Fist of the Condor (2023) – John Wick star leads a strange, uneven Chilean beat-’em-up (Review)

The impact of the John Wick franchise on modern action cinema cannot be overstated, and its ultra-slick camerawork and gorgeously sexy lighting have led many to imitate, but none to better. It’s also elevated stunt work across the globe to borderline high art, and franchise helmsman Chad Stahelski’s own tenure as a tough-as-old-boots double has given him a significant amount of respect for the work. From that has come some excellent showcases for unsung actors most often seen on the direct-to-video circuit, with the likes of Mark Dacascos and Scott Adkins being notably fruity highlights of late.

A lot must be said though, for Chilean martial artist Marko Zaror, who’s a long-term collaborator of Adkins and portrayed John Wick: Chapter 4‘s Chidi – the latest in the long line of well-dressed, dog-hating henchmen who are perpetual thorns in the protagonist’s side. He’s an imposing presence at 6″2, and with his strong-chinned countenance and the ability to pull of the slimiest facial hair imaginable, it’s easy to see why his marble-like features have been the face of many low-budget beat-’em-ups for the past decade or so. His most recent outing with director Ernesto Díaz Espinoza (marking the fifth since 2006), sees Zaror lead, produce and choreograph Fist of the Condor – a martial arts picture dedicated almost exclusively to fighting, training and philosophising.

Zaror is Guerrero, a lone ass-kicker walking the earth like Kung Fu‘s Caine before him. He glowers, monologues and squints mysteriously in between sequences of being beset by a host of bad guys, all of whom are after his deadly fighting technique – the eponymous Way of the Condor. That’s about it in terms of the story (seriously!), as Espinoza and Zaror’s interests lie in trying to capture the simple spirit of Shaw Brothers plots of the same ilk, but while the material itself might be straightforward, to slightly misquote Tommy Cooper here, “it’s the way they tell ’em”. Espinoza’s spices of choice include evil twins (Zaror starring once again in a very wiggy wig and dressed like CBBC’s Raven), endless training montages, and mysticism so confident in its whispered, sincere tone that you’re never sure if it’s well-researched or complete nonsense. It’s a modest undertaking, establishing its own martial arts lore and remixing the language of Asian cinema and Westerns into an anachronistic portrait of modern Chile. In Fist Of The Condor, men ride up on motorbikes to fight in ways that have been tradition for hundreds, if not thousands of years, but does this goody bag of wacky genre elements hang together?

Unfortunately, the problem is a question of budget as, despite Zaror’s hard work to gain traction as a rising star, there’s just not enough polish to make Fist of the Condor land its punches. Too often the frequent philosophical narration plays over clunky, bleached-out shots of condors flying or waves crashing in slow-motion, making the mysteries of Guerrero’s worldview feel more like a YouTube sleeping tape than an actual movie. Coupled with a blended-up flashback structure that mixes different threads of backstory with present-day action, it becomes increasingly formless as the brisk 80 minute runtime treads water, gently paddling back and forth between Zaror looking into a broken mirror (some Complex Character Writing 101), and his evil twin sending goons straight out of Mad Max to steal the Way of the Condor. 

That being said, there are some arresting moments amidst the dour tone and plotting. Zaror’s choreography sets some impressive physical challenges for himself and his co-stars, and the film is packed with flying kicks and full body spins that give some momentary oomph to the action on a blow-by-blow basis. The film does manage to shake off its incessant straight-facedness when enjoying such sights as Zaror galloping across a field like a dog, or indulging in a good old-fashioned exploding head during the climactic scrap. There’s even a bizarre sequence that unconventionally raises the stakes when Zaror effectively micturates on himself in an act of ritual humiliation between siblings, and this is the type of strange, idiosyncratic touch that elevates parts of Fist of the Condor from standard DTV fare to an adventurous oddity that (occasionally), isn’t afraid to get weird.

Raising the stakes like that should set the stage for an awesome grudge match between light and dark but the film opts for cutting itself short, effectively losing an entire act after an hour of set-up. To say Fist of the Condor builds to an anti-climax is putting it lightly, with the final moments reeking of unearned sequel bait and ultimately stopping at precisely the wrong moment in a bid to milk more out of an already-thin story. Whether Fist of the Condor 2: Jiujistu Boogaloo will ever materialise is uncertain, even with the blossoming stardom of Zaror as an action star, so the cynicism of this maybe-standalone film and its limp ending feels like a cheap move. If audiences want more of Guerrero’s adventures then so be it, but purposefully fluffing the ending breaks the promise of what should have been a simple and emotional showdown. As it stands, Zaror is a striking presence in search of stronger material, and with his first star vehicle after his international explosion in John Wick: Chapter 4, he remains deserving of a film with the polish and poise to match his own.

Simon’s Archive – Fist of the Condor