American Ninja, No. 4 - American Ninja 4: The Annihilation (1990)

It’s American Ninja 4: The Annihilation, the final theatrical release for the series, and yet another entry which stars newbie “American Ninja” David Bradley, in the role of Sean Davidson. Returning again is director Cedric Sundstrom. Absent now is writer Gary Conway, meaning The Annihilation has the freedom to be about something other than bio-engineered mutant ninjas. A good thing, because variety is already hard enough to come by in a series about pajama-clad martial artists, third world warlords, and charisma-challenged Caucasian superstars.

It’s been one year since American Ninja 3: Blood Hunt, meaning little shakeup in the Cannon Group’s way of creating films, though the fact remains that the company was on the way out, and The Annihilation is one of their last hurrahs. Perhaps given this air of financial apocalypse, Sundstrom & Co. grew the cojones to be a bit more atypical in their formulaic ninja actioner. Against all odds, Part Four is infinitely superior to Part Three, entirely earning its 3.0 rating on IMDb. It’s weightier, I suppose, certainly in visuals. Budget setbacks again, a shocking boon to an action film, as it demands nothing but location photography, as Sundstrom lacks the funds to create sets – and seeing as Blood Hunt’s interiors looked like something out of the am drams, that’s most welcome. That pastel sheen of eightiesness is gone, too, as are some of the more particularly egregious idiocies.


Plus, ninjas are threatening again! “Again,” did I say? I mean “for the first time in this series,” excepting those of American nationality. There’s nothing more bracing than an opening scene of ninjas triumphing, easily getting the better of SEAL Team Six – excuse me, the Delta Force, out in the deserts seeking America’s greatest Muslim terrorist enemy and – okay, how is it American Ninja 4 is reminding me of recent events?! No matter, these elite U.S. commandos are captured, and lest you think there is actual gravitas to all this, keep in mind ninjas remain (by franchise definition) as unlikely as ever. Though it’s dangnably fun to see ‘em, armed simply with swords, dodging machine gun fire in a way that resembles me on the dance floor.

The Delta Force is now captive of one Scoff Mulgrew (James Booth, and a quick scan of his résumé reveals the mighty flick known as…Rentadick?!). Mulgrew has turned a “whatever nation” into his own murderous fiefdom, and in the interest of Cannon’s foreign relations, this nation is never revealed. (It seems they filmed in South Africa again.) Mulgrew is generically bad, obsessed with killing and power simply to satisfy genre terms. Providing antagonistic motive is his counterpart, Sheik Ali Maksood (Ron Smerczak), who proves just how dedicated Israelis Golan and Globus were to caricaturing the Arabs. If you said “Muslim,” particularly to someone in the Bush compound, they’d picture Maksood, in full turban, sheik-shrieking to no end about “true believers” and “the Great Satan” and “jihad” this and “Allah Allah Allah Allah!” that. It’s as if the generic Middle Easterner villain in the background of so many Cannon efforts was promoted to lead, without a shred of artfulness. I cannot stress fully how ridiculous Maksood is…Mulgrew too, for that matter.


This wicked duo has given a week (and weak) deadline before they arbitrarily execute the commandos. No negotiations or anything; that’s simply how long an action hero needs to resolve the situation. Oh, and M&M also have a suitcase nuclear bomb, with which they inarguably intend to destroy New York City, shortly following this same week. Why doesn’t the UN or some such doesn’t simply bomb their known compound?! It’s ruled out in fear of their mighty nuclear retaliation, except…except they’re gonna bomb New York anyway…oh, and that bomb’s there in the compound now, so…oh never mind, it’s way out of Cannon’s budget.

Nope, this being an American Ninja (or any 1980s action film, despite its 1990 release – so close!), matters fall to a single man. Picture every movie where a beleaguered CIA director barks “Get me _____!” That “_____” this time being [drum roll please] Sean Davidson, CIA. CIA?! Yeah. And a speedy promotion too, considering a year ago Sean was but a civilian “American ninja” battling B-movie druggists. Now he’s “the best of the best”…saddled with a token black operative (Dwayne Alexandre) simply to have someone to exposit towards in the field. No matter the dis-continuity of Sean’s life story, he is a stronger character now, stripped of the faux-Karate Kid nonsense Blood Hunt couldn’t really handle. Besides, a generic leather outfit and gravelly voice, while barely original, do meet the action hero archetype.


Initially, the duo’s adventures in Definitely Not South Africa are pretty generic (I mean, more so than the rest of the film). Because it’s early on, and this film has actual escalation (choke on that, Blood Hunt!), they start out randomly getting into bar fights. This is all in a semi-comical effort to follow a contact to “Sulfur Springs,” an objective with no immediately apparent connection to freeing the hostages. Along the way, they pick up local doctor Sarah (Robin Stille), simply because tokenism demands a female to balance out Sean’s loyal black guy. Though this movie hasn’t even the wherewithal to lump her into a de rigueur romance, of which I am greatly thankful.

Mulgrew remains a presence, hot on the group’s trail, and wantonly executing whichever unlucky locals Sean has previously beaten up. It’s pointless, which is the point – Mulgrew is not a reasonable fellow. …It’s all coming back now…I saw this in my youth! (Well, part of it, at any rate.) Not then understanding ninjas that weren’t in Teenage Mutant form, Cannon-style casual slaughter seemed more curious to me. Kind of weightless and airless even then, for how eager these movies are for their R, but still something which somewhat defines the curious ninja subgenre.

That, and ninjas. Ninjas such as those who suddenly attack Sean in mid-meditation (the gall!), yielding a mostly ho hum fight, nothing we haven’t seen before – crossbows, garrotes, nunchucks (actually, that is a series first), ninja stars (definitely not), one singularly useless pistol. It seems a little more serious than before, maybe just because the soundtrack is laying off of the Casio for once, when…(and now this I did not expect)…

Sean et al are captured! The ninjas win!


Well sure, why shouldn’t they? Especially if we’re to be reminded of our onetime belief that ninjas are the martial end all. And don’t for a moment fool yourself into thinking this is like when James Bond gets captured, only to escape in three minutes. Nope, Sean (et al) are now permanently Mulgrew’s guests, housed in what looks like the producer’s rec room.

This is the midway point, by the way, with The Annihilation cleaved almost perfectly into halves. And now, necessitated like Psycho to switch protagonists in midstream, American Ninja 4 does something else you wouldn’t see coming (unless you read a synopsis, or looked at the cast list in the credits, or glimpsed the poster or the Netflix sleeve)…It reintroduces Michael Dudikoff!


How nice, when a sequel brings back a previously MIA main character, to greater audience appreciation. Dudikoff’s Joe Armstrong is the Coca-Cola to Bradley’s New Coke, even if the two are neck-and-neck in kung fu semi-prowess and non-acting. Dudikoff just feels right, perhaps because the series was initially his. Think to Fast & Furious, for when reinserting Vin Diesel had a similar impact…

It only takes a brief moment for the CIA to coax Joe out of the Peace Corps, where he’s given up violence momentarily much like Stallone in Rambo III. Oh it to Sean’s capture, an ersatz Richard Crenna now – and we’re meant to assume Joe and Sean are good boon friends, despite having never shared screen time, simply because they share a franchise and are both “American ninjas.” (Perhaps a missing Curtis Jackson introduced them following Blood Hunt.)

Joe’s first action upon reaching The Democratic Republic of Wherever is to beat off a dozen ninjas (er, that is, I mean he fights them, not…you know). And while Joe bests them with storied ease, by now we’ve seen ninjas triumph repeatedly, lending them weight. Which assures us that Joe is superior to Sean, something they maybe wouldn’t be able to do with both on screen at once.

Having done one thing Sean couldn’t, Joe then does another and reaches Sulfur Springs.


Here American Ninja 4 chooses a new action subgenre. Counter intuitively enough, by the image above, it’s the Mad Max post-apocalypse we’re now dealing with, even though these people are merely local rebels against the Mulgrew crew. What a curious development this is, possibly the fallout of a prepared but unproduced sci-fi film on Cannon’s part (I’m only guessing here), or possibly Sundstrom merely itched to try some new clichés. And because it’s been nearly two minutes without a fight, Joe briefly thwacks about some big dudes with axes, all the better to convince Dr. Tamba (Ken Gampu) he is just as “American” and “ninja” as he claims.

