Return to the 25th Chamber

While I'm on the subject of music reviews and timeless, influential rap albums, I still have a few weeks before time runs out on the 25th anniversary of Wu-Tang Clan's debut album, Enter the Wu-Tang (36 Chambers). In my last blog entry, I highlighted House of Pain's debut album as a game-changer. Well, if that one was a game-changer, I'm pretty sure Wu-Tang's debut made the Earth stop spinning for a day or two. I was in the early days of high school when the album dropped in 1993, and when I returned to my hometown for the summer, everyone was going nuts over the freshness and ingenuity of the Wu-Tang Clan. They were the first and only rap group to successfully merge old kung-fu movies with neighborhood violence and modern hip hop.

The 9 members of Wu-Tang Clan, RZA, GZA, Raekwon the Chef, Inspectah Deck, Ghostface Killah, Masta Killa, U-God, Method Man, and Ol' Dirty Bastard, affectionately referred to their own hometown of Staten Island as Shaolin. Shaolin was a staple of the old Shaw Brothers kung-fu flicks the group was raised on, a sacred place far away from the rest of Chinese civilization where true enlightenment and kung-fu styles were often achieved.

RZA essentially created the group, first recruiting his cousins GZA and ODB, hand-picking the other members for the unique styles they could bring to the group. He did this similar to the movie, The Five Venoms, which the group often referenced on their debut album. "Bring Da Ruckus" is the first song on the record, possibly the best encapsulation of the Wu-Tang sound overall, complete with movie clips about the Shaolin and Wu-Tang styles, most of the group members being introduced, and a beat RZA created with a plastic bucket and a microphone. Wu-Tang was genius and innovative in creation, from everything down to their logo, and common kung-fu terms like chambers and swords were metaphorical for the overall message the rappers were trying to relay.

Another highlight on the album is "Da Mystery of Chessboxin'," a highly metaphorical track featuring U-God, Inspectah Deck, Raekwon, Method Man, ODB, Ghostface, and Masta Killa. The song features a sample of traditional Chinese music, and it's the one that initially introduced me to Wu-Tang through the music video. I rushed right out to buy the album and I was literally the only one in my town representing Wu-Tang and its kung-fu prowess meets street slang style. As far as old kung-fu classics, Inspectah Deck represented the municipal policeman who reveals himself in the end (ala The Five Venoms), Method Man represented the disciplined but rough around the edges monk on the hook, ODB represented the drunken master, and Ghostface represented the incognito, slashing style of an assassin.

The group's next single was "C.R.E.A.M," which stood  for "Cash Rules Everything Around Me," a look into the group's Shaolin (Staten Island) upbringing. It was undoubtedly the biggest single from the album, and is probably still the most well-known Wu-Tang Clan hit. The song is further filled with homages to their hometown, of course disguised as the legendary kung-fu Mecca, and despite RZA's connection to the 5% Nation of Islam, he and the boys stick close to their street tough narrative and how it might correspond with the cultural traits of the Chinese. They spend time introducing and reintroducing the Clan members on "Clan in Da Front" and in album intermissions, giving us a full view of their diverse, unique rhyming styles.

Method Man was surprisingly the heartthrob of the group, the gruff but somehow silky smooth ruffian, the most frequent hook chanter on the record. His style slightly compliments that of ODB, and like the drunken master of the Wu, his voice is immediately recognizable. He was such a charismatic member of the group that he got his own theme song with the number nine track, "Method Man," and was the first of the Clan to receive a solo record deal. After Enter the Wu-Tang, key members of the Clan branched out for solo efforts, all signing with different record labels while maintaining their initial Wu-Tang deal as a way of dividing and conquering the rap game. Next followed Raekwon, featuring Ghostface Killah, then came Ol' Dirty Bastard, and finally GZA - whose "Liquid Swords" album, produced of course by RZA, is one of my personal favorites.

Wu-Tang Clan have released seven studio albums as a group, and while 2014's A Better Tomorrow comes in at a close second, Enter the Wu-Tang (36 Chambers) was no doubt their best. There was something about the brander newness of the sound and the concept. There was something about the group's varied styles and approaches to the mic, about their clever ways of associating hip hop references to those of Shaw Brothers kung-fu flicks. There was something about their love for these movies because of the brotherhood of the protagonists who always had each other's back, no matter what. No one member has ever publicly beefed with another, only reuniting year after year to drop new albums, not to mention all the guest spots the members do on each other's solo albums. RZA created something special when he formed Wu-Tang Clan, and their debut album is one that has no doubt left it's mark on American hip hop culture forever.

