Karate Kid: Legends

Director: Jonathan Entwistle
Starring: Jackie Chan, Ralph Macchio, Ben Wang, Joshua Jackson, Sadie Stanley, Ming Na-Wen, Aramis Knight, Wyatt Oleff, Shaunette Renée Wilson, Tim Rozon, Oscar Ge
Running Time: 94 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ (out of ★★★★)  

Coming off the recent conclusion of Netflix's enormously successful Cobra Kai, you'd see why greenlighting a new Karate Kid spin-off feature would be too great a temptation to resist, enabling the filmmakers to ride that series' coattails while laying the groundwork for what's next in the Miyagi-Verse. Except the challenge facing Karate Kid: Legends isn't just the unenviable task of following a franchise defining show, but the lingering nostalgia of an original trilogy that hangs over its head. 

After trailers and commercials heavily hinted at an effort more closely resembling 2010's reviled remake starring Jaden Smith and Jackie Chan (who returns here), we knew this wouldn't be easy. That's why director Jonathan Entwistle deserves a lot of credit for delivering an effective underdog story that holds its own, standing independently from what's preceded it. Of course, that doesn't mean it isn't still trying to fit into the overall mythology and serve a few masters at once, namely Mr. Myagi. Or at least his teachings, which continues to provide the foundation on which this entire saga is built. 

It's 1985 when Mr. Myagi explains the connection between his family and the Hans to young pupil Daniel LaRusso before we flash to present day and meet teenager Li Fong (Ben Wang). While studying kung fu in Beijing under the tutelage of his great uncle and wuguan master Mr. Han (Chan), Li's physician mother (Ming-Na Wen) reveals they're moving to New York City where she's accepted a new job. Before leaving, she reiterates her objections to Li practicing martial arts, a decision stemming from the tragic murder of his older brother Bo (Oscar Ge) following a tournament.

Upon arriving in the city, Li struggles to adjust at school before meeting classmate Mia Lipani (Sadie Stanley), the daughter of Victor (Joshua Jackson), a former boxing champion who owns the local pizzeria. Unfortunately, he also owes money to loan shark O' Shea (Tim Rozon), who runs the Demolition Dojo where Mia's ex-boyfriend and defending Five Boroughs karate champion Conor Day (Aramis Knight) trains. None too happy about Mia's new relationship, Conor targets Li, prompting the teen to break the promise to his mom and enter the tournament. But he'll need help from Han, who recruits a reluctant Daniel (Macchio) to teach the boy karate in only a week.

It comes as a relief that Ron Lieber's script doesn't exactly repeat the formula of what came before, or at least when it does, takes enough narrative detours to keep it fresh. Rather than depicting Li as a weakling being shoved into lockers or getting his head flushed down the toilet, he's an experienced fighter more than capable of defending himself. This isn't just a welcome show of restraint, but a display of trust that Wang's likability will win us over, which it almost immediately does. The real issue revolves around him facing a bigger, stronger and more experienced opponent he'll need additional training to defeat. 

Li's mom isn't portrayed as some nagging shrew, but a strict, loving parent whose reasons for forbidding her son to fight are justified based on what they've endured. It's apparent Li's own guilt and sadness over his brother's death fuels that urge to compete, even as memories of it frequently freeze him with fear at the worst possible moments. And while Li's and Mia's burgeoning romance is sweet and well handled with Sadie Stanley lighting up the screen, it's actually the bond he forms with her dad Victor that steals the movie. 

The dynamic between Li and Victor recalls that of Johnny and Miguel in Cobra Kai, only now with the teen in a mentor role as he trains washed up boxer Victor for a return to the ring to save his pizzeria. And Jackson's terrific as this somewhat cocky, overprotective dad in way over his head, prepared to put it all on the line for his daughter and business. There's definitely a lot of Johnny in Victor, with the chief difference being that he's a bit more willing to admit fault and accept help, however it comes.  

When the story takes a turn, Li prepares for his own battle, as two senseis with opposing methods have to co-exist if he's to have any chance against the ruthless Conor, who Aramis Knight does almost too good a job playing. Channeling a young Terry Silver, he comes across as such a psycho that Sadie brushing off her relationship with him as a minor, immature mistake is a bit of a head scratcher. Either way, this gets right what the 2010 remake didn't in making the characters an appropriate age for the story being told and transporting the action to New York, regardless of the fact it clearly wasn't shot there.  

