The target: Mega Mountain, Mega Mountain being an ersatz Magic Mountain, Magic Mountain being the Six Flags amusement park near Los Angeles. The filming site, though, was Denver’s Six Flags, Elitches Gardens, but whatever. And it is now in the vile clutches of Medusa’s ninja terrorist army, led by the notorious Lothar Zogg (poor Jim Varney, famous as Ernest P. Worrell and the Toy Story Slinky Dog).

It just so happens Medusa’s amusement incursion falls on Tum Tum’s birthday, and he is at Mega Mountain celebrating with his brothers – and also improbable gadgeteer girl Amanda (Chelsey Earlywine). And the coincidences keep on comin’! For the only reason the three ninjas are here is for the one-day-only appearance of Tum Tum’s TV hero, start of a just-canceled “Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers” knockoff (man, even the fiction in the 3 Ninjas universe is nothing but rip-offs) – Dave Dragon!


Meet the heart and soul of Mega Mountain, “Hollywood” Hulk Hogan! This shirt-ripping Hulkamaniac (birth name Terry Gene Bollea) was the darling of the august pro-wrestling community. He was the noble, common Joe hero of the WWF (now WWE) until the mid-90s, when Hulk suddenly turned evil as the leader of the WCW’s nOw. The Hulkster’s opponents in his rise to WrestleMania world champion included the Iron Sheik and Brutus Beefcake, in events like the Bash at the Beach, Dungeon of Doom and Halloween Havoc. (The previous sentences typed with a straight face.) But around 1993, partway through the Hulk’s turn towards darkness, he left the WWF and devoted part of his energies to a film career.

Dismissing the distant outlier that is Rocky III, there is a remarkable consistency (of crap) on Hogan’s film choices. Let’s see, Suburban Commando, Mr. Nanny, Santa with Muscles…3 Ninjas: High Noon at Mega Mountain. It’s amazing an actor could sink lower than Suburban Commando, let alone three times in a row! Yes, each film is progressively stinkier, and each represents a bizarre effort to fuse the steroid-enhanced camp essence of pro-wrestling with the worst instincts of kid-vid filmmaking. I don’t know what the Hulkster was going for, as far as child-friendly public image and everything, but it’s easiest to assume (in regards to Mega Mountain) that it was the Hulk’s one last, final, desperate attempt to do something filmically before getting swallowed up whole by the WCW.

Obviously, Hogan was wishing for some sort of hero idolization with this effort. What he didn’t realize about all 3 Ninja movies is that adults must never appear competent. That is against the entire “child-ninja kicks consistent adult butt” fallacy which is so engrained into the franchise, it’s never even questioned or explained (consider in contrast the first 3 Ninjas’ attempts to justify its wackiness).

Come for the Hulk, but stay for three no-name preteen blackbelts without acting ability. For the Hulk is shortly shuttled away from the main action, captured with ease by Medusa’s minions (as villains, these adults must be partially competent, in easily wresting Mega Mountain away from other adults). The content of the Hulk’s (or, really, Dave Dragon’s) incarceration with Medusa in the park’s control room is the subject of nightmares. Seriously, I’m shocked such a leather and bondage fetish fantasy scenario could become the backbone of a family film!


That just leaves our bargain basement mini-McClanes, the three ninjas (and Amanda) being somehow the only civilians aware of Mega Mountain’s daylight takeover. This is even with the main gates sealed off, and the whole park staff (non-fatally) replaced. Their efforts to take back Mega Mountain are…boring. It’s the same sequence of implausible, repetitive Caucasian martial arts as always, with a bare minimum of two crotch shots per battle (mixed up on occasions with honest-to-goodness blows to the butthole). And because this movie is cheap, and resolutely non-fatal (one could never argue it is non-violent), the potentially joyous possibility of Die Hard at an Amusement Park never come to fruition. For one, the rides are barely utilized in the “action” sequences – we’re left with fights in vacant line queues.


Of course, it is that Die Hard formula which lends a scant degree of joy to Mega Mountain – unless you’re a connoisseur of bad acting, it’s the only joy to be had. The Die Hard on a _____ subgenre was so prevalent in the ‘90s, a student of this movement could predict Mega Mountain in his sleep.

The Takeover – Medusa’s methods have already been covered. This is also where a Die Hard film butts heads with a 3 Ninjas atrocity. Die Hard works by having a slow buildup to a meticulously constructed scenario; 3 Ninjas needs its inconsequential lunacy to start right away (all scored to seemingly the Lost Woods music from “Ocarina of Time,” through all four films). These two approaches do not mesh.

The Ransom – Why has mastermind Medusa manhandled Mega Mountain?! To demand a hefty ransom, of course, as in the most witless Die Hard rip-offs. That ransom – a hefty $10 million. If that seems paltry, it’s still 30 times more than Mega Mountain itself would make.

Fight # 1 – The McClane(s) discover the terrorists. And fight them. Not kill them, because we’d lose that purely decorative appearance of family friendliness. But simply leaving buffoonish ninjas contused sort of undermines Die Hard’s slow whittling structure.

Contacting the Police – The three ninjas call the cops! I’ll repeat that: The three ninjas call the cops! This is wildly against their usual worldview, but it is a Die Hard element. And exactly like Die Hard, it’s done from the highest point around (for best transmission, which sort of doesn’t make sense in this case). And because Mega Mountain has nothing but contempt for its audience, placing the three ninjas in a tall tower somehow does not result in an action sequence – and their subsequent falling to their deaths.

The FBI Arrives – The Feds set up a triage in the Mega Mountain parking lots. The boys’ dad has something to do for the first time since Part One, since he’s in the FBI. For once, Die Hard and Mega Mountain see eye-to-eye, for the Feds can never be competent (Die Hard), and they’re adults (3 Ninjas). But with a PG film’s fear of bloodshed, they can only be held at bay for stupid reasons – a six-foot-tall electric fence. Way to secure your fortress, Medusa.

