Review: "Street Fighter" Knocks Out Its Own Fighter

You could set your watch to the moment Kitao Sakurai's "Street Fighter" stops working. It arrives almost exactly at the halfway point, when its simple, cartoonish, enjoyable epic finally reaches its central tournament, a knockout series of seven fights, of which we may see one and a half. From that point on, this martial arts video [...]

After a strong start, Kitao Sakurai's Capcom adaptation turned into crap.

You can set your watch to when Kitao Sakurai's Street Fighter goes down. It's almost exactly halfway through, when its simple, cartoonishly enjoyable saga actually reaches its centerpiece, a seven-fight knockout series, of which we'll see maybe one and a half. From that point on, this martial arts video game adaptation scatters disastrously, between setups and payoffs with complete discrepancies, confusing ADR, and a complete lack of any real conclusion. It's a shame considering how enjoyable the film is to begin with. Related Stories Mia Goth slams Instagram's 'incomprehensible' decision to post AI-altered selfies online

The film's masterpiece is an intro (and several subsequent flashbacks) created by Titmouse Inc. It is presented in two-dimensional animation. These fiery, anime-inspired segments set the stage for the main video game story of American and Japanese Ken (Noah Centineo) and Rio (Andrew Koji) (Gostern's best friends). Ryu won the first World Warrior tournament in 1987, a victory that led him to the brink of dark and pervasive powers, courtesy of Gokun's evil brother Akuma (pro wrestler Joe "Roman Reigns" Anoi), a figure lurking in the shadows. Popular in Variety

Once you get into the live action, Street Fighter takes on a less serious tone, though it's consistently funny. The stylized MTV clips that retrace Ken's reckless stardom and Ryu's self-imposed exile after Gokun's death. Six years later, when Ken is winning fights with the help of opportunistic manager Dan Hibiki (comedian Andrew Schultz, the film's secret weapon) and Ryu is quietly running a failing noodle shop, they are approached by undercover Interpol agent Chun Lee (Kalina Liang). He invites them to a world warrior tournament hosted by his target, Lord M. Bison (David Dastamalchian) is shaped by a fascist style, who seeks to harness a force called "psychic power" from its winner.

These ludicrous ideas are displayed through suitably silly scenes where the action of language is the default. It's a pro-wrestling approach (for a movie featuring at least three pro wrestlers), where there are punchlines for everything from negotiations to brotherly reunions. Ken is eager to win the aforementioned tournament, while Rio is wary of his ulterior motives, leading to surprisingly meaningful tension between the former besties as they check into M. Bison's gilded hotel and cross paths with other fighters—friends and foes alike.

This leads to more behind-the-scenes conflict, laced with character-driven comedy, as opposing factions align. On one side are M. Beason's forces—the boxer Balrog (rapper Curtis "50 Cent" Jackson), the green-smelling lightning monster Blanca (Jason Momoa) and the charming hooker Vega (masked country musician Orville Peck)—while the real "good" side of American G.I. Gileh (wrestler Cody Rhodes) and fighter Arif Dahlsim (Indian martial arts video Jamwal). However, a deft mix of snappy dialogue, tongue-in-cheek stunts, and bold formal video game effects pave the way for a second half that isn't remotely coherent.

As the film increasingly splits between the races and M. Beason's reopening plot, something in the back half goes horribly wrong, hinting at a troubled production or that it was doomed from the start. Dialogue, whether expository exchanges or witty one-liners, is scattered and increasingly delivered with speakers behind their heads or mouths somewhat obscured. It would be interesting to know how much of the footage was rewritten in post.

Worse, the film just as quickly begins to drift away from its climactic action, replacing it with awkward, seemingly improvised comedy that rarely comes (some of it involving a TV host played by Sakurai's longtime colleague Eric Andre). That is, when the dialogue is audible at all; Much of it with a thunderous sound mix that obscures what you really want to hear.

The film's biggest sin, however, is that it bogs down its characters through a plot that adds crucial plot elements via flashbacks over the course of an hour (such as Ryu and Ken's secret energy abilities and the meaning behind them), as they head towards inevitable conclusions that never materialize. "Street Fighter" has two main antagonists in M. Bison and Akuma, both of whom mostly wait during matches to take advantage of the winner, but neither seem aware of the other's presence or intentions. So, when it comes to weaving all these threads together (including Chun Lee's revenge arc against M. Bison), every character hits the wrong emotional climax and everything just falls apart with no real ending.

The film often pays homage to the fan-favorite Street Fighter II: The Animated Movie (which, despite its title, isn't actually a sequel), and while this results in solid fan service like the occasional throwback dialogue, it also features a number of awkward scenes. One such moment, in fact, is the end of the film, which is similarly open-ended, but without earning enough goodwill to promise a sequel. Another scene of Chun Lee entering a steamy shower. In the animated film, this led to a vulnerable fight with Vega, with an Interpol agent in tow. Even though it was clearly pleasant, it also served a purpose in the story.

However, the same cannot be said for a similar moment in the live-action "Street Fighter," where the camera simply listens to Liang's body in a transitional moment. The fact that the actress has worked to match the character's musculature is undoubtedly impressive, but the number of stray shots of the women's hips makes the film feel uncomfortably retrograde. (Of course, let's not mention the many jokes in which the punch line is the hidden weirdness of Gileh.)

What Street Fighter feels like in its first half shows little emotional maturity flies out the window, along with all sense of story or character, in the second. It's a film at war with itself, where a straightforward narrative about a strained brotherhood is spread very thinly on increasingly disjointed action and comedy segments. And while its main strength is its handheld flashbacks, the longer the two-hour running time goes on, the more it feels like this charming anime version of the arcade classic should be the main event in the first place.