Brief interlude for Joe to break into Mulgrew’s fort (during a fancy dress gala, for Mulgrew to boast in diplomats’ faces that he’ll soon needlessly explode the entire United States), where Joe steals the plans off Mulgrew’s fort so that he can again, tomorrow, break into Mulgrew’s fort. Huh?! Would that they had a little more budget to simply extend the inevitable climactic assault that’s coming up.


And here it is! With Dr. Tamba briefly channeling/predicting a different Mel Gibson movie (Braveheart) with a “freedom” speech, the Sulfurite post-technological barbarians attack Mulgrew’s fortress – head on. For as much good as Joe’s plans did ‘em. And they handily best assorted ninjas (complete with acrobatic guard tower explosions), the ninjas’ sheen of invincibility now well gone. It doesn’t wholly irk now, since we’ve gone beyond logic, and Beyond Thunderdome.

As meanwhile Joe sneaks in through an old, dried-up dam – a striking location. Inside the aqueduct works…more ninja fights. Notably, Joe catches one ninja’s arrow in his mouth (somehow changing the arrow’s angle as well), then stabs another ninja’s throat out with the same arrow – still in his mouth. All the while a rip-off of Lethal Weapon’s trailer music plays, because here at the desperate end of Cannon (and, not coincidentally, of the ‘80s), you can just steal indiscriminately without fear of repercussion.


The rest goes without saying – Joe rescues everyone, the nuke is disabled anticlimactically, and Joe climbs over a pile of mutilated ninja corpses on his return to the Peace Corps. And ever since first introducing himself to Dr. Tamba, Joe has said at most eight words total. Chat was never Dudikoff’s strong suit, and Joe is more mysterious (and more intriguing) in his willingness to just shut up. Compare him to the now-worthless Sean.

That final walk into the distance marks the last we’ll see of Michael Dudikoff in American Ninja. Actually, it marks the end of what I’ll see of American Ninja as well, for though American Ninja V exists, the “V” is for “video.”

For what it’s worth, David Bradley returns for this final desultory capper. In it, again the American Ninja series bows to the inspiration of The Karate Kid, even featuring a Pat Morita cameo. Bradley’s Sean, randomly yet again, is promoted to the level of sensei, the “last true ninja,” to train 14-year-old Lee Reyes in the ancient ways of “American ninjas.” Cue inspirational training montages, and trade out waxing cars for tarnishing and varnishing a boat. Then multicolored ninjas capture Lee, for some no doubt justifiable reasons. “Ninja fighting ensues” – (direct Wikipedia quote).

This 1993 American Ninja V occurred at the very end of the Cannon Group, released on video alongside final theatrical release Street Knight. Ever since 1990, Cannon was in dire straits, enduring legal suits and countersuits in a tale I do not fully comprehend. Suffice it to say the story includes phrases such as “criminal charges,” “fled to Italy,” and “international extradition,” making it sound just as idiosyncratic as any self-respecting Cannon release. Somehow, all this concerning $1.48 billion, all over a studio that’d been lucky to make under a million dollars per release.

Which marks the end of American Ninja, a series which neither Dudikoff nor Bradley sought to reignite, even while remaining in the sub-Lundgren DTV action miasma of the ‘90s. The Human Shield, Cobra (not the Stallone one), Cyberjack, Soldier Boyz, Strategic Command, Cyborg Cop, Hard Justice, Expect to Die – these are just some of the cinematic marvels the former “American ninjas” touted in years to come. Whatever conclusions to be drawn from that, they’re yours.

American Ninja, No. 4 - American Ninja 4: The Annihilation (1990)

It’s American Ninja 4: The Annihilation, the final theatrical release for the series, and yet another entry which stars newbie “American Ninja” David Bradley, in the role of Sean Davidson. Returning again is director Cedric Sundstrom. Absent now is writer Gary Conway, meaning The Annihilation has the freedom to be about something other than bio-engineered mutant ninjas. A good thing, because variety is already hard enough to come by in a series about pajama-clad martial artists, third world warlords, and charisma-challenged Caucasian superstars.

It’s been one year since American Ninja 3: Blood Hunt, meaning little shakeup in the Cannon Group’s way of creating films, though the fact remains that the company was on the way out, and The Annihilation is one of their last hurrahs. Perhaps given this air of financial apocalypse, Sundstrom & Co. grew the cojones to be a bit more atypical in their formulaic ninja actioner. Against all odds, Part Four is infinitely superior to Part Three, entirely earning its 3.0 rating on IMDb. It’s weightier, I suppose, certainly in visuals. Budget setbacks again, a shocking boon to an action film, as it demands nothing but location photography, as Sundstrom lacks the funds to create sets – and seeing as Blood Hunt’s interiors looked like something out of the am drams, that’s most welcome. That pastel sheen of eightiesness is gone, too, as are some of the more particularly egregious idiocies.


Plus, ninjas are threatening again! “Again,” did I say? I mean “for the first time in this series,” excepting those of American nationality. There’s nothing more bracing than an opening scene of ninjas triumphing, easily getting the better of SEAL Team Six – excuse me, the Delta Force, out in the deserts seeking America’s greatest Muslim terrorist enemy and – okay, how is it American Ninja 4 is reminding me of recent events?! No matter, these elite U.S. commandos are captured, and lest you think there is actual gravitas to all this, keep in mind ninjas remain (by franchise definition) as unlikely as ever. Though it’s dangnably fun to see ‘em, armed simply with swords, dodging machine gun fire in a way that resembles me on the dance floor.

The Delta Force is now captive of one Scoff Mulgrew (James Booth, and a quick scan of his résumé reveals the mighty flick known as…Rentadick?!). Mulgrew has turned a “whatever nation” into his own murderous fiefdom, and in the interest of Cannon’s foreign relations, this nation is never revealed. (It seems they filmed in South Africa again.) Mulgrew is generically bad, obsessed with killing and power simply to satisfy genre terms. Providing antagonistic motive is his counterpart, Sheik Ali Maksood (Ron Smerczak), who proves just how dedicated Israelis Golan and Globus were to caricaturing the Arabs. If you said “Muslim,” particularly to someone in the Bush compound, they’d picture Maksood, in full turban, sheik-shrieking to no end about “true believers” and “the Great Satan” and “jihad” this and “Allah Allah Allah Allah!” that. It’s as if the generic Middle Easterner villain in the background of so many Cannon efforts was promoted to lead, without a shred of artfulness. I cannot stress fully how ridiculous Maksood is…Mulgrew too, for that matter.


This wicked duo has given a week (and weak) deadline before they arbitrarily execute the commandos. No negotiations or anything; that’s simply how long an action hero needs to resolve the situation. Oh, and M&M also have a suitcase nuclear bomb, with which they inarguably intend to destroy New York City, shortly following this same week. Why doesn’t the UN or some such doesn’t simply bomb their known compound?! It’s ruled out in fear of their mighty nuclear retaliation, except…except they’re gonna bomb New York anyway…oh, and that bomb’s there in the compound now, so…oh never mind, it’s way out of Cannon’s budget.

Nope, this being an American Ninja (or any 1980s action film, despite its 1990 release – so close!), matters fall to a single man. Picture every movie where a beleaguered CIA director barks “Get me _____!” That “_____” this time being [drum roll please] Sean Davidson, CIA. CIA?! Yeah. And a speedy promotion too, considering a year ago Sean was but a civilian “American ninja” battling B-movie druggists. Now he’s “the best of the best”…saddled with a token black operative (Dwayne Alexandre) simply to have someone to exposit towards in the field. No matter the dis-continuity of Sean’s life story, he is a stronger character now, stripped of the faux-Karate Kid nonsense Blood Hunt couldn’t really handle. Besides, a generic leather outfit and gravelly voice, while barely original, do meet the action hero archetype.


Initially, the duo’s adventures in Definitely Not South Africa are pretty generic (I mean, more so than the rest of the film). Because it’s early on, and this film has actual escalation (choke on that, Blood Hunt!), they start out randomly getting into bar fights. This is all in a semi-comical effort to follow a contact to “Sulfur Springs,” an objective with no immediately apparent connection to freeing the hostages. Along the way, they pick up local doctor Sarah (Robin Stille), simply because tokenism demands a female to balance out Sean’s loyal black guy. Though this movie hasn’t even the wherewithal to lump her into a de rigueur romance, of which I am greatly thankful.

