In this space, I’ve made no secret of my fondness for samurai pictures.
While they were not my first samurai pictures, I have a particular affection for the Zatoichi series of films: the franchise made exceptional use of the wandering blind samurai who always managed to find himself in the thick of a moral dilemma that pitted himself against some daunting adversary if not an entire village of them. Of course, I’ve enjoyed a great deal of standalone productions as well – Seven Samurai (1954), Yojimbo (1961), Harakiri (1962), etc. – but I do tend to gravitate more toward those properties that establish a franchise, giving me subsequent exposure to the classic warrior so that I can watch him evolve. Consequently, I’ll rarely pass up the opportunity to spend time with Samurai Wolf, Shinobi, and Lone Wolf and Cub, even if it’s only catching bits and pieces of them when I happen across a rare broadcast airing on television. Alas, that doesn’t happen often – sadly – but I accept what Fate has in store for me … as does every samurai.
Still, one of the things I’ve found here in the West is that the mere mention of being a fan of such things conjured up all sorts of – ahem – recommendations from readers, like-minded fans, and others who do what I do online. Because I’m a good guy, I take each and every suggestion under consideration, mostly because I’m prone to do a bit of research before I settle on giving anything else a try. When I go into it blindly, I’ve been more often disappointed than not; and this is owed to the fact that – here in the states – there is this conception of what makes for a good depiction of said warriors. In short, these are mostly definitely not ‘John Wick with a blade’ as I’ve heard them referred to occasionally; and that’s a good deal of what comes my way from the average reader.
(Of course, not offense is intended. It’s just the truth.)
Having heard about The Challenge (1982) – a film directed by the renowned John Frankenheimer – and – ahem – been assured that it was “a samurai flick,” I couldn’t help but accept a request for a promotional copy from a distributor. And why wouldn’t I? Frankenheimer’s reputation being what it is, the production also cast film legend Toshirô Mifune (star of some of the very best samurai stories ever) to basically share top billing with a young Scott Glenn (1979’s Apocalypse Now and 1983’s The Right Stuff) in a script attached in part to John Sayles (1980’s Battle Beyond The Stars, 1980’s Alligator, and 1981’s The Howling). By all accounts, this had the makings of something special!
Well … having now seen it, let me underscore that the project is one of the big reasons why I do so much research when I’ve forwarded suggestions from like-minded folks. Though not a bad film, The Challenge really only uses the construct of samurai codes with which to spin a rather conventional action picture that deserved a bit more spit, polish, and honor.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A down-and-out American boxer becomes involved in a feud between two Japanese brothers.”
While they were not my first samurai pictures, I have a particular affection for the Zatoichi series of films: the franchise made exceptional use of the wandering blind samurai who always managed to find himself in the thick of a moral dilemma that pitted himself against some daunting adversary if not an entire village of them. Of course, I’ve enjoyed a great deal of standalone productions as well – Seven Samurai (1954), Yojimbo (1961), Harakiri (1962), etc. – but I do tend to gravitate more toward those properties that establish a franchise, giving me subsequent exposure to the classic warrior so that I can watch him evolve. Consequently, I’ll rarely pass up the opportunity to spend time with Samurai Wolf, Shinobi, and Lone Wolf and Cub, even if it’s only catching bits and pieces of them when I happen across a rare broadcast airing on television. Alas, that doesn’t happen often – sadly – but I accept what Fate has in store for me … as does every samurai.
Still, one of the things I’ve found here in the West is that the mere mention of being a fan of such things conjured up all sorts of – ahem – recommendations from readers, like-minded fans, and others who do what I do online. Because I’m a good guy, I take each and every suggestion under consideration, mostly because I’m prone to do a bit of research before I settle on giving anything else a try. When I go into it blindly, I’ve been more often disappointed than not; and this is owed to the fact that – here in the states – there is this conception of what makes for a good depiction of said warriors. In short, these are mostly definitely not ‘John Wick with a blade’ as I’ve heard them referred to occasionally; and that’s a good deal of what comes my way from the average reader.
(Of course, not offense is intended. It’s just the truth.)
Having heard about The Challenge (1982) – a film directed by the renowned John Frankenheimer – and – ahem – been assured that it was “a samurai flick,” I couldn’t help but accept a request for a promotional copy from a distributor. And why wouldn’t I? Frankenheimer’s reputation being what it is, the production also cast film legend Toshirô Mifune (star of some of the very best samurai stories ever) to basically share top billing with a young Scott Glenn (1979’s Apocalypse Now and 1983’s The Right Stuff) in a script attached in part to John Sayles (1980’s Battle Beyond The Stars, 1980’s Alligator, and 1981’s The Howling). By all accounts, this had the makings of something special!
