The story centers on Tsotsi, a young man involved in gang related crime. This is mainly robbery, but early on in the movie a crime taken too far ends in murder. Retreating to a local bar, Tsotsi and his accomplices debate what has happened, and we realize soon after that this is to be a turning point (as one would hope it would be) in the young man's life. However, he goes on steal a car later that night and unwittingly ends up in a possession of a baby in the backseat. What follows is a slow but pronounced change to the way he thinks about things, and as he struggles to take care of the child we are treated to a unique and moving picture.

The film is often dark and has kind of a dream-like quality to it. The shantytowns of Johannesburg are shown in a painterly and filmic way, and the film certainly doesn't have the grim documentary-style reality of City of God, but it is no less effective. Shying away from the straightforward, raw style of Fernando Meirelles' work serves to focus the attention to Tsotsi and his plight, and the people that surround him. This is a human story, and as Tsotsi holds the baby in his hands you can feel him contemplating his own life. It's is a great film, and very deserving of its Oscar. Check it out and support global filmmaking.

There really is no story to speak of here. A young waiter spends the whole movie trying to get the town barber/resident kung fu master to teach him his monkey style, while various fights between different animal styles are dropped in periodically. The master eventually concedes, and the final fight pits the monkey fighters against a drifter thug and his deadly snake style. Basic stuff. I started the movie with low to no expectations, expecting yet another run of the mill martial arts comedy. Incredibly, I found it growing on me after about 15 minutes. It has an easy charm to it that can't be manufactured -- either you have it or you don't. Some movies try to achieve this and come off as meager attempts at lighthearted comedy, others simply end up feeling cloying. Then there's a movie like this, which attacks its material like a comedian barreling ahead with their monologue, oblivious to whether anyone is laughing or even cares. It is genuinely funny and never tries hard or pleads for its laughs (mainly because many of them are unintentional, but hey). It's goofy at heart and as the movie went on I found myself enjoying the comedy not for the content, but for the way it was delivered with an impish grin and no expectations. One of the best scenes involves the Master refusing the Waiter's request to teach him, and then follows a very slow chase between the two up and down a tree. It's simple and the way it's handled without a second's thought bumps it up into something sublime.

The martial arts moves aren't anything I haven't seen 20 times before, but there are flashes of creativity and the actors perform them like they're the hottest kids on the block. With that kind of confidence, who's to say they're not? Granted, the animal styles showcased are a little suspect -- the "tiger style" reminded me more of a drunken Frankenstein swatting at opponents. But this criticism can easily be quelled by quoting a passage from the movie: "You call that Crane style?" "It's a special Crane style!"

The editing and direction are adequate for the most part, at least until the editing breaks down in the final few scenes, most likely from parts of scenes being haphazardly scrapped. On a good note, the music, which can make or break a movie, is brilliant. It's a bizarre patchwork of sweeping orchestral strings, jangly '70s spaghetti western themes, saxophone solos, and other mismatched musical snatches. At times I thought I even heard the theme songs for both The Fox and the Hound and the Oscar ceremonies. It serves to throw another layer on the goofiness, and one that is often hilarious. When a movie cuts to the hero practicing his monkey style silhouetted against the sun, with a bizarre Chipmunks-like accompaniment, you can't help but choke on your drink.

I'm always pleased when I give a movie that looks terrible a chance and it in turn rewards me with something special. Beyond most logical reasoning I stuck with Monkey Fist Floating Snake, and in its endearing ineptness I found a small gem. The best part of the movie is the relationship between the Waiter and the Master. Their endless back and forth games are amusing, and the Master croaks out his lines like a toothless old coot from the Wild West. It's all in good fun. The movie's grasp on me may be tenuous -- I'm not sure how I'd react to it on another day, in another mood, with different weather. But tonight the pieces seemed to be there, and it worked for me.

I have an affection for early '90s bad action (Bloodfist 1-3 baby). Maybe it's because that's when I was growing up; there is a bit of comfort in the hair, the clothes, the cars, the guitars -- the golden age of Van Damme, Seagal, and my personal favorite, Don "The Dragon" Wilson. But I'm definitely not going to give a movie clearance to suck just because it was made then, it has to bring the goods. Breathing Fire does just that. The story is your basic fare: there's a bank heist, the bounty is locked away and in a bizarre twist, the crooks make an imprint of the key in the back of a plastic pizza, cut it into slices, and each take a piece. It's stupid and unnecessary, but it makes it vaguely amusing ("Find me that PIECE of PIZZA!"). There's also the murder of a bank manager and his wife, his daughter flees to the protection of one of his acquaintances, David, and they unwittingly seek refuge in the house of one of David's friends, a 'Nam buddy and coincidentally the murderer of the girl's parents. Michael, the murderous bank robber Vietnam buddy, is the father of two kids played by Jonathan Ke Quan and Eddie Saavedra, who are also martial artists in training and fight for the attention of the girl. Whatever. None of this really matters all that much except to provide the basis for a bunch of fights. The martial arts, coming from many of the actors' real-life training and stuntwork, seems to be a mixture of kung fu, tae kwon do, and straight brawlin', and is truly inspired. Ke Quan and Saavedra, although very young, show great athleticism. The moves are nothing groundbreaking, but they're performed with confidence and conviction, and you can tell the movie is made by a bunch of career stuntmen just having fun throwing themselves around. The David character (played by Ed Neil of future Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers fame) is especially fun to watch showing off his wushu skills.

The acting is... horrible. Ed Neil stares off to the side of the camera most of the time and delivers his lines like a nervous zombie, most likely reading his lines off a cue card. In one heartfelt scene his speech is so flat and dry I was expecting him to finish it by slumping over dead. In another absolutely hilarious shot he stares at the two boys through a hole in a barn wall, with an implied tear in his eye. The rest of the acting isn't too much better. Bolo Yeung lays down his requisite brick-wall-that-don't-like-you role, while Wendell C. Whitaker actually does an OK job as Tank, the repentant bank robber. It's barely even worth mentioning the bad acting though, seeing as anything else would be astonishing.

Breathing Fire is a movie made for martial arts fans by martial arts fans. A little research on the internet reveals most of the actors and directors (there's three) have backgrounds in stuntwork, and it shows. You can tell by their flexibility and well-honed moves that these guys know what they're doing. So forgive the bad writing and the terrible acting, and have a few laughs. I can think of worse things to do.

I've read this was the scariest Japanese movie ever made, and I'm inclined to believe it is a cultural thing, though not entirely. The most effective horror plays off the human fear of things that could actually happen to you. Make a movie about people being killed in movie theater parking lots, and theatergoers are going to be running to their cars after seeing it. Thus, a film about an evil begrudged spirit is going to resonate with Asian audiences, whose cultures are permeated with animist beliefs -- for the Japanese specifically through their Shinto and Buddhist religions. The fact that it has done so well in the West may prove this is an inate human fear and not just superstition, but the beliefs are so up front and center in Japanese life and day to day ritual that they probably have more than a little to do with the "scariest movie ever" label. The shot of two ghosts staring out from behind a Buddhist altar, trapped in limbo after being savagely ripped from the circle of life, further cements the connection. Playing off cultural fears seems to be why a lot of Asian horror movies involve the supernatural world and restless ghosts, while most American horror involves being hog-tied in the back of a van or being corraled by inbred mountain men.

Cultural pondering aside, this is a horror movie, and it just wants to scare you whoever you are. For me, it failed. I'm actually kind of perplexed as to how this is almost uniformly revered. It's a well done movie, and the little blue boy is sure to be an instantly recognizable image for years to come, but the scares just weren't there. Not even the jumps. Alas, back to the list.