Mulgrew remains a presence, hot on the group’s trail, and wantonly executing whichever unlucky locals Sean has previously beaten up. It’s pointless, which is the point – Mulgrew is not a reasonable fellow. …It’s all coming back now…I saw this in my youth! (Well, part of it, at any rate.) Not then understanding ninjas that weren’t in Teenage Mutant form, Cannon-style casual slaughter seemed more curious to me. Kind of weightless and airless even then, for how eager these movies are for their R, but still something which somewhat defines the curious ninja subgenre.

That, and ninjas. Ninjas such as those who suddenly attack Sean in mid-meditation (the gall!), yielding a mostly ho hum fight, nothing we haven’t seen before – crossbows, garrotes, nunchucks (actually, that is a series first), ninja stars (definitely not), one singularly useless pistol. It seems a little more serious than before, maybe just because the soundtrack is laying off of the Casio for once, when…(and now this I did not expect)…

Sean et al are captured! The ninjas win!


Well sure, why shouldn’t they? Especially if we’re to be reminded of our onetime belief that ninjas are the martial end all. And don’t for a moment fool yourself into thinking this is like when James Bond gets captured, only to escape in three minutes. Nope, Sean (et al) are now permanently Mulgrew’s guests, housed in what looks like the producer’s rec room.

This is the midway point, by the way, with The Annihilation cleaved almost perfectly into halves. And now, necessitated like Psycho to switch protagonists in midstream, American Ninja 4 does something else you wouldn’t see coming (unless you read a synopsis, or looked at the cast list in the credits, or glimpsed the poster or the Netflix sleeve)…It reintroduces Michael Dudikoff!


How nice, when a sequel brings back a previously MIA main character, to greater audience appreciation. Dudikoff’s Joe Armstrong is the Coca-Cola to Bradley’s New Coke, even if the two are neck-and-neck in kung fu semi-prowess and non-acting. Dudikoff just feels right, perhaps because the series was initially his. Think to Fast & Furious, for when reinserting Vin Diesel had a similar impact…

It only takes a brief moment for the CIA to coax Joe out of the Peace Corps, where he’s given up violence momentarily much like Stallone in Rambo III. Oh it to Sean’s capture, an ersatz Richard Crenna now – and we’re meant to assume Joe and Sean are good boon friends, despite having never shared screen time, simply because they share a franchise and are both “American ninjas.” (Perhaps a missing Curtis Jackson introduced them following Blood Hunt.)

Joe’s first action upon reaching The Democratic Republic of Wherever is to beat off a dozen ninjas (er, that is, I mean he fights them, not…you know). And while Joe bests them with storied ease, by now we’ve seen ninjas triumph repeatedly, lending them weight. Which assures us that Joe is superior to Sean, something they maybe wouldn’t be able to do with both on screen at once.

Having done one thing Sean couldn’t, Joe then does another and reaches Sulfur Springs.


Here American Ninja 4 chooses a new action subgenre. Counter intuitively enough, by the image above, it’s the Mad Max post-apocalypse we’re now dealing with, even though these people are merely local rebels against the Mulgrew crew. What a curious development this is, possibly the fallout of a prepared but unproduced sci-fi film on Cannon’s part (I’m only guessing here), or possibly Sundstrom merely itched to try some new clichés. And because it’s been nearly two minutes without a fight, Joe briefly thwacks about some big dudes with axes, all the better to convince Dr. Tamba (Ken Gampu) he is just as “American” and “ninja” as he claims.

Brief interlude for Joe to break into Mulgrew’s fort (during a fancy dress gala, for Mulgrew to boast in diplomats’ faces that he’ll soon needlessly explode the entire United States), where Joe steals the plans off Mulgrew’s fort so that he can again, tomorrow, break into Mulgrew’s fort. Huh?! Would that they had a little more budget to simply extend the inevitable climactic assault that’s coming up.


And here it is! With Dr. Tamba briefly channeling/predicting a different Mel Gibson movie (Braveheart) with a “freedom” speech, the Sulfurite post-technological barbarians attack Mulgrew’s fortress – head on. For as much good as Joe’s plans did ‘em. And they handily best assorted ninjas (complete with acrobatic guard tower explosions), the ninjas’ sheen of invincibility now well gone. It doesn’t wholly irk now, since we’ve gone beyond logic, and Beyond Thunderdome.

As meanwhile Joe sneaks in through an old, dried-up dam – a striking location. Inside the aqueduct works…more ninja fights. Notably, Joe catches one ninja’s arrow in his mouth (somehow changing the arrow’s angle as well), then stabs another ninja’s throat out with the same arrow – still in his mouth. All the while a rip-off of Lethal Weapon’s trailer music plays, because here at the desperate end of Cannon (and, not coincidentally, of the ‘80s), you can just steal indiscriminately without fear of repercussion.


The rest goes without saying – Joe rescues everyone, the nuke is disabled anticlimactically, and Joe climbs over a pile of mutilated ninja corpses on his return to the Peace Corps. And ever since first introducing himself to Dr. Tamba, Joe has said at most eight words total. Chat was never Dudikoff’s strong suit, and Joe is more mysterious (and more intriguing) in his willingness to just shut up. Compare him to the now-worthless Sean.

That final walk into the distance marks the last we’ll see of Michael Dudikoff in American Ninja. Actually, it marks the end of what I’ll see of American Ninja as well, for though American Ninja V exists, the “V” is for “video.”

For what it’s worth, David Bradley returns for this final desultory capper. In it, again the American Ninja series bows to the inspiration of The Karate Kid, even featuring a Pat Morita cameo. Bradley’s Sean, randomly yet again, is promoted to the level of sensei, the “last true ninja,” to train 14-year-old Lee Reyes in the ancient ways of “American ninjas.” Cue inspirational training montages, and trade out waxing cars for tarnishing and varnishing a boat. Then multicolored ninjas capture Lee, for some no doubt justifiable reasons. “Ninja fighting ensues” – (direct Wikipedia quote).

This 1993 American Ninja V occurred at the very end of the Cannon Group, released on video alongside final theatrical release Street Knight. Ever since 1990, Cannon was in dire straits, enduring legal suits and countersuits in a tale I do not fully comprehend. Suffice it to say the story includes phrases such as “criminal charges,” “fled to Italy,” and “international extradition,” making it sound just as idiosyncratic as any self-respecting Cannon release. Somehow, all this concerning $1.48 billion, all over a studio that’d been lucky to make under a million dollars per release.

Which marks the end of American Ninja, a series which neither Dudikoff nor Bradley sought to reignite, even while remaining in the sub-Lundgren DTV action miasma of the ‘90s. The Human Shield, Cobra (not the Stallone one), Cyberjack, Soldier Boyz, Strategic Command, Cyborg Cop, Hard Justice, Expect to Die – these are just some of the cinematic marvels the former “American ninjas” touted in years to come. Whatever conclusions to be drawn from that, they’re yours.

American Ninja, No. 3 - American Ninja 3: Blood Hunt (1989)

Cannon Films – the personal fiefdom of fabulous Israeli maniacs Menahem Golan and Yoram Globus – thrived as a factory for schlocky, brain dead, uncreditable actioners throughout the 1980s. The Go-Go boys were, in their own particular idiom, a distinctly ‘80s version of the grand Roger Corman tradition, where insanity and frugality are greater cinematic driving forces than artistry. Much like Corman, they even used this crap-made pedestal to distribute high-fallutin’ foreign fare – the Academy Award-winning The Assault in Go-Go’s case, and assorted films of Kurosawa, Bergman, Truffaut and Fellini in Corman’s.

But unlike the immortal Roger Corman, Golan and Globus eventually succumbed to the dreaded temptation to compete with the major studios, to release like-budgeted smash hits to similar success. (This being a studio which considered American Ninja’s $11 million take a runaway triumph.) Thus Cannon started doing the nutty thing, portioning out nearly $20 million each for would-be blockbusters – Lifeforce, Masters of the Universe, Superman IV: The Quest for Peace (to say nothing of a giddily failed attempt at a 1986 Spider-Man adaptation) – all of which promptly failed. Then, despite a buyout by Pathé, Cannon continued from 1989 (until their inevitable 1993 demise) attempting to force trademark Cannon-style mockbusters upon the world.