The Retaliation – As punishment for the cops’ interference (really more Die Hard 2), Medusa causes one ride to go slightly faster. No, no! We’re edging dangerously close to suspense here, so –

Fight # 2 – The three ninjas beat up the (evil) ride operators. I don’t care to relate how. All the theme park patrons casually exit their former deathtrap, none the wiser as to the mortal terror they are all in. (Keeping the extras in the dark for so long seriously stretches credibility. But then again, I’m imagining credibility in a 3 Ninjas movie, so I have problems.)

Fight # 3 – Medusa pinpoints the ninjas’ location, and sends only her mightiest minions to take care of the job. Here we get a formula element so beloved of the 3 Ninjas movies, one which I was lamenting for its absence (yeah right). That element would be the moron trio!


Meet Medusa’s nephews, names unknown. They don’t even represent a subculture worthy of physical assault, as in the previous films…unless pure buffoonery is a subculture. Having seen Rocky, Colt and Tum Tum easily best ostensibly “serious” ninjas, there is little riding on their conflicts with these three functional illiterates. Let us just focus on how the nitwits are defeated: They’re placed on a ride. Not even a roller coaster, just a merry-go-round. And they scream their fool, mugging heads off. “Live action cartoon” is too kind a designation for this; this stuff actively espouses the glories of mental retardation.

Then the moron nephews vomit on screen. Whilst farting. I can actively feel my brain shrinking.

Fight # It All Just Goes Straight to Hell – Here’s where the rigorous Die Hard aping falls apart, because it’s climax was a careful construct of all which came before, whereas Mega Mountain simply gets worse. Yes, it’s possible. First, Rocky’s girlfriend whom I’ve never mentioned gets kidnapped – okay, this is sort of a Holly Genaro scenario here. She’s tied to a roller coaster’s tracks, because they’re now ripping off The Perils of Pauline of all freaking things, and Rocky must rush to rescue her – while dueling the dread Lothar Zogg.


They feint towards something interesting by setting this scene on top the coaster’s loop. Lothar Zogg even falls off, but rather than die Lothar Zogg bounces off a concession stand’s carnival roof and flies directly into police custody outside of the park. Up yours, movie!

Now a helicopter nears bearing the mighty $10 million ransom. This prompts Medusa to drag her aging, leather-clad ass directly to the park’s center, in broad daylight. Now, there’s nothing in Mega Mountain vaguely reflecting humanity, but the money exchange takes the cake. The delivery man up in the chopper weeps loudly as he throws the cash bags out. Below, Medusa endlessly intones “Money money money” in a way that would seem unusual coming from Scrooge McDuck. I assume the script was written in crayon. Or that (seriously) a small child was heavily involved in its creation.


Medusa and her thugs take their leave of Mega Mountain, descending into the park’s bowels – which look exactly like Snyder’s freighter ship from Part One. This means the inevitable ninja foofaraw is itself practically a shot for shot remake of 3 Ninjas’ climactic moments. Done by someone with 1/386th the skill of John Turtleltaub. Here’s a fun drinking game for this section: Take a shot every time a grown man’s gonads are massacred.

Hulk Hogan makes a surprise reappearance, as we all expect him to save the day. He even gets the closest Mega Mountain can boast to a badass one-liner: “Bring it on! One ninja stew coming up!” Then, with the greatest of ease, Medusa zaps the Hulkster unconscious. “No stew for you.” Oh that’s right, Mega Mountain is filled to the brim with an inexplicably large number of “Seinfeld” references. So these people clearly had access to intelligent entertainment – What went wrong here?!

Then Medusa sets up a bomb, because when all else fails, blow shit up. I’ll get an aneurysm if I try to relate what takes place here, at the end of things. Let’s just same something blows up, it isn’t Mega Mountain (drat!), and Medusa is arrested.


And Tum Tum, the 6-year-old who was recently avoiding murder at the hands of a sword-wielding maniac, declares it the best birthday ever.

Boy, talk about representing everything that is systemically wrong in children’s entertainment! There is nothing in the horribly-titled 3 Ninjas: High Noon at Mega Mountain which can amuse an adult, parent or no, without copious degrees of substance abuse or brain damage. And it is pandering towards a youth market in the worst possible way, with its foul combination of ill-founded premises, poor wit, and crotch mutilations. Many people use terms like “it was good, for a family film.” This is the wrong attitude to take. Our entertainment for children ought to be, if anything, better made – these are developing human beings, with a better sense for quality than adults are willing to credit them. Witness Mega Mountain’s anemic gross for an example. There was pretty much not a soul suckered into this worthless abomination. It simply rests as a testament to the folly of the 3 Ninjas franchise, a blindly self-perpetuating example of an outdated notion of children’s filmmaking. And may it stand for all time, as a warning to others: “Down this path thou shall not tread.”


Related posts:
• No. 1 3 Ninjas (1992)
• No. 2 3 Ninjas Kick Back (1994)
• No. 3 3 Ninjas Knuckle Up (1995)

3 Ninjas, No. 3 - 3 Ninjas Knuckle Up (1995)

Think back to the previous sequel, 3 Ninjas Kick Back – the inevitable unwanted sequel to 1992’s 3 Ninjas. Remember it wasn’t the first sequel produced. That would be 3 Ninjas Knuckle Up (and just what is “knuckling up?”), filmed – mostly – in 1992, yet not released until 1995. And man, Kick Back was pretty awful! Just imagine the cinematic abortion that would be the skipped-over sequel, Knuckle Up – a movie I assume they eventually released simply because it existed.

As what is arguably the first sequel, Knuckle Up enjoys the original three actors/ninjas – it’s weird to watch these things chronologically, and see a reversion back from Kick Back’s uninspired casting to 3 Ninja’s uninspired casting. So once again we have the real Rocky (Michael Treanor), Colt (Max Elliott Slade) and Tum Tum (Chad Power – this is not a name given to humble children). Victor Wong is back, as always – he’s the only actor shameless enough to be in all the 3 Ninjas – in the role of Grandpa (they’ve dropped the confusion over Grandpa’s last name by simply refusing to give him one).

In fact, it’s not entirely quality which kept Knuckle Up away for so long (though it does suck). As of 1992 it was unfinished. This adds a little in-film discontinuity to go along with the inter-entry confusion. Occasional scenes suddenly show Rocky with braces, all the now-actually-pubescent leads squeaking away like a “Simpsons” teenager.

