Opinion: ‘The King’ is the Ken I Want on Cable
Better Than a Crowbar
Next, we're at Max Brito's clandestine desert fighting compound, meeting our fighters, who are forced to sleep on cots in outdoor barracks, except for Shamrock, who gets a double-wide trailer of his own. Is that how you accommodate the world's deadliest hand-to-hand combatants, Mr. Trejo? And wait... is that Kool Keith? Yes, oddball hip-hop legend Kool Keith shows up in a tan suit, white turtleneck and bowler hat to pay his fighter's entrance fee into the tournament. He even introduces himself as Kool Keith and Danny Trejo's scheming assistant tells him, “Ooh, I like your records.” First of all, what the hell? Second of all, these fighters are paying for the chance to die? Kool Keith's fighter is named Mage, but it is disappointing because he looks nothing like a wizard, but more like the bad boy in a new jack swing group.
Danny Trejo hosts a meet-and-greet at his hacienda for all the fighters and special guests, despite the fact that this event is illegal and you'd figure being inconspicuous would be wise. Nonetheless, Shamrock shows up, looking impossibly yoked, nearly ripping out of his suit while sizing up Rockman. They fought to a draw years ago, back when the sport was pure, and now there's beef to be settled. Shammy gets pissed at Trejo, but ol' “Machete” quickly gets the upper hand on him by shooting a laser pointer at his neck. In kayfabe, Shamrock has some sort of electronic chip in his neck like a dystopian prison thriller, explaining how Trejo's dollar store laser pointer paralyzes him on his knees.
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They're literally fighting for their lives, but everyone in this movie is remarkably chill about having sex with fellow competitors before competing, nevermind conventional wisdom about sex before sports. One female character, Gail (no surname), bemoans entering the tournament because she's a point karate fighter; Trejo and his evil assistant previously mocked her “no contact” background and chose her to humiliate her. I'm going to assume after having sex with one of her fellow competitors, she was not excited to hear the words “No one wants to see a beautiful woman die.” Also, it's too bad that no one wants to see a beautiful woman die, because a few scenes later, she's killed by a terrible Asian fu-manchu stereotype. Counter punch, knee to the face, racist caricature kills a woman in the cage and he is ecstatic about it.
Shamrock hits a corkscrew leg whip on a guy then breaks his arm
with a kimura. A trashy ponytailer named The Jackal whips a razor
out in the cage and slashes the throat of Kool Keith's charge.
Trejo threatens The Jackal, which is fantastic, since it allows
Shamrock to interject with an overly enthusiastic “Nuh uh, he's
mine!” Shamrock ends up ripping off The Jackal's black belt, tying
it over his eyes, kicking Jackal's ass, then anticlimactically
removing the ad hoc blindfold before finishing him off. Why
put it on if you're gonna just take it off before the finish?
Romance update: Rockman is staring to get hot and heavy with Sgt. Kimberley Pepatone, a cop from New Jersey. They have sex and she tells Rockman that he's the reason she got into martial arts. The next day, they share a loving gaze while stretching out their hammies in the locker room area, preparing to beat other human beings to death. At one point, Sgt. Pepa declares, “I'm a cop, cops don't maim people!” This is after she basically beats a convict-turned-contestant to death in the cage. Bonus: the convict was busted out of prison by the corrupt John McCain stand-in. Double bonus: the convict killed Sgt. Pepa's partner. Triple WTF bonus: the convict raped Pepatone after killing her partner. This part of the film is certainly the juncture at which you're most likely to question what the hell you're doing with your time.
So, basically, Trejo had Kenny Shams kill Dice Man's little brother to induce him into the terminal combat tournament where he planned to make major money off of the Rockman-King rematch. King owes him a $5 million gambling debt, so Trejo (or Brito, if we're following the script) took him and his wife hostage until he works the debt off, explaining both the chip in his neck as well as why he's acting so angry and erratic (like he's Ken Shamrock or something).