All this with fewer resources. And without the creative freedom to move beyond their own recent shadow. So when American Ninja 3: Blood Hunt got made – simply because otherwise a bunch of money and a South African director (Cedric Sundstrom) would’ve just lied there – Cannon had no choice but to do exactly as with American Ninja 2: The Confrontation. An odd choice, given that American Ninja 2 didn’t feel the same allegiance towards the first American Ninja. And just how similar are these films? Well…

In American Ninja 2, a Caribbean island is host to a villainous drug warlord whose scheme to genetically engineer super-ninjas is thwarted by a visiting American martial artist.

In American Ninja 3, a Caribbean island is host to a villainous drug warlord whose scheme to genetically engineer super-ninjas is thwarted by a visiting American martial artist.

One can explain away this photocopy-level similarity by a shared writer, Gary Conway (who also, coincidentally, portrayed the wicked Lion in American Ninja 2). Clearly, the man has some very specific fetishes.


For all this tiresome repetition, there is one notable changeup. Series star Michael Dudikoff had dropped out. While a sane film producer would take the retreat of Dudikoff as a vote of franchise-wide no confidence, that’s not the Cannon spirit. Instead they cast David Bradley, of…no prior experience (and mostly just further American Ninjas to follow, and a couple of Cyborg Cops). The man knows martial arts, I suppose (actually, more than Dudikoff, though Bradley remains an untalented cracker), and is equally charisma-free. Oh, and he looks like Steve Oedekerk in Kung Pow! Enter the Fist, which makes it damnably hard to take this karate movie seriously.

Obeying a curious myopia, American Ninja 3 doesn’t see the return of Dudikoff’s Joe Armstrong, recast. Rather, Bradley plays a new “American ninja” (considered such pretty much solely by the opening credits), one Sean Davidson. That necessitates a new logical explanation for a Caucasian with a mastery of ninjutsu. Well, look to 3 Ninjas, it’s the same thing there: An old Japanese dude just teaches a little child, way back in 1980. Toss in a murdered father preceding that – to set up a revenge motive later on, and then do nothing dramatic with it – and presto, instant American ninja! Add time, nine years to take us to “the present day,” and that ten-year-old grows into (estimated) thirty-five-year-old Bradley.

Alrighty. Must I take the effort to re-explain the whole mutant ninja scenario – just make ‘em teenaged, and turtles, and we’d be set! Well, the mutant ninjas’ maker is not the Lion, as before, but now the Cobra (Marjoe Gortner) – “the Cobra” because Cannon movies care not to hide how infinitely The Karate Kid is their inspiration. This Cobra runs a pharmaceutical drug business – and credit the phenomenal ignorance which drives American Ninja (the same brand of ignorance which misinterprets the definition of “ninja”) for thinking drugs is drugs. Vilifying drug smugglers is one thing, but the Cobra (hiss!) is considered eeeeevil for essentially making Advils. Oh, and his manufactured ninja warriors – made from viruses and pseudo-science – themselves boast another profound mistake: that “germ warfare” is not literal warfare, of the sort with soldiers. I genuinely believe Gary Conway doesn’t know this.

Okay, so the Cobra (who is equal parts “G.I. Joe” as well) needs to test out his manufactured supermen – or, when motivations randomly shift, he needs a new subject to, er, subject to his treatment. Either way, the Cobra needs the greatest warrior on God’s great green Earth, and to that end he arranges a martial arts competition/tournament/championship (another pile of words which are interchanged and misapplied) here on the fictional island nation of Port San Luco Triana – read it as Val Verde, basically. Basically, it’s the plot of Enter the Dragon, a great movie, but not one you wanna rip off in that particular way.

And dig the cartoonish sheiks and generalissimos who make up the Cobra’s investors. What’s odd is I doubt this movie means to be ludicrous, but it’s such a hearty combination of cheesy and sincere that it’s hard to determine what tone the filmmakers intended.


So a grown and actively wrinkling Sean Davidson arrives in this island nation, accompanied by the same damn tropical drum soundtrack which permeated American Ninja 2. Here he meets Curtis Jackson (Steve James), the sole returning performer. Had you asked me during American Ninja, 1985 edition, which element would feature in every entry, I wouldn’t’ve pegged the homoerotic non-ninja black guy. I surely wouldn’t’ve.

Teaming with Sean and Curtis Jackson is Dex (Evan K. Klisser), because a strangely persistent habit of the American Ninjas is to have a comic third wheel, one with a libido to make up for a thorough ignorance of the martial arts, an ignorance which doesn’t handicap him one bit when fighting ninjas. But I’m getting ahead of myself. For now, Sean competes in the Cobra’s vile karate tournament, complete with an announcer so asinine, it makes Best in Show’s Fred Willard seem like a Nobel laureate: “Sean is taunting Simpson [another combatant] by standing still!” Riveting!

Sean wins the tournament – that was quick! – and is instantly targeted by the Cobra. The Cobra, for now, wants to square Sean off against his Build-a-Ninja Workshop. It’s not too terribly an unreasonable request, frankly, so why doesn’t the Cobra simply ask Sean to do so? Ninja, please! The Cobra is a villain, and as such it’s his prerogative to do everything villainously. Therefore, he sends one single ninja out to kidnap Sean, never mind if this ninja can do so, it invalidates the Cobra’s theory that Sean is a super warrior. Luckily for him, I suppose, Sean makes ninja mincemeat. And when several dozen more ninjas show, he does likewise to them. It’s getting really hard to credit this series’ ninjas a threat.


The content of ninja fights – which, from now on, I shall mark with individual paragraphs – ceases to provide any novelty, or even Part One’s amusing variety of weaponry. Rather, this initial skirmish is notable simply for its changes of scenery: Fire escape – rooftop – docks – warehouse – underwater. Excepting that last moment (which plays like a retread of Top Secret!, which is a hard thing to take seriously), this is a greatest hits of 1980s action sequence locals. Take it easy, guys, don’t overstretch yourselves at the start.

To my great surprise, this battle informs the plot! How ‘bout that! Sean learns his master is the Cobra’s hostage, only…he isn’t. It was all a disguise, pulled off by loyalty-conflicted ninja henchman Chan Lee (Michele Chan) – this in the pre-“Street Fighter 2” days. Each entry posits at least one wholly unworldly skill for ninjas (yet never makes them a credible threat), and today’s is shapeshifting. Chan Lee can, with the slightest boost from “Mission: Impossible” masks, look like anyone at anytime, just as Joe Armstrong could turn himself invisible just by thinking about it real hard-like.

Speaking of Joe, Curtis Jackson, informed of the latest ninja outbreak, has the entirety of American Ninja 3’s say on Joe: “I left Joe back in the Army.” Heeeeeelpful! As Curtis Jackson also observes “Ninja. Not again.” I hear ya, brother. I truly do. And woe to you that you (and Dex) must accompany Sean on a misguided quest to rescue his master from the Cobra’s garage sale clutches. At least the Cobra is drawing Sean to him, a cleverer gambit to ensnare the unensnarable. Which means we surely won’t have to put up with more contextless ninja fights, except…

Ninja fight!


Meanwhile, back at the Cobra’s labs…eh, nothing of note happens. Nor does it in Sean’s plot, where the time-wasting portion of the movie comes into full play, heroes and villains each simply discussing where they stand, reiterating the same facts. In this downtime, I am afforded the opportunity to comment upon the Cobra’s laboratory, which is – and this is the nicest way of putting it – minimalist. It’s like the set dressing of “Our Town,” a vacant black void with only the barest beakers and chairs to indicate “a lab.” Honestly, “MADtv” could’ve done better! Meanwhile, there’s no indication that it’s supposed to look cheap.

While I’m on the set decoration, there’s also the Cobra’s ninja training arena…which is the same arena as seen in American Ninja 2. Only it’s not supposed to be the same place – this being, all evidence to the contrary, an entirely different Caribbean island (where’s the pirates?!). The set is redressed, which even in-film is ineffective, seeing as the initial tournament was itself held in this arena. Oh, and the rest of the Cobra’s lair? Eh, it’s the same sterile YMCA corridors from 2. This is beyond contempt.


Eventually, all excess running time exhausted, Sean et al (Dex and Curtis Jackson) resolve to simply go into the Cobra’s prominent drug labs, and force wackiness. Getting there takes effort. It’s decided that Sean and Dex will travel to the labs’ adjacency via parasails. Meanwhile, Curtis Jackson shall simply drive in a truck, then take ‘em the rest of the way. Begging the question why they couldn’t simply drive there as a group. Uh…I understand the producers set aside some parasails for a big deal set piece and all, but you need a little more integration into the plot than that. Continuing the sense that this is 3 Ninjas for legal adults (with children’s minds), 3 Ninjas Kick Back does the exact same thing.