Things start out in the most standard possible way for a 3 Ninjas movie, with the boys summering up at Grandpa’s cabin, learning to kill. A brief detour sets up the main conflict – the local Indian tribe in Grandpa’s geographically indistinct region is protesting the dumping of toxic waste by eeeevil businessman Jack (Charles Napier, and am I the only one getting a sudden Joker vibe?). Somehow, Jack’s business model involves directly, intentionally damaging the environment, and the only way for the Indians to stop him is to find a floppy disc MacGuffin. It's like a Steven Seagal movie for kids!

The ninja trio stops off for pizza in the blandest middle California town they could’ve found. Here they have an early run-in with the formula-mandated trio of bumbling buffoons. This time it’s not surfers or moshers, but rednecks (the only one of note is J.J., played by Patrick Kilpatrick), eagerly shoving little children around for the sheer assholism of it. So the three ninjas fight them.


At this point, let’s just say there is no variation to the three ninja’s endless fight scenes. It’s all pitched at the same live-action cartoon tone, all of Isaac Newton’s laws are mercilessly violated, as children thrash adults with ease. Prop fu is attempted; Jackie Chan it ain’t. However, for once we have a director who just might show some efficacy at martial arts, for the director of Knuckle Up is Simon S. Sheen.

That pseudonym reveals nothing. He’s actually Shin Sang-ok, a noted South Korean director and winner of South Korea’s top artistic honor, the Gold Crown Cultural Medal. So…Asian, ostensibly skilled…Of course there’s another reason Sang-ok won that medal…

He was kidnapped by Kim Jong-il!

Yes, in 1978 Sang-ok was captured by the wicked, film-hungry madmen of North Korea, shuttled from one internment capsule to another for several years, and then forced into filmmaking in the early ‘80s to stroke Kim Jong-il’s fragile ego. His most notable accomplishment was a Godzilla rip-off called Pulgasari. It is a propaganda metaphor about the effects of unchecked capitalism.

Then in 1986, Sang-ok escaped the Korean peninsula and sought political amnesty in the United States. This jumpstarted a remarkably fruitless career in Hollywood, of which his finest labor happens to be…3 Ninjas Knuckle Up.

I take this detour because it is far more interesting than Sang-ok’s ostensible “masterpiece.” So let there simply be one more observation about the endless action sequences. Basically, Knuckle Up is closest in mentality to an actual martial arts flick – you know, something Asian. The ratio of interminable fights to under-baked plot scenes bears that out. This approach is wonderful to behold when the fighting is good; here, our “martial artists” are three white children, so Sang-ok’s efforts are as doomed-to-failure as in North Korea. I’d say Knuckle Up probably shows capitalism’s faults far better than any old pseudo kaiju ever could.

And can you believe this beast was rated PG-13 (for “non-stop ninja action”)?! Nice try, guys.

Okay, okay, I’ll get back to the movie…

Grandpa opposes his grandsons’ non-stop ninja action – he does this because Mr. Miyagi would do likewise (WWMD). And here I can see why Knuckle Up was released third – if you squint really hard, it resembles The Karate Kid Part III, just as Kick Back was The Karate Kid Part II. Just replace Miyagi’s bonsai obsession with an orchid obsession.

So there is this Indian girl, Jo (Crystle Lightning, of American Pie Presents Band Camp), whose father has been kidnapped by Jack’s redneck posse. This looks like a job for not one, not two, but three ninjas! Off they creep, all ninja-like, into Jack’s landfill. Hell, they even traipse around in full-on green toxic waste, of purest '80s Troma variety. Later, they’ll sneak through the sewers. Hmm, ninjas, sewers, toxic waste, why does this sound familiar?


They confirm that Jo’s dad Charlie (Don Shanks) is bound up in Jack’s warehouse. For the first time ever the three ninjas contemplate calling the police, except the Sheriff is in Jack’s proverbial pocket (so is the Mayor).

Telling Jo of this development, all resolve to rescue Charlie tonight – after all, tomorrow is the hearing about destroying Jack’s landfill, and only Charlie knows where the disc to implicate Jack is. These four youths MacGuyver themselves up some weaponry, dismantling the majority of Jo’s Indian village in the process. They also put on war paint, a peace sign drawn on Tum Tum’s forehead. Quoth he: “Peace?! I hate peace.” I can see why the MPAA rated this PG-13, just to curtail the spread of such stupid notions to children.


Charlie is rescued, as the three ninjas battle rednecks, and I battle boredom. The following battle, like all which Knuckle Up knuckles up, is long, and lacking in enough variation to be worth recounting. Rather, let’s just give each fight sequence a title, and move on.

LANDFILL FOLLIES!

Okay, moving on…

We take a break for one of the years-later scenes, filmed at Grandpa’s cabin in the daytime. Rocky scratches his new zits while Grandpa berates their latest ninja-y nonsense.

Then it’s on to the Indian village, nighttime once again, for a big festival and dance held in the three ninja’s honor. Going off of the last scene, presumably this is now the night after the hearing, when dialogue continues to insist it is “tomorrow.” Wow, that tacked-on scene created a major continuity problem, eh?


Also, despite this taking place on the Californian coast (based off of where the previous 3 Ninjas took place, as well as the plainly visible mountains of San Luis Obispo on display), the movie presents all Native American culture as Plains Indians. For the 3 Ninjas, there is nothing but stereotyping!

The three ninjas take a break from action scenes. Seeing as they cannot act, instead they perform an unappealing breakdance for the Indians – by now they’re stealing from Michael Jackson. Man, this must’ve seemed dated, even in 1992! But thankfully (er, I mean, unfortunately), Jack and his redneck hoard interrupt the celebration to try snatching Charlie’s disc .

VILLAGE VIOLENCE!

The villains are easily routed, which is not something you expect to report at the halfway point. Jack debates canceling the hearing, but realizes the sudden media presence (which we never see) means he’ll have to continue. Instead, he opts to hire a mass of mercenaries. Oh yeah, the media won’t pick up on that!