Though Macchio and Chan's presence is welcome, there's a slight drop-off in quality when they enter the mix. But most of that can be attributed to an onslaught of musically backed training montages, comedic bickering and some frenetic editing choices from Entwistle. There are also distracting graphics that appear over the action during the somewhat rushed Five Boroughs tourney. Thankfully, that's discarded before an exciting, well shot final fight and a clever post-credits scene no fan will object to. 

While the Myagi-inspired concept of "two branches, one tree" lays at the heart of this installment, Legends works better when focusing on what's new rather than the franchise's mandated iconography. This could be why the first half plays better, immediately quelling fears it would clumsily retrace the blueprint of previous films. Instead, it's a solid entry that subverts expectations by proving legacy characters don't have to carry every story on their own. 

It

Director: Andy Muschietti
Starring: Jaeden Lieberher, Bill Skarsgård, Jeremy Ray Taylor, Sophia Lillis, Finn Wolfhard, Wyatt Oleff, Chosen Jacobs, Jack Dylan Grazer, Nicholas Hamilton, Jackson Robert Scott
Running Time: 135 min.
Rating: R

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

The experience you had watching a movie can often far surpass the movie itself, frequently causing confusion between the two. Strangely, such an experience accompanied my early 90's viewing of the miniseries adaptation of Stephen King's It. And while I exactly remember the when, why and where, it's more difficult to recall a single thing about the actual movie other than it being overlong and mostly terrible, as the King TV adaptations tended to be. But that second half featuring the child characters as adults was particularly disappointing, sucking whatever entertainment value remained from watching Tim Curry's evil clown wreck havoc in this small Maine town. And while it definitely wasn't scary, it's hard to point to any miniseries of the era that was.

It's fitting to discuss memories and nostalgia when examining the many merits of Andy Muschietti's reimagined vision of It since that's how he makes this interpretation connect. And if there's one thing we've learned about the frequently unadaptable works of Stephen King, it's that you need to find a way in. His mind goes to these strange, weird places, and unless the filmmaker can find a suitable entrance, it can all seem kind of ridiculous. In this case, that door was in front of our faces the whole time: Stand By Me-era King meets 80's Spielberg by way of Stranger Things. At the risk of simplifying it, that's the key, and the rest of the pieces just fall into place.

Anyone doubting the extent of Stranger Things' pop culture stranglehold needn't look any further than It, since this couldn't or wouldn't have unfolded the way it does without that series. But it would all mean nothing if they didn't put in the work and get it right, taking an approach that's exactly appropriate for material that now suddenly feels purposeful, possessing a palpable sense of time and place entirely absent from its predecessor. If someone asks what this is about, you can now actually tell them with a clear conscience. But why bother, when the film does such a magnificent job conveying that all on its own, earning a spot alongside the likes of Stand by Me, Carrie, The Shining, The Shawshank Redemption and Dolores Claiborne on any essential list of the most successful cinematic King adaptations.

It's October 1988 in Derry, Maine when nervously stuttering Bill Denbrough (Jaeden Lieberher) makes his 7-year-old little brother Georgie (Jackson Robert Scott) a paper sailboat, which he loses down a sewer drain in the middle of a rain storm. While attempting to retrieve it, he comes face-to face with a terrifying clown who calls himself "Pennywise The Dancing Clown" (Bill Skarsgård). After initially earning Georgie's trust, he viciously attacks the boy, dragging him into the sewer, never to be seen again.

Flashforward to the following year and Bill hasn't given hope finding his little brother, despite his parents' and much of the town believing him to be dead. But when there's another mysterious disappearance under similar circumstances, Bill enlists the help of his friends, foul-mouthed Richie Tozier (Finn Wolfhard), asthmatic Eddie Kaspbrak (Jack Dylan Grazer) and reluctant Stan Uris (Wyatt Oleff), to to go to a local marsh called the Barrens and investigate the possibility Georgie's still alive. While there, they encounter teen bully Henry Bowers (Nicholas Hamilton) and his gang who have been tormenting overweight new kid, Ben Hanscom (Jeremy Ray Taylor), whose hours of research in the Derry library has provided the group with more than a few ideas about these child abductions.

Joining them is another Bowers Gang victim, orphaned African American student Mike Hanlon (Chosen Jacobs), and the only female member of what eventually becomes "The Losers' Club," tomboy Beverly Marsh (Sophia Lillis), whose rumored promiscuity has also made her a bullying target, even as a smitten Bill and Ben compete for her affections. Soon, the kids all realize they've had visions of the same clown, the sadistic Pennywise, who assumes the appearance of whatever they fear most. And each of them have personal demons to overcome before attempting to stop this unpredictable entity who knows just how to exploit those fears, aiming to resume the reign of terror he wrecks on the children of Derry every 27 years. To beat him they'll have to bravely band together, despite the clown's best efforts to drive them apart.