Well … having now seen it, let me underscore that the project is one of the big reasons why I do so much research when I’ve forwarded suggestions from like-minded folks. Though not a bad film, The Challenge really only uses the construct of samurai codes with which to spin a rather conventional action picture that deserved a bit more spit, polish, and honor.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A down-and-out American boxer becomes involved in a feud between two Japanese brothers.”
Having spent the better part of the 1980’s in high school and college, I did follow the film scene fairly closely. I was a fan of all kinds of productions – being of a certain age, I’ll admit to preferring Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror over most others – so I was apt to follow a certain actor or actress’s catalogue as such entries hit the theaters. From what I recall, I don’t remember much hubbub surrounding Scott Glenn at the time; he may’ve dropped onto my radar here and there, but his name arguably wasn’t one that I watched all that closely. What can I say? Such is the nature of youth and inexperience.
That said, I don’t even recall John Frankenheimer’s The Challenge hitting theaters back in the day. IMDB.com shows that it released in the U.S. in the summer of 1982; and – from the looks of its trailer – I suspect it was the kind of project that most likely would’ve hit the drive-in of my hometown as opposed to the downtown double-screen venue. Though it isn’t grindhouse exactly, the story employs a good number of similar elements – bad ass lead with a bad attitude, smart-mouthed henchmen, a tempting main squeeze, etc. – and such a booking might be why I missed it. Whatever the case, it just never registered; and – for all intents and purposes – the title pretty much vanished into obscurity.
Kino Lorber’s 2023 release dusts off the actioner and gives it a pretty solid presentation. Glenn looks the part of a kinda/sorta failed boxer down on his luck, and the aesthetic of the feature boasts the vibe of a good many Chuck Norris releases from the same time frame, albeit slightly higher brow (if you get the meaning). Arguably, the presence of Mifune – filmdom’s best recognized samurai – likely bolstered this one’s prospects with the intellectual crowd; but – for my tastes – it never really rises above conventional television fare to give it serious consideration on any front. Glenn handles his work as Rick affably enough, even though there’s never a sense that he’s fully committed to any single course of action except the one that allows him to get out alive.
The backdrop for The Challenge is set-up rather clunkily – there’s a preamble taking place in 1945 that’s curiously cut short (it reappears later in the production with a bit more clarity as a flashback) – but it ties to a long-lasting family feud between brothers Yoshida (Mifune) and Hideo (Atsuo Nakamura). Apparently, the clan’s legacy is to see these two samurai swords kept together – they’re called ‘The Equals’ – for posterity’s sake, and their reputation gets shattered when one seemingly disappears at the end of World War II. For reasons that were never quite clear to me, Yoshida – the elder brother – is the only one committed to honoring the family legacy; and this puts him forever at odds with Hideo, who has mostly turned his back on his nation’s heritage in the pursuit of personal profits. Though he’s vastly more successful than Yoshida, Hideo prefers to achieve his results with the help of criminals and commerce, making him the quintessential villain so far as this picture is concerned.
That said, I don’t even recall John Frankenheimer’s The Challenge hitting theaters back in the day. IMDB.com shows that it released in the U.S. in the summer of 1982; and – from the looks of its trailer – I suspect it was the kind of project that most likely would’ve hit the drive-in of my hometown as opposed to the downtown double-screen venue. Though it isn’t grindhouse exactly, the story employs a good number of similar elements – bad ass lead with a bad attitude, smart-mouthed henchmen, a tempting main squeeze, etc. – and such a booking might be why I missed it. Whatever the case, it just never registered; and – for all intents and purposes – the title pretty much vanished into obscurity.
Kino Lorber’s 2023 release dusts off the actioner and gives it a pretty solid presentation. Glenn looks the part of a kinda/sorta failed boxer down on his luck, and the aesthetic of the feature boasts the vibe of a good many Chuck Norris releases from the same time frame, albeit slightly higher brow (if you get the meaning). Arguably, the presence of Mifune – filmdom’s best recognized samurai – likely bolstered this one’s prospects with the intellectual crowd; but – for my tastes – it never really rises above conventional television fare to give it serious consideration on any front. Glenn handles his work as Rick affably enough, even though there’s never a sense that he’s fully committed to any single course of action except the one that allows him to get out alive.