Sean then sneaks past ninja patrols, while Dex and Curtis Jackson hang back to be the two most transparently useless movie characters this side of a slasher film. Until the plot demands their involvement in the climax, leaving us with cutaways like the necking couple in Manos. As for Sean…

Ninja fight!

This time Sean is captured – tasered – by the same quantity of ninjas he’s easily bested before. That is so he can become the Cobra’s prisoner, as the Cobra officially switches agendas and injects Sean with Virus Ninja.

Chan Lee too gets a motivation makeover, suddenly switching to Sean’s side because, and I quote, “I thought I was doing the right thing. I did not know that they were evil.” There ya go. Sean is a much more trusting human being than I am, so when Chan Lee asks him where his allies are, he out and tells her. Good thing she is a good guy now.

Then something happens which seemed very random at the time. A white woman asks the Cobra for a job. He accepts her proposal, then sends his right hand man to kill her anyway, presumably for shits and giggles. (Evil is dumb.) A token car chase transpires – for all of fifteen seconds. Oh, and it turns out the escaped white woman was just Chan Lee in disguise, antagonizing the Cobra to no discernable end. Cute.


Action sequence quota temporarily satisfied, Chan Lee seeks out Sean’s associates – still just diddling around. A “ninjette,” Curtis Jackson opines in regard to Chan Lee, demonstrating this series’ opinion of its titular martial art.

The time has come to rescue Sean – a damsel in the way Joe Armstrong never was. To the labs!...No, wait…To the docks! Because – thank you, exposition – Sean, enduring partial ninjafication, is being shipped off to an ersatz Khadafy. They’re repeating action locales now, and what happens at docks in an action film?

Ninja fight!

That over, the group sneaks onto the ship, where –

Ninja fight!

And they rescue Sean, but the group – all four capable martial artists (and Dex) – soon falls victim to a NON-ninja. An old Afrikaner with a gun. No offense against guns, but this guy is a threat only because he is wealthy, one of the Cobra’s chief minions, and therefore should be a greater hurdle than the assorted minions. That’s some naked Authority Equals Ass-Kicking right there.

And it turns out this frail elderly man – General Andreas (Yehuda Efroni – with a name like that, undoubtedly one of Globus’ Jewish buddies) – is the guy who killed Sean’s father. Way back in the opening scene? Oh, right, there was supposed to be a revenge story in here! So Sean slowly roundhouse kicks the gun out of Andreas’ hand (unimpressive), and murders him. As catharses go, I’ve seen TV ads depict the act of towel washing with greater verve. Sundstrom clearly has no control over tone, even when it’s clear this is supposed to be a serious scene of ass-kicking.


Okay, now to the labs – because Sean needs the anti-ninja vaccine. Curious, that a chemical possesses those properties. Chan Lee initially disguises herself as that same suspicious white woman, has a –

Ninja fight!

- and confronts the Cobra in his labs. Where she dies at the hands of another NON-ninja geezer with a gun. Well that was dumb. It behooves me to mention that her white woman persona (actress Adrienne Pierce) appears stilted and self conscious – like a white guy trying to dance. Complete with the vacant facial expression of a cow, which is either Pierce’s attempt to convey “I am a mask,” or that’s just her acting approach…Let’s say the latter.

Then the rest – Sean, Dex, Curtis Jackson – head on in, for a –

Ninja fight!

Actually, this being the climax, there’s a better way of phrasing that…

NINJA FIGHT!


The Cobra is quelled, drenched in a puddle of bright green germs (which somehow fail to turn him into a Troma-esque monster, which might’ve saved this film somewhat). Otherwise, a ninja gets a test tube beaker to the nut sack. Also, Sean overcomes the virus sans vaccine by simple meditation – justified as the fulfillment of obtuse ninja master wisdom he received way back at the start. It’s dumb in action, partly because it makes Sean resemble Lou Ferrigno’s Hulk.

I don’t think American Ninja 3: Blood Hunt requires very much extra consideration. It is cheap, bereft of inspiration, and wholly outdated as the first American Ninja in a post-Die Hard universe. As ever, Curtis Jackson mirrors my own feelings on the matter, preceding the director’s credit by expressing a deep set ennui with all things ninja. How quickly it came to this! Well buck up, Curtis Jackson, you’re nearer the end than the beginning…actually, Curtis Jackson, that’s it for you altogether. This is your last entry!

American Ninja, No. 3 - American Ninja 3: Blood Hunt (1989)

Cannon Films – the personal fiefdom of fabulous Israeli maniacs Menahem Golan and Yoram Globus – thrived as a factory for schlocky, brain dead, uncreditable actioners throughout the 1980s. The Go-Go boys were, in their own particular idiom, a distinctly ‘80s version of the grand Roger Corman tradition, where insanity and frugality are greater cinematic driving forces than artistry. Much like Corman, they even used this crap-made pedestal to distribute high-fallutin’ foreign fare – the Academy Award-winning The Assault in Go-Go’s case, and assorted films of Kurosawa, Bergman, Truffaut and Fellini in Corman’s.

But unlike the immortal Roger Corman, Golan and Globus eventually succumbed to the dreaded temptation to compete with the major studios, to release like-budgeted smash hits to similar success. (This being a studio which considered American Ninja’s $11 million take a runaway triumph.) Thus Cannon started doing the nutty thing, portioning out nearly $20 million each for would-be blockbusters – Lifeforce, Masters of the Universe, Superman IV: The Quest for Peace (to say nothing of a giddily failed attempt at a 1986 Spider-Man adaptation) – all of which promptly failed. Then, despite a buyout by Pathé, Cannon continued from 1989 (until their inevitable 1993 demise) attempting to force trademark Cannon-style mockbusters upon the world.

All this with fewer resources. And without the creative freedom to move beyond their own recent shadow. So when American Ninja 3: Blood Hunt got made – simply because otherwise a bunch of money and a South African director (Cedric Sundstrom) would’ve just lied there – Cannon had no choice but to do exactly as with American Ninja 2: The Confrontation. An odd choice, given that American Ninja 2 didn’t feel the same allegiance towards the first American Ninja. And just how similar are these films? Well…

In American Ninja 2, a Caribbean island is host to a villainous drug warlord whose scheme to genetically engineer super-ninjas is thwarted by a visiting American martial artist.

In American Ninja 3, a Caribbean island is host to a villainous drug warlord whose scheme to genetically engineer super-ninjas is thwarted by a visiting American martial artist.

One can explain away this photocopy-level similarity by a shared writer, Gary Conway (who also, coincidentally, portrayed the wicked Lion in American Ninja 2). Clearly, the man has some very specific fetishes.


For all this tiresome repetition, there is one notable changeup. Series star Michael Dudikoff had dropped out. While a sane film producer would take the retreat of Dudikoff as a vote of franchise-wide no confidence, that’s not the Cannon spirit. Instead they cast David Bradley, of…no prior experience (and mostly just further American Ninjas to follow, and a couple of Cyborg Cops). The man knows martial arts, I suppose (actually, more than Dudikoff, though Bradley remains an untalented cracker), and is equally charisma-free. Oh, and he looks like Steve Oedekerk in Kung Pow! Enter the Fist, which makes it damnably hard to take this karate movie seriously.

Obeying a curious myopia, American Ninja 3 doesn’t see the return of Dudikoff’s Joe Armstrong, recast. Rather, Bradley plays a new “American ninja” (considered such pretty much solely by the opening credits), one Sean Davidson. That necessitates a new logical explanation for a Caucasian with a mastery of ninjutsu. Well, look to 3 Ninjas, it’s the same thing there: An old Japanese dude just teaches a little child, way back in 1980. Toss in a murdered father preceding that – to set up a revenge motive later on, and then do nothing dramatic with it – and presto, instant American ninja! Add time, nine years to take us to “the present day,” and that ten-year-old grows into (estimated) thirty-five-year-old Bradley.