Freed from many of the creative constraints that hampered previous King horror adaptations, this one rips the band-aid off right away, with a declarative opening sequence that lets you know this It means business. Shot in a washed-out VHS-era haze and backed by an unnerving, foreboding score by Benjamin Wallfisch, an unmistakable atmosphere is established that was certainly missing in the original. An "R" rating isn't necessarily a must for any horror entry, but in this specific case it really bolsters the material, at least due in part to the fact that we're just not used seeing characters this age acting authentically and being terrorized to the degree they are here. Much like Stranger Things and 80's classics that inspired it, the young actors actually look and behave like kids, and among a fairly large cast, each are given distinctive personality traits that equip them differently in dealing with the evil clown.

Muschietti masters what so many previous filmmakers adapting King's work have failed to grasp by effectively picking his spots, knowing the trigger buttons for maximum fright, as well as how hard and often to push them. After a terrifyingly graphic introduction, Pennywise's subsequent appearances are strategically placed to count, as the focus turns to building the groundwork of the kids' relationships to each other so when the time comes for that ultimate showdown, we'll care.

The more we get to know the group, the more we eventually start seeing of Pennywise, menacingly played by Bill Skarsgård in a performance that shuts down any and all comparisons to Tim Curry's portrayal, if only because the presentation feels so wildly different this time around. Skarsgård brings an innocent, almost childlike playfulness to him that somehow seems even more sinister and monstrous, as he attempts to meet them on their level. King's story always had the advantage that clowns are inherently creepy, but you can't help think this reckless incarnation is more dangerous, frequently calling to mind the differences between Ledger's and Nicholson's Jokers.

Since Pennywise is used so sparingly in the opening hour, when the time arrives for him to take center stage in the battle with these kids, it actually means something. There are moments of true terror in not only their encounters with Derry's sadistic antagonist (particularly one suspenseful scene involving a slide projector), but in their everyday lives. Darker, more adult elements of King's novel were cleaned up for a suitable network TV presentation over two decades ago such as vicious bullying, child abuse, kidnapping and murder are given a more fully fleshed-out treatment here by Muschietti. Of course none of it would work if not for the casting of these kids, each of whom overdeliver, with one delivering one of the most memorable on screen interpretations of a King character in years.

Jaeden Lieberher ably takes the lead as the reluctant but determined Bill while Jeremy Ray Taylor seems to channel a young, chubby Jerry O'Connell from Stand By Me as chronic bullying victim, Ben. The latter's story arc is sure to remind many of Stranger Things, with Nicholas Hamilton's sociopathic delinquent, Henry, baring more than a passing resemblance to the similarly psychotic Billy from that series' sophomore season. But it's ultimately the work of Sophia Lillis as the abused and ostracized Beverly that makes the strongest connection, both with viewers and the source material.

Handed the most emotionally challenging of the main roles, Beverly carries with her a knowledge and world-weariness that seems years beyond her age, even as she remains paralyzingly stunted and a prisoner of her own fear. Or more accurately, the fear of her evil, abusive father. If ever there was a bridge between the first and second chapters of this saga, it's Lillis who builds it with a performance that basically dictates where that installment needs to go, even prompting many to acknowledge there's no better actress fit to take over that role than Jessica Chastain. Aside from the obvious similarity in looks, that she might be the only one to do it justice speaks volumes about what Lillis accomplishes.

If that casting possibility is the very definition of a no-brainer, figuring out a way to make Chapter 2 as involving will still be the biggest obstacle given King's penchant for sloppy, unrealized endings. There's a reason the most successful cinematic adaptations of the author's work have frequently deviated from their sources in unexpected ways. With this being the narratively stronger section, Muschietti manages to get away with not doing much of that but it'll be intriguing to see what tricks he'll have up his sleeve to further develop the story and characters following the twenty-seven year time jump.

That the ending has us looking forward to that second chapter is something few thought was even possible after the project was announced and then spent some time in pre-production purgatory. And even fewer still could have ever guessed It would become the all-time highest- grossing horror film to date. Watching the last thirty or forty minutes should be a strong reminder why, as that slow, simmering build peaks, and the kids are forced to stare fear straight in his face. And while they do see a terrifying clown, 2017's version of It understands that their true challenge comes in dealing with their own worst fears reflected back at them.