THE MARTIAL ARTIST --Would-Be Star Vehicle Crashes, Burns

Review by Daniel Lima

There is an apocryphal story that famed Hollywood agent once wagered with a friend that he could make anybody a star, found some work for his aikido instructor, and thus started the illustrious career of Steven Seagal. Funny as the thought may be, anyone who has seen his early work knows how distinct his screen presence is, and the unique flavor he brought to what could have been boilerplate material. I thought of him often — and other martial artists who cemented themselves as leading men and women — as I watched The Martial Artist, a vanity project that only serves to make clear the obvious limitations of its would-be star.
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Pakistani-American actor Shaz Khan plays a young man in America who dreams of becoming a mixed martial arts champion. Though his fighting skills and passion are unparalleled, that same drive to succeed begins to take a toll on his personal life and the people he cares for, forcing him to look inward and reconnect with his heritage and who he is to stop the cycle of self-destruction.

The underdog who embraces violence, finds himself humbled, and builds himself up has been a cliché narrative in both martial arts movies and sports dramas for decades. It might not be doing anything new, but the familiar template does allow Khan the opportunity to show what he is capable of not only as a lead, but as director, writer, and producer as well. It is an opportunity he squanders.

The Martial Artist is meant to function as a character drama, centering on the rise and fall and rise again of the young handsome man who the audience wants to see grow as a person and fighter. The core problem here is that he sucks. Not Shaz Khan himself (though his performance is notably affectless and bland), but the protagonist, who is given no redeeming qualities beyond a drive to succeed, which is not enough to support audience sympathy when over an hour is spent on how mean and selfish and petulant he is. By the time the inevitable personality shift happens, it’s impossible to be invested in his personal journey, because there’s never been a hint of anything more to his character.

Not that any of the ensemble fare better. For a film meant to get into the mind of a fighter, and show how his behavior affects the people around him, precious little time is spent on fleshing the supporting cast out. He has a girlfriend who we are told loves him and works at a law firm, but both are informed attributes, and its a wonder why she even would want to hang out with him to begin with. His mother wants him to stop fighting, and that’s all there is to say about her. There’s a bunch of local hoodlums who harass him and his community, though they only serve as a flimsy excuse for something to happen. Technically, these relationships all change over the course of the film, but they do so without no ceremony and zero dramatic weight, often skipping over that development with jarring time jumps and montages. As much that is spent on Khan pouting and arguing with these people, it’s incredible that they are so thinly written.

The same could be said of the rest of this world. Though the story nominally sees Khan join a premium fight promotion and become a bona fide celebrity, budgetary constraints mostly confide the characters to barren gyms and suburban homes. While that is understandable, that this is all captured with such a drab palette, lacking any visual flair beyond keeping things in focus, makes watching this unfold a chore. Adding to this is how slowly the very predictable story unfolds, as these paper-thin characters spout their hack dialogue. Worst of all, however, is the lack of sound design plaguing far too many scenes. The lack of any ambient noise is deafening, obliterating any sense of place or texture. Taken as a whole, the entire film feels artificial, more a hastily assembled product than art.

What of the martial art? While it does seem Khan and the other actors may actually have some fight training, and the handful of action beats seem like they have been designed and choreographed with some thought, the filmmaking neuters what could have been achieved. The camera stays in a medium shot, creating remove between the action and the audience, with incessant spinning around the fighters and choppy editing ruining any sense of rhythm or place. It’s hardly the worst of the movie’s problems, but its a shame to see some of the interesting settings go to waste.

As flawed as this film is, there is one section that shows a glimmer of what could have been. At one point in the story, Khan visits his ancestral home in Pakistan. As he learns to accept his responsibilities as well as his failings, gets to know his distant relatives, slowly transitioning from speaking only English to Urdu, and hones his martial skills atop mountains overlooking gorgeous vistas. It’s all undermined by the issues detailed above — drab palette, lack of emotional attachment, boring lead — but this is where the film actually sets itself apart from all the other martial arts vanity projects, by focusing in on what makes Shaz Khan unique.

It’s tempting to be a bit easy on The Martial Artist. This was a low budget, independent production seemingly meant to act as a calling card for the director/producer/writer/star. It’s hard to be charitable, however, when reminded of films like Kung Fu Rookie, Life After Fighting, Contour and Parole Violators. It is possible to make a compelling and thrilling action drama with meager means. This attempt was a failure. Hopefully Khan can find or create something that will put his talents to better use.

The Martial Artist is now in theaters.

Rating: 1.5/5