Pausing for another wildly unnecessary new scene, the boys give Grandpa a nude massage in his hot tub. I wish I were making this up.

Another pause in viciousness allows them to harp upon the film’s insipid flower theme – it’s the bit of mystical wisdom our heroes don’t work out until the finale, as in all martial arts movies. Getting that flower nonsense out of the way, the ninjas and Indians are now all driving towards the courthouse when – a motorcycle gang shows up!

MOTORCYCLE MAYHEM!


Jo is kidnapped in the MAYHEM, while the three ninjas acquire a car. Charlie and his cohort Californian Comanches continue to the courthouse, where Jack informs him of Jo’s new status as a bargaining chip. Ah, so it’s blackmail! Thus Charlie shall not produce his disc without Jo present, making her the new MacGuffin. Wonderful way to use your female lead, guys!

The three ninjas motor up to a random Old West town, vast and vacant. The perfect place for an action sequence. Indeed –

OLD WEST WACKINESS!


This is one lengthy fight sequence, even by Knuckle Up standards. Indeed, it takes up the remainder of the film – nearly a third. As I’ve resolved to remain tight-lipped about these fights, there’s not much else to say. The sudden proliferation of screen caps (which I take at regular intervals) should alone suggest how lengthy this section is.


Finally the ninjas rescue Jo from the biker gang (why is this stuff not awesome?). One awkward jump cut later and they’re at the courthouse, where – Oh dear!

COURTHOUSE CRAZINESS!

So we put up with a little more monotonous lunacy, against the redneck trio (who are as inefficacious as ever). Jo rushes in to see Charlie, he then willingly produces the disc, and a convenient EPA guy declares Jack suddenly out of business – just like that. Villainous Jack’s reaction to this news is quite good, because it also sums up my feelings about this movie.


But dear Buddha, what of the flowers?! Indeed, so one-tracked were the various fights, they never even bothered to insert the content, the moral, the message this film purports to be about (because no family film can avoid crowing some over-staged message). Rather, the flower thing is allowed to play out after the fact, as the ninjas relax together on the lawn. A close-up rose buds in time lapse, as Grandpa’s voice over speaks directly to Rocky. It is very cheesy. What it boils down to is this: Flowers don’t show off. What fortune cookie did Grandpa get that from?!

Based on the monetary success if 3 Ninjas Kick Back ($11 million, well below 3 Ninjas), there is barely any reason for 3 Ninjas Knuckle Up to exist. But it already did exist, basically, so it makes sense then to take it off of the shelf and try to recoup costs. It did not do that. However much money was riding on this, I’m sure Knuckle Up’s paltry half million dollar take couldn’t cover it. For a mainstream release, that is an abysmal tally! Surely that should mean the death knell of this inexplicable, juvenile franchise.

And yet, it’s not. One final 3 Ninjas would come about (if it didn’t, we wouldn’t be talking about these films). I surely cannot offer up a single reason for why 3 Ninjas: High Noon at Mega Mountain exists, and yet it does. This deep in the quagmire of kid-vid rubbish, there’s not much one can hope for with Mega Mountain, except…it might even be more awful than its predecessors, and therefore be good!


Related posts:
• No. 1 3 Ninjas (1992)
• No. 2 3 Ninjas Kick Back (1994)
• No. 4 3 Ninjas: High Noon at Mega Mountain (1998)

3 Ninjas, No. 3 - 3 Ninjas Knuckle Up (1995)

Think back to the previous sequel, 3 Ninjas Kick Back – the inevitable unwanted sequel to 1992’s 3 Ninjas. Remember it wasn’t the first sequel produced. That would be 3 Ninjas Knuckle Up (and just what is “knuckling up?”), filmed – mostly – in 1992, yet not released until 1995. And man, Kick Back was pretty awful! Just imagine the cinematic abortion that would be the skipped-over sequel, Knuckle Up – a movie I assume they eventually released simply because it existed.

As what is arguably the first sequel, Knuckle Up enjoys the original three actors/ninjas – it’s weird to watch these things chronologically, and see a reversion back from Kick Back’s uninspired casting to 3 Ninja’s uninspired casting. So once again we have the real Rocky (Michael Treanor), Colt (Max Elliott Slade) and Tum Tum (Chad Power – this is not a name given to humble children). Victor Wong is back, as always – he’s the only actor shameless enough to be in all the 3 Ninjas – in the role of Grandpa (they’ve dropped the confusion over Grandpa’s last name by simply refusing to give him one).

In fact, it’s not entirely quality which kept Knuckle Up away for so long (though it does suck). As of 1992 it was unfinished. This adds a little in-film discontinuity to go along with the inter-entry confusion. Occasional scenes suddenly show Rocky with braces, all the now-actually-pubescent leads squeaking away like a “Simpsons” teenager.

Things start out in the most standard possible way for a 3 Ninjas movie, with the boys summering up at Grandpa’s cabin, learning to kill. A brief detour sets up the main conflict – the local Indian tribe in Grandpa’s geographically indistinct region is protesting the dumping of toxic waste by eeeevil businessman Jack (Charles Napier, and am I the only one getting a sudden Joker vibe?). Somehow, Jack’s business model involves directly, intentionally damaging the environment, and the only way for the Indians to stop him is to find a floppy disc MacGuffin. It's like a Steven Seagal movie for kids!

The ninja trio stops off for pizza in the blandest middle California town they could’ve found. Here they have an early run-in with the formula-mandated trio of bumbling buffoons. This time it’s not surfers or moshers, but rednecks (the only one of note is J.J., played by Patrick Kilpatrick), eagerly shoving little children around for the sheer assholism of it. So the three ninjas fight them.


At this point, let’s just say there is no variation to the three ninja’s endless fight scenes. It’s all pitched at the same live-action cartoon tone, all of Isaac Newton’s laws are mercilessly violated, as children thrash adults with ease. Prop fu is attempted; Jackie Chan it ain’t. However, for once we have a director who just might show some efficacy at martial arts, for the director of Knuckle Up is Simon S. Sheen.