Alrighty. Must I take the effort to re-explain the whole mutant ninja scenario – just make ‘em teenaged, and turtles, and we’d be set! Well, the mutant ninjas’ maker is not the Lion, as before, but now the Cobra (Marjoe Gortner) – “the Cobra” because Cannon movies care not to hide how infinitely The Karate Kid is their inspiration. This Cobra runs a pharmaceutical drug business – and credit the phenomenal ignorance which drives American Ninja (the same brand of ignorance which misinterprets the definition of “ninja”) for thinking drugs is drugs. Vilifying drug smugglers is one thing, but the Cobra (hiss!) is considered eeeeevil for essentially making Advils. Oh, and his manufactured ninja warriors – made from viruses and pseudo-science – themselves boast another profound mistake: that “germ warfare” is not literal warfare, of the sort with soldiers. I genuinely believe Gary Conway doesn’t know this.

Okay, so the Cobra (who is equal parts “G.I. Joe” as well) needs to test out his manufactured supermen – or, when motivations randomly shift, he needs a new subject to, er, subject to his treatment. Either way, the Cobra needs the greatest warrior on God’s great green Earth, and to that end he arranges a martial arts competition/tournament/championship (another pile of words which are interchanged and misapplied) here on the fictional island nation of Port San Luco Triana – read it as Val Verde, basically. Basically, it’s the plot of Enter the Dragon, a great movie, but not one you wanna rip off in that particular way.

And dig the cartoonish sheiks and generalissimos who make up the Cobra’s investors. What’s odd is I doubt this movie means to be ludicrous, but it’s such a hearty combination of cheesy and sincere that it’s hard to determine what tone the filmmakers intended.


So a grown and actively wrinkling Sean Davidson arrives in this island nation, accompanied by the same damn tropical drum soundtrack which permeated American Ninja 2. Here he meets Curtis Jackson (Steve James), the sole returning performer. Had you asked me during American Ninja, 1985 edition, which element would feature in every entry, I wouldn’t’ve pegged the homoerotic non-ninja black guy. I surely wouldn’t’ve.

Teaming with Sean and Curtis Jackson is Dex (Evan K. Klisser), because a strangely persistent habit of the American Ninjas is to have a comic third wheel, one with a libido to make up for a thorough ignorance of the martial arts, an ignorance which doesn’t handicap him one bit when fighting ninjas. But I’m getting ahead of myself. For now, Sean competes in the Cobra’s vile karate tournament, complete with an announcer so asinine, it makes Best in Show’s Fred Willard seem like a Nobel laureate: “Sean is taunting Simpson [another combatant] by standing still!” Riveting!

Sean wins the tournament – that was quick! – and is instantly targeted by the Cobra. The Cobra, for now, wants to square Sean off against his Build-a-Ninja Workshop. It’s not too terribly an unreasonable request, frankly, so why doesn’t the Cobra simply ask Sean to do so? Ninja, please! The Cobra is a villain, and as such it’s his prerogative to do everything villainously. Therefore, he sends one single ninja out to kidnap Sean, never mind if this ninja can do so, it invalidates the Cobra’s theory that Sean is a super warrior. Luckily for him, I suppose, Sean makes ninja mincemeat. And when several dozen more ninjas show, he does likewise to them. It’s getting really hard to credit this series’ ninjas a threat.


The content of ninja fights – which, from now on, I shall mark with individual paragraphs – ceases to provide any novelty, or even Part One’s amusing variety of weaponry. Rather, this initial skirmish is notable simply for its changes of scenery: Fire escape – rooftop – docks – warehouse – underwater. Excepting that last moment (which plays like a retread of Top Secret!, which is a hard thing to take seriously), this is a greatest hits of 1980s action sequence locals. Take it easy, guys, don’t overstretch yourselves at the start.

To my great surprise, this battle informs the plot! How ‘bout that! Sean learns his master is the Cobra’s hostage, only…he isn’t. It was all a disguise, pulled off by loyalty-conflicted ninja henchman Chan Lee (Michele Chan) – this in the pre-“Street Fighter 2” days. Each entry posits at least one wholly unworldly skill for ninjas (yet never makes them a credible threat), and today’s is shapeshifting. Chan Lee can, with the slightest boost from “Mission: Impossible” masks, look like anyone at anytime, just as Joe Armstrong could turn himself invisible just by thinking about it real hard-like.

Speaking of Joe, Curtis Jackson, informed of the latest ninja outbreak, has the entirety of American Ninja 3’s say on Joe: “I left Joe back in the Army.” Heeeeeelpful! As Curtis Jackson also observes “Ninja. Not again.” I hear ya, brother. I truly do. And woe to you that you (and Dex) must accompany Sean on a misguided quest to rescue his master from the Cobra’s garage sale clutches. At least the Cobra is drawing Sean to him, a cleverer gambit to ensnare the unensnarable. Which means we surely won’t have to put up with more contextless ninja fights, except…

Ninja fight!


Meanwhile, back at the Cobra’s labs…eh, nothing of note happens. Nor does it in Sean’s plot, where the time-wasting portion of the movie comes into full play, heroes and villains each simply discussing where they stand, reiterating the same facts. In this downtime, I am afforded the opportunity to comment upon the Cobra’s laboratory, which is – and this is the nicest way of putting it – minimalist. It’s like the set dressing of “Our Town,” a vacant black void with only the barest beakers and chairs to indicate “a lab.” Honestly, “MADtv” could’ve done better! Meanwhile, there’s no indication that it’s supposed to look cheap.

While I’m on the set decoration, there’s also the Cobra’s ninja training arena…which is the same arena as seen in American Ninja 2. Only it’s not supposed to be the same place – this being, all evidence to the contrary, an entirely different Caribbean island (where’s the pirates?!). The set is redressed, which even in-film is ineffective, seeing as the initial tournament was itself held in this arena. Oh, and the rest of the Cobra’s lair? Eh, it’s the same sterile YMCA corridors from 2. This is beyond contempt.


Eventually, all excess running time exhausted, Sean et al (Dex and Curtis Jackson) resolve to simply go into the Cobra’s prominent drug labs, and force wackiness. Getting there takes effort. It’s decided that Sean and Dex will travel to the labs’ adjacency via parasails. Meanwhile, Curtis Jackson shall simply drive in a truck, then take ‘em the rest of the way. Begging the question why they couldn’t simply drive there as a group. Uh…I understand the producers set aside some parasails for a big deal set piece and all, but you need a little more integration into the plot than that. Continuing the sense that this is 3 Ninjas for legal adults (with children’s minds), 3 Ninjas Kick Back does the exact same thing.

Sean then sneaks past ninja patrols, while Dex and Curtis Jackson hang back to be the two most transparently useless movie characters this side of a slasher film. Until the plot demands their involvement in the climax, leaving us with cutaways like the necking couple in Manos. As for Sean…

Ninja fight!

This time Sean is captured – tasered – by the same quantity of ninjas he’s easily bested before. That is so he can become the Cobra’s prisoner, as the Cobra officially switches agendas and injects Sean with Virus Ninja.

Chan Lee too gets a motivation makeover, suddenly switching to Sean’s side because, and I quote, “I thought I was doing the right thing. I did not know that they were evil.” There ya go. Sean is a much more trusting human being than I am, so when Chan Lee asks him where his allies are, he out and tells her. Good thing she is a good guy now.

Then something happens which seemed very random at the time. A white woman asks the Cobra for a job. He accepts her proposal, then sends his right hand man to kill her anyway, presumably for shits and giggles. (Evil is dumb.) A token car chase transpires – for all of fifteen seconds. Oh, and it turns out the escaped white woman was just Chan Lee in disguise, antagonizing the Cobra to no discernable end. Cute.


Action sequence quota temporarily satisfied, Chan Lee seeks out Sean’s associates – still just diddling around. A “ninjette,” Curtis Jackson opines in regard to Chan Lee, demonstrating this series’ opinion of its titular martial art.

The time has come to rescue Sean – a damsel in the way Joe Armstrong never was. To the labs!...No, wait…To the docks! Because – thank you, exposition – Sean, enduring partial ninjafication, is being shipped off to an ersatz Khadafy. They’re repeating action locales now, and what happens at docks in an action film?

Ninja fight!

That over, the group sneaks onto the ship, where –

Ninja fight!

And they rescue Sean, but the group – all four capable martial artists (and Dex) – soon falls victim to a NON-ninja. An old Afrikaner with a gun. No offense against guns, but this guy is a threat only because he is wealthy, one of the Cobra’s chief minions, and therefore should be a greater hurdle than the assorted minions. That’s some naked Authority Equals Ass-Kicking right there.

