Think back to the previous sequel, 3 Ninjas Kick Back – the inevitable unwanted sequel to 1992’s 3 Ninjas. Remember it wasn’t the first sequel produced. That would be 3 Ninjas Knuckle Up (and just what is “knuckling up?”), filmed – mostly – in 1992, yet not released until 1995. And man, Kick Back was pretty awful! Just imagine the cinematic abortion that would be the skipped-over sequel, Knuckle Up – a movie I assume they eventually released simply because it existed.
As what is arguably the first sequel, Knuckle Up enjoys the original three actors/ninjas – it’s weird to watch these things chronologically, and see a reversion back from Kick Back’s uninspired casting to 3 Ninja’s uninspired casting. So once again we have the real Rocky (Michael Treanor), Colt (Max Elliott Slade) and Tum Tum (Chad Power – this is not a name given to humble children). Victor Wong is back, as always – he’s the only actor shameless enough to be in all the 3 Ninjas – in the role of Grandpa (they’ve dropped the confusion over Grandpa’s last name by simply refusing to give him one).
In fact, it’s not entirely quality which kept Knuckle Up away for so long (though it does suck). As of 1992 it was unfinished. This adds a little in-film discontinuity to go along with the inter-entry confusion. Occasional scenes suddenly show Rocky with braces, all the now-actually-pubescent leads squeaking away like a “Simpsons” teenager.
Things start out in the most standard possible way for a 3 Ninjas movie, with the boys summering up at Grandpa’s cabin, learning to kill. A brief detour sets up the main conflict – the local Indian tribe in Grandpa’s geographically indistinct region is protesting the dumping of toxic waste by eeeevil businessman Jack (Charles Napier, and am I the only one getting a sudden Joker vibe?). Somehow, Jack’s business model involves directly, intentionally damaging the environment, and the only way for the Indians to stop him is to find a floppy disc MacGuffin. It's like a Steven Seagal movie for kids!
The ninja trio stops off for pizza in the blandest middle California town they could’ve found. Here they have an early run-in with the formula-mandated trio of bumbling buffoons. This time it’s not surfers or moshers, but rednecks (the only one of note is J.J., played by Patrick Kilpatrick), eagerly shoving little children around for the sheer assholism of it. So the three ninjas fight them.
At this point, let’s just say there is no variation to the three ninja’s endless fight scenes. It’s all pitched at the same live-action cartoon tone, all of Isaac Newton’s laws are mercilessly violated, as children thrash adults with ease. Prop fu is attempted; Jackie Chan it ain’t. However, for once we have a director who just might show some efficacy at martial arts, for the director of Knuckle Up is Simon S. Sheen.
That pseudonym reveals nothing. He’s actually Shin Sang-ok, a noted South Korean director and winner of South Korea’s top artistic honor, the Gold Crown Cultural Medal. So…Asian, ostensibly skilled…Of course there’s another reason Sang-ok won that medal…
He was kidnapped by Kim Jong-il!
Yes, in 1978 Sang-ok was captured by the wicked, film-hungry madmen of North Korea, shuttled from one internment capsule to another for several years, and then forced into filmmaking in the early ‘80s to stroke Kim Jong-il’s fragile ego. His most notable accomplishment was a Godzilla rip-off called Pulgasari. It is a propaganda metaphor about the effects of unchecked capitalism.
Then in 1986, Sang-ok escaped the Korean peninsula and sought political amnesty in the United States. This jumpstarted a remarkably fruitless career in Hollywood, of which his finest labor happens to be…3 Ninjas Knuckle Up.
I take this detour because it is far more interesting than Sang-ok’s ostensible “masterpiece.” So let there simply be one more observation about the endless action sequences. Basically, Knuckle Up is closest in mentality to an actual martial arts flick – you know, something Asian. The ratio of interminable fights to under-baked plot scenes bears that out. This approach is wonderful to behold when the fighting is good; here, our “martial artists” are three white children, so Sang-ok’s efforts are as doomed-to-failure as in North Korea. I’d say Knuckle Up probably shows capitalism’s faults far better than any old pseudo kaiju ever could.
And can you believe this beast was rated PG-13 (for “non-stop ninja action”)?! Nice try, guys.
Okay, okay, I’ll get back to the movie…
Grandpa opposes his grandsons’ non-stop ninja action – he does this because Mr. Miyagi would do likewise (WWMD). And here I can see why Knuckle Up was released third – if you squint really hard, it resembles The Karate Kid Part III, just as Kick Back was The Karate Kid Part II. Just replace Miyagi’s bonsai obsession with an orchid obsession.
So there is this Indian girl, Jo (Crystle Lightning, of American Pie Presents Band Camp), whose father has been kidnapped by Jack’s redneck posse. This looks like a job for not one, not two, but three ninjas! Off they creep, all ninja-like, into Jack’s landfill. Hell, they even traipse around in full-on green toxic waste, of purest '80s Troma variety. Later, they’ll sneak through the sewers. Hmm, ninjas, sewers, toxic waste, why does this sound familiar?
They confirm that Jo’s dad Charlie (Don Shanks) is bound up in Jack’s warehouse. For the first time ever the three ninjas contemplate calling the police, except the Sheriff is in Jack’s proverbial pocket (so is the Mayor).