That pseudonym reveals nothing. He’s actually Shin Sang-ok, a noted South Korean director and winner of South Korea’s top artistic honor, the Gold Crown Cultural Medal. So…Asian, ostensibly skilled…Of course there’s another reason Sang-ok won that medal…

He was kidnapped by Kim Jong-il!

Yes, in 1978 Sang-ok was captured by the wicked, film-hungry madmen of North Korea, shuttled from one internment capsule to another for several years, and then forced into filmmaking in the early ‘80s to stroke Kim Jong-il’s fragile ego. His most notable accomplishment was a Godzilla rip-off called Pulgasari. It is a propaganda metaphor about the effects of unchecked capitalism.

Then in 1986, Sang-ok escaped the Korean peninsula and sought political amnesty in the United States. This jumpstarted a remarkably fruitless career in Hollywood, of which his finest labor happens to be…3 Ninjas Knuckle Up.

I take this detour because it is far more interesting than Sang-ok’s ostensible “masterpiece.” So let there simply be one more observation about the endless action sequences. Basically, Knuckle Up is closest in mentality to an actual martial arts flick – you know, something Asian. The ratio of interminable fights to under-baked plot scenes bears that out. This approach is wonderful to behold when the fighting is good; here, our “martial artists” are three white children, so Sang-ok’s efforts are as doomed-to-failure as in North Korea. I’d say Knuckle Up probably shows capitalism’s faults far better than any old pseudo kaiju ever could.

And can you believe this beast was rated PG-13 (for “non-stop ninja action”)?! Nice try, guys.

Okay, okay, I’ll get back to the movie…

Grandpa opposes his grandsons’ non-stop ninja action – he does this because Mr. Miyagi would do likewise (WWMD). And here I can see why Knuckle Up was released third – if you squint really hard, it resembles The Karate Kid Part III, just as Kick Back was The Karate Kid Part II. Just replace Miyagi’s bonsai obsession with an orchid obsession.

So there is this Indian girl, Jo (Crystle Lightning, of American Pie Presents Band Camp), whose father has been kidnapped by Jack’s redneck posse. This looks like a job for not one, not two, but three ninjas! Off they creep, all ninja-like, into Jack’s landfill. Hell, they even traipse around in full-on green toxic waste, of purest '80s Troma variety. Later, they’ll sneak through the sewers. Hmm, ninjas, sewers, toxic waste, why does this sound familiar?


They confirm that Jo’s dad Charlie (Don Shanks) is bound up in Jack’s warehouse. For the first time ever the three ninjas contemplate calling the police, except the Sheriff is in Jack’s proverbial pocket (so is the Mayor).

Telling Jo of this development, all resolve to rescue Charlie tonight – after all, tomorrow is the hearing about destroying Jack’s landfill, and only Charlie knows where the disc to implicate Jack is. These four youths MacGuyver themselves up some weaponry, dismantling the majority of Jo’s Indian village in the process. They also put on war paint, a peace sign drawn on Tum Tum’s forehead. Quoth he: “Peace?! I hate peace.” I can see why the MPAA rated this PG-13, just to curtail the spread of such stupid notions to children.


Charlie is rescued, as the three ninjas battle rednecks, and I battle boredom. The following battle, like all which Knuckle Up knuckles up, is long, and lacking in enough variation to be worth recounting. Rather, let’s just give each fight sequence a title, and move on.

LANDFILL FOLLIES!

Okay, moving on…

We take a break for one of the years-later scenes, filmed at Grandpa’s cabin in the daytime. Rocky scratches his new zits while Grandpa berates their latest ninja-y nonsense.

Then it’s on to the Indian village, nighttime once again, for a big festival and dance held in the three ninja’s honor. Going off of the last scene, presumably this is now the night after the hearing, when dialogue continues to insist it is “tomorrow.” Wow, that tacked-on scene created a major continuity problem, eh?


Also, despite this taking place on the Californian coast (based off of where the previous 3 Ninjas took place, as well as the plainly visible mountains of San Luis Obispo on display), the movie presents all Native American culture as Plains Indians. For the 3 Ninjas, there is nothing but stereotyping!

The three ninjas take a break from action scenes. Seeing as they cannot act, instead they perform an unappealing breakdance for the Indians – by now they’re stealing from Michael Jackson. Man, this must’ve seemed dated, even in 1992! But thankfully (er, I mean, unfortunately), Jack and his redneck hoard interrupt the celebration to try snatching Charlie’s disc .

VILLAGE VIOLENCE!

The villains are easily routed, which is not something you expect to report at the halfway point. Jack debates canceling the hearing, but realizes the sudden media presence (which we never see) means he’ll have to continue. Instead, he opts to hire a mass of mercenaries. Oh yeah, the media won’t pick up on that!

Pausing for another wildly unnecessary new scene, the boys give Grandpa a nude massage in his hot tub. I wish I were making this up.

Another pause in viciousness allows them to harp upon the film’s insipid flower theme – it’s the bit of mystical wisdom our heroes don’t work out until the finale, as in all martial arts movies. Getting that flower nonsense out of the way, the ninjas and Indians are now all driving towards the courthouse when – a motorcycle gang shows up!

MOTORCYCLE MAYHEM!


Jo is kidnapped in the MAYHEM, while the three ninjas acquire a car. Charlie and his cohort Californian Comanches continue to the courthouse, where Jack informs him of Jo’s new status as a bargaining chip. Ah, so it’s blackmail! Thus Charlie shall not produce his disc without Jo present, making her the new MacGuffin. Wonderful way to use your female lead, guys!

The three ninjas motor up to a random Old West town, vast and vacant. The perfect place for an action sequence. Indeed –

OLD WEST WACKINESS!


This is one lengthy fight sequence, even by Knuckle Up standards. Indeed, it takes up the remainder of the film – nearly a third. As I’ve resolved to remain tight-lipped about these fights, there’s not much else to say. The sudden proliferation of screen caps (which I take at regular intervals) should alone suggest how lengthy this section is.


Finally the ninjas rescue Jo from the biker gang (why is this stuff not awesome?). One awkward jump cut later and they’re at the courthouse, where – Oh dear!

