Clash

Clash is a terrible movie.

A Thai martial arts picture, Clash has all the earmarks of a train wreck: lazy choreography, poor blocking, wooden acting, and a story that’s just plain dull.

Let’s start with the story: it’s a Maguffin hunt, pure and simple.  The heroes don’t say much.  The villain listens to opera and wears white shoes.  There’s a shootout at the end.  Boring.

Fact is, however, that you can get away with that in your action picture so long as the set-pieces work.  Clash’s don’t.  Yes, there are a number of good stunts.  But Clash doesn’t show me anything I haven’t seen before, and the blocking ensures that I’ll notice the inch between the foot/fist/weapon of one stuntman and the face of the other.

It doesn’t help when your leads know three expressions: scowling, sullen, and cackling. 

Not for one moment did I believe I Clash was showing me real people.  Not for one moment did I feel any sense of vicarious danger.  Not for one moment did I believe.

I was hoping for so much better.