The backdrop for The Challenge is set-up rather clunkily – there’s a preamble taking place in 1945 that’s curiously cut short (it reappears later in the production with a bit more clarity as a flashback) – but it ties to a long-lasting family feud between brothers Yoshida (Mifune) and Hideo (Atsuo Nakamura). Apparently, the clan’s legacy is to see these two samurai swords kept together – they’re called ‘The Equals’ – for posterity’s sake, and their reputation gets shattered when one seemingly disappears at the end of World War II. For reasons that were never quite clear to me, Yoshida – the elder brother – is the only one committed to honoring the family legacy; and this puts him forever at odds with Hideo, who has mostly turned his back on his nation’s heritage in the pursuit of personal profits. Though he’s vastly more successful than Yoshida, Hideo prefers to achieve his results with the help of criminals and commerce, making him the quintessential villain so far as this picture is concerned.
Having tracked down the stolen sword now in California, Yoshida dispatches his children Toshio (Sab Shimono) and Akiko (Donna Kei Benz) to recover it. Once its in their hands, they realize that they’ll need a means to get it through Japanese customs without Hideo being alerted to it, so they hire Rick – against his knowledge – to serve as a diversion, making all involved believed that it is he who is transporting the beloved blade although it’s been secretly stashed within the framework of Toshio’s wheelchair. Once the grand scheme falls apart in Japan, Rick is hauled into Hideo’s corporate offices as he has some seriously ‘splaining to do. Rather than allow this innocent man to die at the hands of her villainous uncle, Akiko rescues him in the knick of time and nurses him back to health within Yoshida’s training compound.
Basically, Rick serves as the kinda/sorta rags-to-riches style warrior for The Challenge’s premise. He’s the classic down-on-his-luck character – the guy who’s willing to look the other way if it benefits him in the slightest – making him apt to double-cross anyone who gets in the way to his just surviving. But given the fact that the script is holding out for a hero, Rick develops a loose father fascination with Yoshida, eventually deciding that he wants that honorable samurai existence to fill what he perceives as the hole in his moral core. Yes, it’s all a bit formulaic, and this is why formula pictures continue to be made decades after they were first discovered: they work, even if that means imbuing the rest of the story with only the bare necessities.
While the resulting father/son relationship never quite felt authentic, the Yoshida/Rick pairing works well enough to pave the way for their inevitable showdown opposite Hideo. Of course, this means that – ahem – ‘the father becomes the son’ and ‘the son becomes the father’ means that Rick is destined to be the last face Hideo sees on his exit from mortal life; and their showdown ends up being a bit unintentionally comical as our all-new American samurai makes his last stand not only with one of the fabled swords in his meaty hands but also he makes strategic use of office furniture, a photocopier’s power cord, and your standard top-of-the-line office stapler.
Yes … you read that right.
What I did like about The Challenge was the fact that – somewhere along the way – it appeared as if there were inklings of showing styles of the West and the East needing to find a comfortable middle ground if the two cultures were to somehow survive, an idea that definitely could’ve given this whole caper a stronger narrative spine. At one point, Yoshida selects Rick to join him for a ceremonial meeting between the brothers. When it becomes clear that Hideo has instead balked at the idea of behaving honorably and leaves the meeting under control of his armed entourage, the American employs the same strategy, making the gang believe that he’s surreptitiously joining them when he puts a knife to Yoshida’s throat. Of course, they dumbly lower their guard; and this affords Rick the chance to escape with his sensei and a few others. Back at their compound, the young man even gives an impassioned speech about how the ‘old ways’ cannot survive in this ‘new world,’ but sadly this all ends up being only lip service to a thematic idea that – if utilized to greater and consistent effect – might’ve shown this was a challenge worth undertaking.
Basically, Rick serves as the kinda/sorta rags-to-riches style warrior for The Challenge’s premise. He’s the classic down-on-his-luck character – the guy who’s willing to look the other way if it benefits him in the slightest – making him apt to double-cross anyone who gets in the way to his just surviving. But given the fact that the script is holding out for a hero, Rick develops a loose father fascination with Yoshida, eventually deciding that he wants that honorable samurai existence to fill what he perceives as the hole in his moral core. Yes, it’s all a bit formulaic, and this is why formula pictures continue to be made decades after they were first discovered: they work, even if that means imbuing the rest of the story with only the bare necessities.
While the resulting father/son relationship never quite felt authentic, the Yoshida/Rick pairing works well enough to pave the way for their inevitable showdown opposite Hideo. Of course, this means that – ahem – ‘the father becomes the son’ and ‘the son becomes the father’ means that Rick is destined to be the last face Hideo sees on his exit from mortal life; and their showdown ends up being a bit unintentionally comical as our all-new American samurai makes his last stand not only with one of the fabled swords in his meaty hands but also he makes strategic use of office furniture, a photocopier’s power cord, and your standard top-of-the-line office stapler.