And it turns out this frail elderly man – General Andreas (Yehuda Efroni – with a name like that, undoubtedly one of Globus’ Jewish buddies) – is the guy who killed Sean’s father. Way back in the opening scene? Oh, right, there was supposed to be a revenge story in here! So Sean slowly roundhouse kicks the gun out of Andreas’ hand (unimpressive), and murders him. As catharses go, I’ve seen TV ads depict the act of towel washing with greater verve. Sundstrom clearly has no control over tone, even when it’s clear this is supposed to be a serious scene of ass-kicking.


Okay, now to the labs – because Sean needs the anti-ninja vaccine. Curious, that a chemical possesses those properties. Chan Lee initially disguises herself as that same suspicious white woman, has a –

Ninja fight!

- and confronts the Cobra in his labs. Where she dies at the hands of another NON-ninja geezer with a gun. Well that was dumb. It behooves me to mention that her white woman persona (actress Adrienne Pierce) appears stilted and self conscious – like a white guy trying to dance. Complete with the vacant facial expression of a cow, which is either Pierce’s attempt to convey “I am a mask,” or that’s just her acting approach…Let’s say the latter.

Then the rest – Sean, Dex, Curtis Jackson – head on in, for a –

Ninja fight!

Actually, this being the climax, there’s a better way of phrasing that…

NINJA FIGHT!


The Cobra is quelled, drenched in a puddle of bright green germs (which somehow fail to turn him into a Troma-esque monster, which might’ve saved this film somewhat). Otherwise, a ninja gets a test tube beaker to the nut sack. Also, Sean overcomes the virus sans vaccine by simple meditation – justified as the fulfillment of obtuse ninja master wisdom he received way back at the start. It’s dumb in action, partly because it makes Sean resemble Lou Ferrigno’s Hulk.

I don’t think American Ninja 3: Blood Hunt requires very much extra consideration. It is cheap, bereft of inspiration, and wholly outdated as the first American Ninja in a post-Die Hard universe. As ever, Curtis Jackson mirrors my own feelings on the matter, preceding the director’s credit by expressing a deep set ennui with all things ninja. How quickly it came to this! Well buck up, Curtis Jackson, you’re nearer the end than the beginning…actually, Curtis Jackson, that’s it for you altogether. This is your last entry!

American Ninja, No. 2 - American Ninja 2: The Confrontation (1987)

I first watched American Ninja 2: The Confrontation over a week ago, in a helpless fit of advance juvenile ninja enthusiasm…and now I cannot bring myself to say anything about it offhand.

Needless, as a sequel in the great Golan and Globus superstar fun block party enterprise, American Ninja 2 doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with American Ninja. Oh, it does reunite Michael Dudikoff as Sgt. (née Pvt.) Joe Armstrong, and Steve James as Sgt. Curtis Jackson. And it’s still helmed by the first’s Firstenberg – though his career suggests he was gonna do a chintzy, ill-informed ninja movie one way or another. And by the Go-Go habit of amassing like-mindless reject ‘80s action scripts, The Confrontation was gonna get made one way or another. It just so happens that American Ninja was successful, by Go-Go standards ($11 million 1985 dollars), so the leads’ names are changed for efficient sequelization. Because all action heroes are interchangeable anyway. Still, makes it seem a non-cannon Cannon sequel.

American Ninja 2 doesn’t demand great investigation. Therefore, in my bizarre ninjaed-out funk, I’ll do the unthinkable…watch it again, and simply relate ninja antics as I find them – with a wise knowledge of where The Confrontation is headed (likely towards a confrontation)…


First, our setting: The Bahamas. I’ll burst your bubble right now and say ninjas never fight pirates. Instead we get totally tubular, bodacious ‘80s imagery, to the sort of music I imagine a vintage Nintendo Power would feature, were it a movie. It’s taking me a while to type this, because there’s a breadcrumb or something lodged under my “E” key and – aaarghh! Here’s what cleaning it out results in: wwwwwwwwwww3e3eawwwwwwwww3wweee4ee4ee Curses!

In all that, we’ve totally passed over the first fight (of dozens upon dozens), three beach bum Marines accosted randomly in a bar, as happens in action movies. And NINJAS haul them off!

Army grunts Joe Armstrong and Curtis Jackson arrive – I pause to nurse my aching thumb from smacking that “E” so hard – here to investigate routine kidnappings-via-ninja. Ignoring dumbass plot, for now it’s more eXXXtreme island culture – complete with anonymous bikini babes, which almost makes up for the latent homoeroticism between Joe and Curtis Jackson. Because mind you these are the only returning characters – Joe’s oh so deep romantic relationship with Patricia didn’t go anywhere. Makes that former time-wasting seem so essential!

Okay, in my habitual detours (and pauses to scratch myself), I’ve passed over exposition time with Captain “Wild Bill” Woodward (Jeff “Weston” Celentano), who requested Joe and Curtis Jackson help with his ninja infestation. Naturally, despite this request, Bill is instantly hostile, the usual “angry chief” type. But in dwelling upon “plot,” I ignore Bill’s appearance: Spiked blond hair, a bristled mustache, a sleeveless Hawaiian shirt over a neon lime green tank top with pink board shorts. Yes, there is something slightly fruity about this movie.

Speaking of: Assorted Marines take Joe and Curtis Jackson out for water skiing – and no icky girls allowed! Passing over plot complications which go nowhere, the boat “breaks,” stranding Joe and Curtis Jackson upon a rock- and ninja-strewn beach. Prompting Curtis Jackson to instantly strip off all his clothing, save for a single ill-fitting groin-cloth. Joe, meanwhile, is in a wetsuit, which is far more tasteful. And here indeed come NINJAS! Whoo!


Man, I’m hungry…

Stealth doesn’t quite work in these outfits, but who cares? Joe fights – er, if that six ninjas? Oh hey, the ninjas just made a human ladder to climb up a 20 degree incline – seems pointless. And now they’re choking Joe with a rope, one ninja’s face in his groin – yes, homoeroticism. Faster now – Spears. Swords. Arrows. Joe just tossed a stick into that dude’s nut sack!

Enter Curtis Jackson, sensing ninja-y shenanigans are afoot. Curtis Jackson uses a hook stick (?) to battle a ninja, with great ease. Despite Curtis Jackson’s complete lack of martial arts training (though he does possess one mean Jim Kelly grunt), he is superior to ninjas by dint of his co-lead status. Promotion by sequel. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaprom – don’t know what caused that. (My keyboard has problems and – fighting with nets! – the cursor is even randomly bar dudes pointlessly tough switching paragraphs without warning.)

Action scene then ends, as money and logic run out. Bill: “Ninja? What the hell are ninja?” It’s that part of the movie. Bill chews out Joe and Curtis Jackson (not in that way) about having battled ninjas. Why? Because. Also, “Ninjas my ass!”

A – pause to think of the best word – a traitorous pro-ninja Marine fields an ancient ninja message (via pay phone). His wise ninja masters demand that he kill Joe (and possibly Curtis Jackson, if he’s not too busy). Sure, why not.

The Blind Beggar bar, setting of ninja-by-way-of-Marine ambush. I can’t follow why, when dozens of ninjas failed to do Joe in, they’re sending in the local barflies, the randomly aggressive Australians (in the Bahamas?). Joe fights them, does some Van Damme-esque hot shit flips, and note that all minions pose the same threat – that is, none – be they ninjas or beach bums or (to anticipate ahead) freaking bio-engineered mutants.


Joe meets this Marine (Taylor) in a room. And here come…the same toughs Joe just defeated. To fight again. So they do. It’s kind of repetitive. What does surprise is that Taylor randomly gets a ten-foot-long ninja spear through the chest – and all this just after we learn “the Lion” (a drug smuggling mad scientist trillionaire!) has Taylor’s wife hostage. Oh well, I guess that whole wife thing was a bust after all, and Taylor’s potential plot-complicating double motivations are dead along with him.

“Action” sequence over, cue Bill. “This is really beginning to get on my tits!” Though the villain is known – the Lion, on Blackbeard Island (no pirates, somehow!) – our heroes cannot just go out there and end this movie. Again, just because. Man, this movie uses the same reasoning my parents once did!