The House That Pain Built

House of Pain was not the first rap group I was into when I was a teenager, but they were certainly the one that made the biggest impression on me. They were tough and they were Irish street hooligans. They were the Dropkick Murphys of the hip hop game. Their first album was such a success that they inspired later rappers like Slaine, Lordz of Brooklyn, Limp Bizkit, and Atmosphere. HOP came to me toward the end of my freshman year, when I was jamming to Black Sheep, Das EFX, and A Tribe Called Quest. HOP brought something new that I could certainly relate to, being a hip hop junkie suburban white kid.

House of Pain (Everlast, Danny Boy, DJ Lethal) came to us out of the greater Los Angeles area. Their debut album, a self-titled effort, came to me via music video, the one for their first single, "Jump Around." Right after I saw it, I rushed out to buy the cassette, thumping to it day and night in my bedroom in the stead of the car I didn't own yet. The beats were hard, the vocals were tough and gritty, and the musical production was akin to what I'd heard on Cypress Hill's debut album, released two years before. There was good reason for that. DJ Muggs, who currently produces for a mysterious band in the vein of Portishead called Cross My Heart Hope To Die, was the Cypress DJ, and responsible for every composition on that album. Muggs had met Everlast through Cypress front man B-Real, and the Soul Assassins, a collective of three rap groups (Cypress Hill, House of Pain, and Funkdoobiest) was born. Muggs produced tracks for all three groups, digging through his extensive collection of old records to create classic guitar, piecing horn, and old sample-driven beats for all three groups. The screeching horn, the enduring leitmotif that made "Jump Around" what is it, was a concoction of Muggs, making the sound and the song instantly recognizable. Everlast, Danny Boy, Lethal (who produced a handful of tracks on the debut), and Muggs came as a four-man collective to rock an impressive debut that slowly began to top the charts. It was like nothing else released at the time, Celtic staples meshed with Muggs' old Irish pub feel digging in its claws for the long haul. House of Pain helped give me an identity. I owned four of their t-shirts, stickers, hats, records, and cassettes. Suffice it to say, I was a committed super fan.

In the two years between albums, House contributed to the Who's the Man soundtrack, with a hard-hitting, Lethal-produced bruiser appropriately titled "Who's the Man." While the movie was funny but sort of garbage, the track was stellar, with Everlast and Danny Boy painting a brutal picture of their brushes with the law, and their time spent in the pen. HOP also found the time to collaborate with metal band Helmet for the rap meets rock soundtrack of Judgment Night. The House of Pain contribution to the song comes in midway through, Helmet and HOP splitting equal air time on the track. Everlast, whose real name is Erik Schrody, even appeared in the movie as a henchman for fellow Irish mob baddie, Denis Leary.

In early 1994, the group headed back to the studio. I was really into the NBA at the time, and there was a monthly publication called Slam Magazine. I first heard, or saw, the news of their new album in the Spring of 1994 in a full-page ad in the magazine. I remember I went home, tore out the album cover art ad, and quickly posted it on the wall of my bedroom in giddy anticipation of what the group had next in store.

When I went in the record shop that summer to buy the new album, Same As It Ever Was, I saw a poster advertising for it on the shop wall. Everlast had grown out his hair and Danny Boy had dyed his blonde. They looked like a rock band in the guise of impressive rappers, Lethal constantly playing the background role with his Russian/Latvian descent.

The first track is the best on the album. In the two years away from their first album, rumors began to swirl about Everlast's fatal overdosing. On the first track to the new album, he squashed all the false reports with "Back From the Dead," a heavy, thundering, old school horn-driven track in which Everlast was definitely back with a gruffer voice. Muggs again showed crate-digging expertise on the tune, just as he did throughout the entirety of the record. Lethal was still a protege to Muggs and produced tracks on his own like "All That" and "Where I'm From." Muggs' style was still immediately recognizable, boasting old guitar riffs and a roaring horn section. Their first and only single from the album, which was wholly less successful than the debut, was "On Point," a solid video but an ultimately ineffective effort that never could rouse the public like "Jump Around."