On the final day of the tournament, Rockman and King offer to fight head-to-head, sparing their fellow semifinalists, Sgt. Pepatone and Steele Manheim, who sadly isn't even German. Trejo's brainy assistant pushes him to acquiesce to ensure fans get the big fight they crave, he does, Rockman and King swerve him and have a worked fight while their other two accomplices destroy the satellite link and computers. King's enslaved wife casually grabs Trejo's Desert Eagle off of his hip and puts three slugs in his chest.
This leads to the final shootout scene and you better believe it is the best part of the film. Rockman and King run out of the cage in their fight gear, which is fine for Rockman since he's in black karate pants. However, Shamrock is running through crossfire, 240 pounds of explosive muscle in a pair of tiny red vale tudo shorts and kneepads, airing out fools with an assault rifle. After Rambo'ing his way through Trejo's paramilitary athletic commission, Shamrock picks up a grenade launcher and flatly muses, “Better than a crowbar!” before blowing up a fence. This is strange, as the explosion only blows the lock off and Manheim then kicks the fence door open in melodramatic slow motion. Fortunately, Shamrock makes up for it moments later by dropping to a knee and using his bazooka to blow away some ne'er-do-wells, still wearing kneepads and red underwear.
They all escape to safety and hopefully, sanity. Iaquinta goes back to wearing silk pajamas and taking suburban parents' money at his dojo. Sgt. Pepa appears in his gym, she bows to him and he kisses her fist-in-palm. Presumably, no one is charged with any crimes and The King has conquered his gambling addiction. It is so corny, it is so delicious.
In spite of its 3.8 rating on IMDB, “Champions” is a perfect late-night cable morsel. You don't have to use your brain to watch it, but it is 10 times more fun if you do. For MMA fans, the novelty of Shamrock alone might be enough, nevermind all the historical wink-wink-nudge-nudge references. Hell, Trejo's assistant even says Manheim Steele is “boring” according to the complains on the “newsgroups,” meaning that this film accurately diagnoses the online MMA community 17 years in the past. It's “Bloodsport,” with worse striking, better grappling and a Kool Keith cameo. It not-so-subtly sewers John McCain. Danny Trejo wearing Biggie Smalls shirts. Ken Shamrock wearing red undies, wielding a grenade launcher.
In October 2006, about 5.7 million viewers tuned into Spike to see a hopeless Shamrock get mangled by Tito Ortiz for a third time. This Friday, millions will turn on Spike to see Kimbo Slice do something similar. On the day-to-day MMA grind, I'm forced to think about Shamrock in the present context, question how an athletic commission sanctions this bout, how farcical it will be when Shamrock likely goes down off of the first serious exchange and how the internet will react. I cross my fingers it's the last fight for a 51-year-old man who has taxed his body well beyond those years.
Even if I throw on classic, pioneer era MMA and watch him make Bas Rutten scream out from a kneebar, my mind is locked in that prison. What Shamrock does now is purely transactional, it's commerce, he's playing a role. Unfortunately, he's not getting age-appropriate roles. When he fights in 2015, Ken Shamrock is still asked to play “The World's Most Dangerous Man.” He can't do it. He can't possibly fake it. We, the audience, can't possibly suspend disbelief. The hail mary leglock that he needs each and every time is such a distant memory you question whether or not it ever actually existed, whether or not this was ever truly a man of danger.
I love “Champions” for that. Ken Shamrock is “The King,” not “The World's Most Dangerous Man.” Seeing him dominate the world of terminal combat, I'm not forced to think about the fourth instalment in the series that they made when Shamrock was old, struggled with a bunch of real dialogue and was then killed by a racist stereotype with a single blow. No matter how many times I watch it, he never ages, he's always built like an over-inflated Adonis, he still uses a grenade launcher in a speedo, he rescues his wife and saves the day, even with a chip in his neck, although he still does sabotage the main event, not unlike the first Kimbo attempt.
Weird as it is, it takes an action-martial arts B movie to remind me that Shamrock was.once upon a time, an incredible athlete, a true MMA icon and the sport's first true crossover superstar, even beyond Royce Gracie. In “Champions,” Shamrock is the fighter and not the promoter. When his wife shoots Danny Trejo, he doesn't wryly smile over his corpse and say, “We made a lot of money together, it was all business.”
Friday night, any night, I'd rather see The King on cable.
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