Telling Jo of this development, all resolve to rescue Charlie tonight – after all, tomorrow is the hearing about destroying Jack’s landfill, and only Charlie knows where the disc to implicate Jack is. These four youths MacGuyver themselves up some weaponry, dismantling the majority of Jo’s Indian village in the process. They also put on war paint, a peace sign drawn on Tum Tum’s forehead. Quoth he: “Peace?! I hate peace.” I can see why the MPAA rated this PG-13, just to curtail the spread of such stupid notions to children.
Charlie is rescued, as the three ninjas battle rednecks, and I battle boredom. The following battle, like all which Knuckle Up knuckles up, is long, and lacking in enough variation to be worth recounting. Rather, let’s just give each fight sequence a title, and move on.
LANDFILL FOLLIES!
Okay, moving on…
We take a break for one of the years-later scenes, filmed at Grandpa’s cabin in the daytime. Rocky scratches his new zits while Grandpa berates their latest ninja-y nonsense.
Then it’s on to the Indian village, nighttime once again, for a big festival and dance held in the three ninja’s honor. Going off of the last scene, presumably this is now the night after the hearing, when dialogue continues to insist it is “tomorrow.” Wow, that tacked-on scene created a major continuity problem, eh?
Also, despite this taking place on the Californian coast (based off of where the previous 3 Ninjas took place, as well as the plainly visible mountains of San Luis Obispo on display), the movie presents all Native American culture as Plains Indians. For the 3 Ninjas, there is nothing but stereotyping!
The three ninjas take a break from action scenes. Seeing as they cannot act, instead they perform an unappealing breakdance for the Indians – by now they’re stealing from Michael Jackson. Man, this must’ve seemed dated, even in 1992! But thankfully (er, I mean, unfortunately), Jack and his redneck hoard interrupt the celebration to try snatching Charlie’s disc .
VILLAGE VIOLENCE!
The villains are easily routed, which is not something you expect to report at the halfway point. Jack debates canceling the hearing, but realizes the sudden media presence (which we never see) means he’ll have to continue. Instead, he opts to hire a mass of mercenaries. Oh yeah, the media won’t pick up on that!
Pausing for another wildly unnecessary new scene, the boys give Grandpa a nude massage in his hot tub. I wish I were making this up.
Another pause in viciousness allows them to harp upon the film’s insipid flower theme – it’s the bit of mystical wisdom our heroes don’t work out until the finale, as in all martial arts movies. Getting that flower nonsense out of the way, the ninjas and Indians are now all driving towards the courthouse when – a motorcycle gang shows up!
MOTORCYCLE MAYHEM!
Jo is kidnapped in the MAYHEM, while the three ninjas acquire a car. Charlie and his cohort Californian Comanches continue to the courthouse, where Jack informs him of Jo’s new status as a bargaining chip. Ah, so it’s blackmail! Thus Charlie shall not produce his disc without Jo present, making her the new MacGuffin. Wonderful way to use your female lead, guys!
The three ninjas motor up to a random Old West town, vast and vacant. The perfect place for an action sequence. Indeed –
OLD WEST WACKINESS!
This is one lengthy fight sequence, even by Knuckle Up standards. Indeed, it takes up the remainder of the film – nearly a third. As I’ve resolved to remain tight-lipped about these fights, there’s not much else to say. The sudden proliferation of screen caps (which I take at regular intervals) should alone suggest how lengthy this section is.
Finally the ninjas rescue Jo from the biker gang (why is this stuff not awesome?). One awkward jump cut later and they’re at the courthouse, where – Oh dear!
COURTHOUSE CRAZINESS!
So we put up with a little more monotonous lunacy, against the redneck trio (who are as inefficacious as ever). Jo rushes in to see Charlie, he then willingly produces the disc, and a convenient EPA guy declares Jack suddenly out of business – just like that. Villainous Jack’s reaction to this news is quite good, because it also sums up my feelings about this movie.
But dear Buddha, what of the flowers?! Indeed, so one-tracked were the various fights, they never even bothered to insert the content, the moral, the message this film purports to be about (because no family film can avoid crowing some over-staged message). Rather, the flower thing is allowed to play out after the fact, as the ninjas relax together on the lawn. A close-up rose buds in time lapse, as Grandpa’s voice over speaks directly to Rocky. It is very cheesy. What it boils down to is this: Flowers don’t show off. What fortune cookie did Grandpa get that from?!
Based on the monetary success if 3 Ninjas Kick Back ($11 million, well below 3 Ninjas), there is barely any reason for 3 Ninjas Knuckle Up to exist. But it already did exist, basically, so it makes sense then to take it off of the shelf and try to recoup costs. It did not do that. However much money was riding on this, I’m sure Knuckle Up’s paltry half million dollar take couldn’t cover it. For a mainstream release, that is an abysmal tally! Surely that should mean the death knell of this inexplicable, juvenile franchise.
And yet, it’s not. One final 3 Ninjas would come about (if it didn’t, we wouldn’t be talking about these films). I surely cannot offer up a single reason for why 3 Ninjas: High Noon at Mega Mountain exists, and yet it does. This deep in the quagmire of kid-vid rubbish, there’s not much one can hope for with Mega Mountain, except…it might even be more awful than its predecessors, and therefore be good!
Related posts:
• No. 1 3 Ninjas (1992)
• No. 2 3 Ninjas Kick Back (1994)
• No. 4 3 Ninjas: High Noon at Mega Mountain (1998)
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