COURTHOUSE CRAZINESS!

So we put up with a little more monotonous lunacy, against the redneck trio (who are as inefficacious as ever). Jo rushes in to see Charlie, he then willingly produces the disc, and a convenient EPA guy declares Jack suddenly out of business – just like that. Villainous Jack’s reaction to this news is quite good, because it also sums up my feelings about this movie.


But dear Buddha, what of the flowers?! Indeed, so one-tracked were the various fights, they never even bothered to insert the content, the moral, the message this film purports to be about (because no family film can avoid crowing some over-staged message). Rather, the flower thing is allowed to play out after the fact, as the ninjas relax together on the lawn. A close-up rose buds in time lapse, as Grandpa’s voice over speaks directly to Rocky. It is very cheesy. What it boils down to is this: Flowers don’t show off. What fortune cookie did Grandpa get that from?!

Based on the monetary success if 3 Ninjas Kick Back ($11 million, well below 3 Ninjas), there is barely any reason for 3 Ninjas Knuckle Up to exist. But it already did exist, basically, so it makes sense then to take it off of the shelf and try to recoup costs. It did not do that. However much money was riding on this, I’m sure Knuckle Up’s paltry half million dollar take couldn’t cover it. For a mainstream release, that is an abysmal tally! Surely that should mean the death knell of this inexplicable, juvenile franchise.

And yet, it’s not. One final 3 Ninjas would come about (if it didn’t, we wouldn’t be talking about these films). I surely cannot offer up a single reason for why 3 Ninjas: High Noon at Mega Mountain exists, and yet it does. This deep in the quagmire of kid-vid rubbish, there’s not much one can hope for with Mega Mountain, except…it might even be more awful than its predecessors, and therefore be good!


Related posts:
• No. 1 3 Ninjas (1992)
• No. 2 3 Ninjas Kick Back (1994)
• No. 4 3 Ninjas: High Noon at Mega Mountain (1998)

3 Ninjas, No. 2 - 3 Ninjas Kick Back (1994)

Disney (or really, Touchstone) got what they wanted out of 3 Ninjas: the start of director John Turtleltaub’s slide from bad mediocrity into good mediocrity. No sequels would be forthcoming. So TriStar acquired the 3 Ninja name (for what difference it makes) and ushered in the rest of the series.

In 1992 they started immediate production on a follow-up, not titled 3 Ninjas 2 or 4 Ninjas or something mathematically complicated like that, but rather 3 Ninjas Knuckle Up. This was to be released a mere year following 3 Ninjas’ triumph – yes, strike while that iron’s hot, for this series has a rapidly maturing target audience of 11 and 11½. And yet…Knuckle Up was not released in 1993, for reasons the Internet is very tight-lipped about. Presumably, it wasn’t good enough.

Instead, work began on a second sequel, 3 Ninjas Kick Back (named after the misappropriated funds from Knuckle Up). Though this was the third 3 Ninjas movie filmed, it was the second one released – therefore, it is Part Two. And never mind the cast changed up somewhat by this stage (seeing as actors age at the same rate as normal human beings). Of our titular trio, the Douglas brothers – steadfast Rocky (Sean Fox), simply fast Colt (Max Elliott Slade), and gourmand Tum Tum (J. Evan Bonifant) – only Colt’s actor remains from the original. Ergo, Colt gets the biggest character arc in Kick Back. The other kids are new – and Tum Tum has somehow de-aged to keep the trio’s average age the same as before.

Victor Wong is still around, of course, in the role of Grandpa Mori Shintaro. (Strange, in 3 Ninjas he was called Mori Tanaka – The continuity gods have also forgotten what the Douglas brothers’ house once looked like, so whatever.)

The great rip-off machine that was 3 Ninjas is somewhat tempered – out of the new team’s inability to accomplish even that. The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles connection remains, purely by dint of the franchise’s founding premise. The Home Alone stuff is condensed into a single section. Only the Karate Kid plagiarism continues apace, although now they’ve gone with The Karate Kid Part II on account of this is a Part Two. Consider. The elderly Japanese karate teacher (Grandpa, Mr. Miyagi) is returning to his tiny hometown in Japan, accompanied by his pupil(s), where conflict shall arise with his powerful childhood rival. And that’s not counting the equivalent love interest scenario, et cetera. The lone true difference is one of tone, with Kick Back sacrificing The Karate Kid’s reverence for Japanese culture in favor of insane ADD sugar rush idiocy Hell, Kick Back makes the original 3 Ninjas seem sedate!


Still, it’ll be a full third of a film before we can reach Japan – due to the tyranny of three act structure misapplied. And while we’re all primed to see Grandpa return his ceremonial “Best Ninja of 1947” dagger to the town of Koga – where he won it by defeating an evil ninja also called Koga for some reason – instead the movie shall spin its wheels with…a baseball game! Yeah, that’s what we’re here to see. All three prepubescent ninjas are playing for the Little League Dragons, despite their 6-year age difference, and having a mighty tough time of winning against the bully-ridden Mustangs. What is it with these films? They depict kids easily besting hoards of blackbelts, and yet bullies remain an issue! Perhaps it’s the filmmakers’ (and director Charles T. Kanganis’ – who?!) ill-founded effort to make events “relatable” to their audience. Who cares?

It is amazing. This baseball game continues on far out of proportion with its plot utility – which is to set up Colt’s arc by depicting his temper. Rather, we’re nearly 15 minutes into this 90 minute flick by the time the game finally lets up. The time in between is populated by context-free incidents. Like so many elements from 3 Ninjas, these events can only be conveyed through the art of the list:

- Tum Tum, the catcher, accidentally catches his own hotdog (!) instead of the baseball. Because this “relatable” child, with his demented food-lust, has a hotdog on his person at all times. I’m no Freudian, but…

- Rocky, the pitcher, is horny. Thus, he is distracted by a somewhat fat chick, Lisa, and walks his opponent.