Rather, what’s a good Police Academy-style awkward setup? How ‘bout, “There is a fancy dress soiree, and you’re demanded to hobnob with the snobby bluebloods and not cause a ruckus.” So glad this is how they’re occupying Joe and Curtis Jackson, because we wouldn’t want a ninja-filled ninja movie on our hands. Nope, we want to see Curtis Jackson flirt, to assure us Curtis Jackson is totally gay for women, and not for Joe. As, of course, Joe cockblocks Curtis Jackson to point out the Lion (Gary Conway, lookin’ like a villain outa Lethal Weapon 2, complete with Donald Trump toupee…oh, and he’s also the screenwriter, which just blows my mind away).

Oh God, this is the plot happy section, so enter Alicia Sanborn (Michelle Botes), Joe’s eventual “totally not gay for Curtis Jackson” love interest. She hollers randomly about island ninja kings and whatever other verbal diarrhea, and is then kidnapped just as randomly. (Not by ninjas – still pretty light on the ground, they are.)

What I enjoy about this movie (intermittently) is its lack of discipline. It aims to be a perfectly mainstream bit of normality, but it hasn’t the craft. This means that, without even trying to be weird, events are wont to turn wonky at a moment’s notice (and you’ve no idea where this thing is headed). Picture an old “G.I. Joe” cartoon, seen now through an adult prism, then made to awkwardly fit into an R-rated framework – simultaneously totally inappropriate for children, but altogether too infantile for adults. And in making this diatribe, I have totally disregarded the next interchangeable bar fight between Joe and those same Aussies, no greater a threat than before. Especially with Curtis Jackson in the mix. I suspect massive amounts of cocaine were responsible for this movie at some stage.

As a punch line to whatever all just happened, our post-fight heroes return to the hoi polloi party, to provoke monocle-droppings, and instigate another yelling fit from Bill.

Keep in mind there was no functional outcome to that last big fight – Alicia was not rescued, though she did somehow escape villainous clutches anyway. So, aided by Mr. Plot (a boy named Toto), Joe finds her in the same one block of beach town as thrice before, and…ninjas attack! See, the undisciplined zaniness that is American Ninja 2?


Joe defeats ninjas – with his cock (housed behind tight jeans), and I am not making this up. Then…ninja star. Dart. Random flaming oil drum death. Fruit cart bashed. Ninja wedgie!

Ho-John – sorry, Toto – arrives in a junker truck, despite how successfully Joe’s been de-ninjafying this alleyway so far. This is for the necessary automotive sequence, for those viewers who need a bit more hardware in their action cinema. And amidst “character” “dialogue,” a ninja leaps into the bed of this speeding truck with a grappling hook and battles Joe mid-chase (though there’s no evident reason why he continues to speed around). That same sub-Day of the Dead Casio soundtrack persists! Meanwhile, assorted innocent civilian motorists die violently, which seemed totally necessary. Then, ninja on the hood (!), there is only one way this scene can end…


Okay, are we done wasting time? Can Joe (and Alicia) finally go over to Blackbeard Island now?

Eh, after a nighttime “getting to know you” romanticalized interlude first. At least they don’t endure another tongue lashing (heh!) from Bill this time. I’m still hungry…

Back to the garden party (which is still somehow going on), to the same exact shot of the Lion et al just standing around. Was it necessary that I point this out?

Alicia’s exposition: Her father, a brilliant genetic scientist, is the Lion’s prisoner upon Blackbeard Island. “Dad ended up producing these attacking monster…these ninjas.” Oh yes, yes, YES, genetically-engineered super-ninjas, made from kidnapped Marines! Bless the ‘80s, when an idea like this wouldn’t seem bugnuts insane! Of course, “ninja” is something that can be reduced to a basic DNA level, so all this makes perfect sense.


The mutated ultra-ninja cat now out of the bag, we join the Lion in his chintzy lair (looking like something not even Cobra Kai would be caught dead in), to monologue about “the super ninja, the ultimate fighting machine. Strong! OBEDIENT! Heartless!” It’s time for a demonstration of super-ultra-mega-lightning ninjas, who visually look no different than all ninjas (because it’s likely the same dozen stuntmen), only…there’s an occasional orange pajama to break up the drab black. Needless to say, mutant ninjas don’t impress much in action, despite their rich intellectual promise.

(Meanwhile, Joe sneaks onto the compound. Hot Shots: Part Deux features the exact same sequence, basically.)

Ninja stars. Blow darts (wildly off target, mind you). Arrows caught in midair. The Lion’s chief ninja henchman (a Caucasian, naturally) battles the scads of just-born mutants. He kills damned near well all of them, which doesn’t do much for our ability to take these mutant ninjas seriously. It’s violent enough, it’d be disturbing with better gore, in a Kill Bill, Vol. 1 sorta way. I’m hungry.


Nonetheless, the Lion’s investors (cartoonish Libyan dictator types, mostly) are impressed anyway. And – scene!

Joe and Alicia disguise themselves in black ninja costumes (another reason why having an army of dudes in ostentatious pajamas isn’t a wise idea), to sneak into the crowd of investors currently learning about the scientific process of constructing ninjas in a test tube. (I never thought I’d get to write that particular run-on sentence.) Let’s allow Alicia’s father, Professor Sanborn:

“Micro-injecting DNA hereditary information into cell. By this process we can control the building blocks of life. We can make a human being anything we want it to be.”

Furthermore, “blah blah blah blah blah.”

All this while the cast strolls past pink, nude Marines in vats, ala Austin Powers, in the beninjafication process. Even from where it started, at some point this movie found a line we never realized existed, and crossed it. Then went another hundred miles. We’re beyond the looking glass here. Hilariously, all this seems to have been filmed at the local YMCA and – Joe’s fighting ninjas in a stairwell! Okay, he’s done.

“The Lion is shipping five billion dollars of pure heroin to the United States tomorrow. If that shipment gets through, nothing will ever stop him.”

Wait, what the fuck?! There was honestly no former hint about this development, and really, five billion?! And speaking of things that just happen with no warning, Joe starts flashing back to his two-minute meeting with his landscaper master in Part One (complete with flashbacks-within-flashbacks). With the slightest setup earlier in The Confrontation (where characters are but bipedal props), we might’ve had some warning for what comes next…Joe suddenly concentrates in the stairwell SO HARD he turns invisible – like that! (But not invisible to us, because Cannon cannot afford that.)


Okay, the pieces are in place for a lunatic climax – Curtis Jackson has even convinced the Marines to storm Blackbeard Island. Joe heads to the Lion’s ninja-killing chamber. He fights mutant ninjas – with the same ease as ever. As do those recently-freed kidnapped Marines, who weren’t made into mutant ninjas (so…who was?). Whatever. More swordplay, none of it differentiated (even in setting, combatants, etc.). Though Joe’s natural advantage – being an American – is no longer a factor, as mind you in this movie all the ninjas are Americans.

Curtis Jackson’s pyrotechnics go off outside, Cannon running through a #58-C battle sequence (before the stunt crew goes off to do the same thing for, presumably, Masters of the Universe). Anything counting as plot strands start to get resolved. That includes the ninja laboratory, where Sanborn kills both himself and the Lion – never mind the whole point of this incursion was to rescue Sanborn, if it results in another explosion, it’s “good.”

Curtis Jackson fights with battle machetes. Shirtless, he murders ninjas, while going “Oooyyy!” As Joe does likewise, with a sword, to the lead henchman – and despite this henchman’s Caucasian ethnicity, he’s named Tojo, which is so many parts unoriginal and racist, it’s unfathomable. That was all a little anticlimactic, but mostly because little could live up to the former revelations – mutant ninja mutant ninja mutant ninja mutant ninja!!!

Then a beach party epilogue assures us, via farewells, that this film shall have NO bearing on the greater franchise as a whole…not that American Ninja had anything like an arc to contend with in the first place.

This conclusion has the air of further adventures for Joe and Curtis Jackson. That’s not entirely true – though it’s too involved to get into now. It is Sam Firstenberg’s last time out, however. By 1987, Cannon Films was starting to come off of its wonderful heroin high which created hundreds of wonky action spectacles in a few short years. American Ninja, the series, has peaked (actually, it did in Part One, but don’t tell them that), as the theatrical market has moved beyond infantile ultra-violence with false promises of grandeur. For Cannon, financial hardships would limit their output to come. For Firstenberg, his subsequent résumé reads like a shortlist of Cannon’s future: Delta Force 3: The Killing Game, American Samurai, Cyborg Cop, Cyborg Cop II, and Operation Delta Force. (What, no Kickpuncher?) No American Ninja 3 in there either, sadly (?), as it’s time for someone new to don the pajamas.