Yes … you read that right.
What I did like about The Challenge was the fact that – somewhere along the way – it appeared as if there were inklings of showing styles of the West and the East needing to find a comfortable middle ground if the two cultures were to somehow survive, an idea that definitely could’ve given this whole caper a stronger narrative spine. At one point, Yoshida selects Rick to join him for a ceremonial meeting between the brothers. When it becomes clear that Hideo has instead balked at the idea of behaving honorably and leaves the meeting under control of his armed entourage, the American employs the same strategy, making the gang believe that he’s surreptitiously joining them when he puts a knife to Yoshida’s throat. Of course, they dumbly lower their guard; and this affords Rick the chance to escape with his sensei and a few others. Back at their compound, the young man even gives an impassioned speech about how the ‘old ways’ cannot survive in this ‘new world,’ but sadly this all ends up being only lip service to a thematic idea that – if utilized to greater and consistent effect – might’ve shown this was a challenge worth undertaking.
In the end, no, The Challenge isn’t a great film.
For those folks coming to the picture expecting a fair share of samurai greatness, you’ll likely be disappointed. The script – from Richard Maxwell, Sayles, and Ivan Moffat – only employs the warrior’s code circumstantially, keeping it alive only in the background and shining light on it when character development is needed. It’s really only a film effective as an action picture – one fairly standard for its era – as it never quite does anything exceptional with any of its people, its places, or its highly regarded things. There’s even the predictable blooming of love between Rick and Akiko – a romance that really only exists to serve as a ‘call to arms’ once Hideo’s henchmen grab the lovely lady as a bargaining chip in the last reel.
If you think that samurais deserved better than this, then take heart in knowing that I think audiences did, too.
The Challenge (1982) was produced by CBS Theatrical Films, Polyphony Digital, and Poncher-Rosen-Beckman Productions. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Kino Lorber. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I found the sights-and-sounds to this new release to be mostly exceptional; there are a few short sequences with a surprising amount of grain, and I can only assume that it’s owed to an inferior master. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Well, there is an audio commentary along with some of the original promotional stuff, but that’s – sigh – all she wrote.
Alas … only Mildly Recommended.
Once more, I find myself a man on an island … at least so far as conveying my affection for the classic samurai picture, of which The Challenge (1982) doesn’t really hold up. Yes, it has the look and the occasional style and maybe even a few of the affectionate trappings; but it misses the mark with its adherence to following the all-too-common cut-and-paste approach to producing what audiences had already seen before. Being predictable isn’t necessarily a bad thing; but lazily throwing so many scenes together without greater emotional resonance will, at best, produce only a guilty pleasure of an action flick. This one had potential, but it was squandered in pursuit of the all-too-typical fare.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Kino Lorber provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of The Challenge (1982) by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
For those folks coming to the picture expecting a fair share of samurai greatness, you’ll likely be disappointed. The script – from Richard Maxwell, Sayles, and Ivan Moffat – only employs the warrior’s code circumstantially, keeping it alive only in the background and shining light on it when character development is needed. It’s really only a film effective as an action picture – one fairly standard for its era – as it never quite does anything exceptional with any of its people, its places, or its highly regarded things. There’s even the predictable blooming of love between Rick and Akiko – a romance that really only exists to serve as a ‘call to arms’ once Hideo’s henchmen grab the lovely lady as a bargaining chip in the last reel.
If you think that samurais deserved better than this, then take heart in knowing that I think audiences did, too.
The Challenge (1982) was produced by CBS Theatrical Films, Polyphony Digital, and Poncher-Rosen-Beckman Productions. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Kino Lorber. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I found the sights-and-sounds to this new release to be mostly exceptional; there are a few short sequences with a surprising amount of grain, and I can only assume that it’s owed to an inferior master. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Well, there is an audio commentary along with some of the original promotional stuff, but that’s – sigh – all she wrote.
Alas … only Mildly Recommended.
Once more, I find myself a man on an island … at least so far as conveying my affection for the classic samurai picture, of which The Challenge (1982) doesn’t really hold up. Yes, it has the look and the occasional style and maybe even a few of the affectionate trappings; but it misses the mark with its adherence to following the all-too-common cut-and-paste approach to producing what audiences had already seen before. Being predictable isn’t necessarily a bad thing; but lazily throwing so many scenes together without greater emotional resonance will, at best, produce only a guilty pleasure of an action flick. This one had potential, but it was squandered in pursuit of the all-too-typical fare.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Kino Lorber provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of The Challenge (1982) by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
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