- A rival child takes the plate, all while feasting on canned chili – What is with the food?! This leads directly into The Most Artless Fart Joke of All Time, as the lad flatulences endlessly and repeatedly while batting, while running the bases, and for about a minute afterwards. Sometimes such sick overkill works (Mr. Creosote in The Meaning of Life), but here it seems based on a basic misunderstanding of comedic principles.

- Colt is walked. That is, the ball strikes his face.

- The entire game devolves into a massive wrestling pile, Tum Tum’s hotdogs strewing everywhere (hello again, Dr. Freud). The game is suspended for one week.

- For good measure, the fat child farts some more.

Well…that was a waste of time. Even worse, it leaves the Douglas brothers wildly opposed to a Japanese vacation (except for Tum Tum, who wants to see sumo because “they eat a lot of food” – this characterization is strange). Also, their father Sam (returning thespian Alan McRae) abhors their ninja training, conveniently forgetting the lesson he learned in Part One so he can learn it again – ah, sequel-necessitated plot amnesia. Basically, he thinks all his boys should do, day in and day out, is play baseball. In this film’s universe, baseball is the only important thing on earth – and it doesn’t even take place in Boston!

This plot isn’t going to start itself, so let’s meet Koga the man (Sab Shimono) – a villain. He wishes to steal Grandpa’s dagger, because the dagger can open the door to a cave of gold (sure, why not). For reasons even less evident than its parallel in 3 Ninjas, Koga hires a trio of drug-using wastrel twenty-somethings to commit this deed. Before, it was surfers; now, it’s three metalheads, or glam rockers, or something…whatever it is, it’s not as good.


Meet the trio of idiotic (yet multicultural) clowns: Vinnie, Slam and Glam (Jason Schombing, Angelo Tiffe, Dustin Nguyen). They more or less just stroll outright over to Grandpa’s cabin. Taking one look at them, the three ninjas decide upon a policy of physical assault – because this happened on Part One. This is the shortened Home Alone section, dumb-dumbs bested by a series of slapstick traps instead of by ninjitsu. It’s not worth getting into the details. But behold one meta moment: “Who are you guys, Teenage Mutant Wannabes?” Speak it, Glam! “We’re the three ninjas!” Oh damn it.

The dagger remains unstolen. And now Grandpa is taking it alone to Japan, to present the dagger to the victor in Koga’s (the town’s) ninja tournament – apparently this tournament skips several generations, since Grandpa’s had the dagger in the U.S. for Pazuzu knows how long.

Grandpa is in Japan for a mere few seconds when the mosher morons – in Japan too through the power of cinematic shorthand – have gotten the better of him – through the powers of sheer idiocy. See, they accidentally rear ended his taxi while staring at the local businessmen bowing – in Kick Back’s assessment, Japan consists of nothing but bowing. So Grandpa is given “hilarious” whiplash, while the dimwits collect his satchel presumably containing the dagger.

Taking it back to Koga (the man), they find instead it has only Tum Tum’s still-primed mousetrap. Considering this gag was set up 5,500 miles ago, this isn’t planet Earth’s most efficient slapstick. As it turns out, the three ninjas back in L.A. have the dagger, due to an elaborate set of coincidences at home in either a mid-90s family comedy or a Final Destination film.


Grandpa phones his Caucasian grandsons with the news, all while being comically tortured by a whale-like nurse. And FINALLY the Douglas boys shall be travelling to Japan, to deliver Grandpa’s dagger to Koga (the town). To affect their escape from the U.S., they use a form of “ingenuity” Rocky called “ninjanuity.” This basically boils down to packing their bags, leaving a note, and purchasing their plane tickets with a recording of Grandpa’s voice – this being one of the Home Alone gags Part One didn’t pilfer. And all this is done in the fastest fast-forward footage found in film – Kick Back has a studied devotion to ADD, it does.

When Mom returns home and sees her sons’ note, she even screams like Catherine O’Hara in Home Alone – okay, they’re ripping it off more than I’d claimed.

Soon enough, the lads are with Grandpa in the Tokyo hospital, having endured the first of many time-wasting montages set to…I think it’s called “Jap rap.” Or jal-pop, maybe. Anyway, time is killed with more of the same torturous nurse gag. Then Grandpa charges his grandsons with their trek to the ninja tournament. They go on their way, as a new nurse enters to rend Grandpa’s mortal coil – this “nurse” being the fattest man the filmmakers could find, dressed in drag. It’s not pretty.


The town of Koga pretty much looks like Kyoto, only with flat cinematography. It’s shown in montage. The three ninjas reach the ninja tournament, which has three hundred ninjas. Going to Japan, and reveling in genuine martial arts, is the smartest thing this movie could have done, and here’s where it works the best – the ninja battles are far better choreographed than anything else in the franchise, perhaps because they’re not struggling to camouflage Grandpa’s stunt double, or having a 3-foot tall boy kick grown men across the room.

Colt grows overconfident about his own great white ninja badassery, and sneaks his way into the tournament by ethically dubious means. He fights another ninja in the final – I don’t think this franchise’s definition of “ninja” coincides with Wikipedia’s – and loses. And that other ninja is…“A girl?!” Ah, family films, where the same plot twist I’d assumed died out with ‘50s sci-fi films can perpetuate. This preteen girl, by the way, is Miyo (Caroline Junk King), the potential “fourth ninja” had they wanted to go with a different title.

The Grand Master deigns Miyo shan’t receive the dagger until Grandpa can arrive – ah, plot stalling. In the interim, the three ninjas lodge with Miyo in what looks to be an ancient religious shrine – but which the film assures us is a Japanese suburban home.

Miyo wishes to play baseball – yes, movie, they play baseball in Japan – but cannot catch. Also, she confuses “bats” and “butts,” in an extended abortion on the “Who’s On First” routine. What a coincidence! Colt is good at baseball (we’re meant to believe), and Miyo’s good at ninja. They can teach each other! I sense montage!


Meanwhile, the moron mosher trio has tracked the dagger back to Miyo’s place in Koga (the town). Koga (the man) sees basic logic, at last, and opts to send his mightiest henchmen – countless, easily defeatable ninja. Also Yakuza. This leads to a comic chase between these 50 men and 4 children throughout holiest Japan, pitched to the rafters – sometimes literally. Oh, and ninjas can be defeated by pantsing. Keep that in mind, the next time ninjas assault you in a darkened alley. They can also be tripped by Tum Tum’s jelly beans, which is a gag from Part One.

