The Cinema Girl | Point Break (1991) + Big Trouble in Little China (1986)

With affordably priced DVD movies squeezing out pre-recorded VHS tapes on store shelves, film studios have gone full-throttle to satisfy an audience eager for a constant stream of new product. For movie lovers, this means the appearance of DVD titles that go beyond new releases and the usual must-see classics. Movies which were ignored or misunderstood during their initial theatrical release, like Point Break (1991) and Big Trouble in Little China (1986), are receiving a second chance to find their niche [in 2001].

Ten and fifteen years old, respectively, these boxoffice underperformers can now be seen in a new light by a culture that has finally caught up with them. Both are being released by Twentieth Century Fox, a studio initially wary of DVD technology, but now regularly produces stellar special editions, like the two-disc set of John Carpenter's supernatural martial arts comedy, Big Trouble in Little China. Kathryn Bigelow's surfer heist flick, Point Break, gets a standard DVD release (sans commentary or extras), but this widescreen edition finally does her amazing visuals justice.

Whether by choice, inclination or circumstance, both Bigelow and Carpenter are genre directors, and their work has been routinely dismissed or ignored on its initial release, only to be appreciated later. Just look at their interpretations of that great horror genre, the vampire movie. Kathryn Bigelow's Near Dark (1987) and John Carpenter's Vampires (1998) strip away gothic romanticism and revel in raw sexuality, turning the gloomy, brooding undead into defiant outlaws living beyond the pale of conventional morality. Neither skimped on the gore or the violence, and as directors, both regularly challenge the increasingly safe boundaries adopted by the makers of Hollywood's popcorn fare.

In her thrilling depictions of extreme sports, Bigelow was years ahead of her time, and Point Break is well worth seeing for the surfing and skydiving sequences alone, which perfectly illustrate the movie's tag-line of "100% pure adrenaline." The storyline may seem gimmicky — FBI Agent Johnny Utah (Keanu Reeves) infiltrates a tightly-knit group of surfers he believes are bankrobbers (they dress as ex-presidents to steal dead presidents) — but no less outrageous or improbable than most recent action flicks (see anything produced by Jerry Bruckheimer). After getting surfing lessons from the very buff Lori Petty (again, years before female athletes were considered sexy), Utah soon becomes the pet project of Zen surfer alpha male Bodhi (Patrick Swayze), a "modern savage" who uses thrills as a way to tap into the life force.

Reeves and Swayze are very physical actors who express themselves best through body language. What makes Point Break one of Kathryn Bigelow's most fully realized films is the way every action sequence is used to illuminate the characters; they are challenged emotionally as well as physically. While forging a new kind of action hero, Bigelow also engages Utah and Bodhi in the kind of male romance Raymond Chandler epitomized in The Long Goodbye; a heterosexual dance of rivalry and bonding that becomes the primary relationship for men driven to question their core belief system. Action movies use the most basic cinematic shorthand: what a character does — and how they do it — defines who they are. Taking this into account, Jack Burton (Kurt Russell) of Big Trouble in Little China, is an amazingly inept hero, who manages to save the day nonetheless.

After the success of Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (2000), awareness of the Hong Kong cinema that influenced Big Trouble in Little China is widespread, and it looks like a clever parody of movies like Chinese Ghost Story. But in 1986, with the genre still obscure, more than one American moviegoer was left scratching their heads in disbelief. Russell and Carpenter are obviously enjoying the last laugh. On the commentary track, they recall the innumerable ways studio executives questioned their sanity. Big Trouble in Little China was initially written as a western, modernized by screenwriter W.D. Richter (The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai Across the 8th Dimension), then tweaked by Carpenter, whose affection for supernatural kung fu movies and their loopy logic is apparent. It remains a western at heart, albeit an irreverent one; Kurt Russell's stiff swaggering and the cadence of his voice are pure John Wayne. (Indeed, Russell is to Carpenter what Wayne was to John "I make westerns" Ford.)

After cocky trucker Jack Burton loses his rig in San Francisco's Chinatown, he's drawn into a bizarre netherworld ruled by an ancient sorcerer. Carpenter inverts nearly every movie convention here, even tackling the sacred cow of the action hero, which Russell gleefully rips to shreds. (It's actually Dennis Dun, the Chinese American sidekick, who possesses the necessary knowledge, bravery and fighting skills.) One of the wackiest hybrids ever made, Big Trouble in Little China isn't merely a parody, but a distinctive film in its own right. This is absurdist humor that makes sense. Everything fits and everything clicks, from the expertly choreographed fight scenes to the fantastical costumes and ornate sets (whose design is cleverly incorporated into the DVD's cheeky computer graphics). Yet this comedy shares a common theme with John Carpenter's horror films: people live in a state of ignorance until they look below the surface of their normal life and confront the hell that exists there. Like Kathryn Bigelow, Carpenter believes that good storytelling involves going to extremes. — Serena Donadoni [printer-friendly version] [see point break pure adrenaline edition dvd and blu-ray and big trouble in little china blu-ray]