After enough vague wackiness has been wrung from this scenario, Koga (the man) captures the four children, collects the dagger, and holds them all prisoner in his secret ninja compound – a prominent building in the center of town. The trio, even sumo-psycho Tum Tum, grows homesick. The film’s dubious lesson: never leave the United States, other cultures make worse cheeseburgers.

Though Koga (the man) now possesses the dagger, he needs Grandpa to know where the cave of gold is – because that’s something they tell winners of the ninja tournament, apparently. Grandpa must be kidnapped, but Koga (the man) again suffers a standard villain brain aneurism, and sics his three nitwits on Grandpa instead of, you know, using his ninja army. And how do those window-lickers attempt this?


By dressing in drag! Japan, by Kick Back’s assessment, is nothing but hyperactivity and men dressed as nurses – when in reality that’s only the Akihabara district. And this segment, though it revels in the same insistent immaturity as the whole, is something I find more enjoyable…for some reason. Mostly because I, at home, whooped and nyucked like a Stooge throughout. And though Vinnie, Slam and Glam are predictable failures in their attempted kidnapping, Koga’s (the man’s) henchmen just come right in and get the job done anyway. Really, they only gave us the metalheads’ swansong for reasons tenuously connected to entertainment.

Now Grandpa sees his grandsons (and Miyo) cordoned away, he reveals the cave’s location – beneath Castle Ikune, which is conveniently right across the street. Ye gods! Off go Grandpa, Koga (the man), and many top henchmen, leaving the three ninjas under the watchful eye of some dumb, dumb guards. So they escape. A brief chase about Koga’s (the man’s) compound is the chance for a little more ninja vs. child action – those ninjas never stood a chance. Even in a Chinese Connection conundrum – Bruce Lee’s greatest forgotten effort – our stumpy heroes prove untouchable. And as a “level boss,” the rooftop has some sumo on it. For whatever reason. So Tum Tum gets to satisfy his desire to meet sumo, and then he kicks their asses. (One of the sumo then farts. Oh yes.)

Also on the rooftop, for equally arcane reasons, are two hang gliders. The youths use these to reach nearby Castle Ikune, because they filmed a hang gliding sequence and had to squeeze it in someplace.

Grandpa leads Koga (the man) et al into the caves, represented by the mine set from Temple of Doom. Also, the scaffolding from Once Upon a Time in China is there, which is the chance for an under-realized action sequence later on. It’s action sequence by way of pratfalls, of course. I’m no longer sure how to convey the tone and content of these sequences, so rather just pound back a six pack of Mountain Dew and clang your head repeatedly with a pan.


Naturally, there is the final conflict between Grandpa and Koga (the man). Koga (the man) is only defeated when the three ninjas spill into the gold room via an inexplicable slide – like the sumo and hang gliders, etc., I’m not sure why this is here. But then Koga (the man) produces a pistol, cackling about how it makes him the world’s greatest ninja somehow.

Colt gets to save the day. He has a ninja ball in his pocket, which they’ve kept on harping about like any good “gun on the wall.” Using the mysticism of the ages, Colt throws this ball into Koga’s (the man’s) gun barrel – Quick! Does this image remind you of anything?


That’s right, Die Another Day ripped off 3 Ninjas Kick Back, which is a very bad thing.

His gun now exploded, Koga (the man) sees the true meaning of ninjitsu – “A true ninja is free of all desire.” Also, the gold cave has collapsed in on itself, because no story of this sort ever allows the hero to wind up with the treasure – except for John Turtleltaub’s National Treasure. And, well, everything’s resolved, a wacky adventure in Japan is complete, and so –

Say what?! There’s 13 more minutes left?! Oh…oh no. You know what that means…

Baseball! Satisfying Kick Back’s real concern (over ninjas, Japan, all that fun stuff), we must see seemingly the entirety of the boys’ follow-up baseball game. Once again, this film takes on a poor sense of pacing equal to the sport itself. That means it’s list time:

- The farting child farts. He fart-propels his way all across the bases. Why are we going back to this fecund well?! (As gag “escalation,” there’s now even use of aerosol spray and clothespins on the nose.)

- One of the Dragons (the good team) catches a would-be home run. It turns out it’s Miyo. “A great catch – by a girl?!” Every human on the field suffers sudden gender shock.

- Dad congratulates his boys, once again understanding ninja’s utility at film’s end.

- But the film isn’t over. Colt is up to bat, bases loaded, down by three at the bottom of the ninth. Yeah, it’s that classic climactic baseball setup which never actually happens. And predictably, Colt hits a home ru- wait, it’s a foul.

- Miyo hands Colt her “rucky butt.” Okay. Again Colt bats, as now the baseball is beach ball-sized. Uh?! Audience thus distracted, Colt hits his prescribed home run.

And to cap the film off, Miyo uses her ninja skills to thrash a boy with a mullet, because we always have to end on a note of physical violence. The screen even fades away with the boy’s horrified screams – it’s a horror movie ending!

Until Tum Tum appears over the end credits themselves, directly asking me for food! You know, I’m done trying to engage this film.

Sequel devolution is such a common problem, people assume it plagues all sequels. No, just mercenary cash-grabs like this one, which offer up caricatured catalogues of the first film’s greatest weaknesses – and the original 3 Ninjas was pretty derivative anyway. This thing barely resembles a movie, any more than an alien’s sideways assumption of what a movie might be. And in these 90 minutes, there’s a full 25 minutes worth of baseball action – that’s probably more than in an actual baseball game. 3 Ninjas Kick Back is never boring, as mystifying as it is, and would make for a great ironic, substance-fueled debauch. But that’s the sad contemporary fate of these films – they work now only for unintentional reasons.


Related posts:
• No. 1 3 Ninjas (1992)
• No. 3 3 Ninjas Knuckle Up (1995)
• No. 4 3 Ninjas: High Noon at Mega Mountain (1998)