After Same As It Ever Was, the group contributed a couple of tracks to a couple of soundtracks, namely "Beef Jerky" to The Jerky Boys movie and "Punch Drunk" to the Eddie movie. Both movies were silly duds, but the tracks were something to look forward to in lieu of an upcoming album, which would certainly drop in 1996. I was reading through a hip hop magazine one day and came across an interview with B-Real from Cypress Hill. I liked Cypress, but I thought maybe since he was part of the Soul Assassins, he might mention something about the new House of Pain record. Boy, did he ever. He mentioned that Everlast and the boys were no longer members of the Soul Assassins. Muggs had kicked them out for Danny Boy's creative direction of dyed hair and leather pants and Harley Davidsons, claiming it wasn't hip hop enough. Just a few year later, Muggs produced guitar-driven tracks for both Cypress and other projects, so I think it was a hasty decision. With Muggs no longer at the helm of production, the task was left up to Lethal on House of Pain's 3rd and final album, Truth Crushed to the Earth Shall Rise Again.

The new album was the group least Irish effort, as they attempted to reach back out to a more hip hop audience, featuring guests like Sadat X from Brand Nubian and Guru from Gangstarr. They brought on the guys they grew up rapping with, their childhood friends, the Scheme Team, featuring Cockney O'Dire and the Divine Styler. While it was a clever gimmick, it was a weak decision in the grand scheme of things, as it was the album that had the least straight up House of Pain feel to it. Regardless, it did have its standout tracks, like "The Have Nots," "Fed Up," and "Pass Jinn." Everlast showcased his conversion to Islam on this one, often referencing his daily struggles with his Jinn, or a Middle Eastern demon who taunts those who've achieved faith in the religion.

The group gave their best effort, but they just weren't the House of Pain we all knew and loved anymore. Everlast had changed himself to reach a new audience, Danny Boy was often messed up on drugs, appearing on only two songs on the record, and Lethal, while he had shown us that there was life after Muggs and that he'd become a capable producer, lacked that special punch that made "Jump Around" what it was. Lethal was the first to find success after the official break-up of House of Pain, when he joined nu metal outfit Limp Bizkit as their DJ. Limp get a lot of flack, mainly because of the exploits of front man Fred Durst, but their debut album was stellar, with Lethal proving he belonged.

Everlast picked up a guitar and headed back to the studio under the alias of Whitey Ford, creating a hip hop meets Johnny Cash sort of sound that put him on the map again. His debut album, "Whitey Ford Sings the Blues," also featured several straight hip hop tracks, with "Painkillers" chronicling his heart attack and near-death experience. Everlast was again pioneering a new style, and while I initially bought into it, gone were the days of Irish bar fights and screechy horns. House of Pain and Muggs formed a team and created something irreplaceable on those first two albums. Everlast released several albums in this new genre of music before the he, Danny Boy, and Lethal reunited one more time to create a House of Pain for a new generation.

La Coka Nostra was a group who dropped on the scene in 2004, consisting of Everlast, Danny Boy, Lethal, fellow Irish-American rapper Slaine, and Ill Bill. While I was excited to see a resurgence of the original HOP lineup, I wasn't crazy about the name, as it lent a reference to cocaine - something I felt that the old crew was better than. Whether they indulged or not, it was not the House of Pain I knew. I appreciated the subtle reference to La Cosa Nostra, but Italian and Italian-American organized crime syndicate. I dealt with the other other aspect as well as I could, listening to wild tales of street fights, cash-stacking, and allusions to old school House of Pain. Everlast was back, with a few new members to throw at the crowd of devoted fans. Like most of the House of Pain records, Danny Boy rapped intermittently, focusing mainly on logo design, branding, and distribution.

The members of House of Pain left their impact on the music industry. Everlast was the most successful, the most paramount figure of the group throughout its tenure, going on to solo careers and resurrecting the rap group with a slight twist. To the common hip hop head, House of Pain is synonymous with "Jump Around." If one were to ask how many albums the group put out, there would probably be a lot of shoulder shrugging. They fell further and further into obscurity in the years after the hit single faded, doing what they could in a rap game that they changed forever with their Irish-American street tough style.

Anthems for a Black Widow

You ever hear an album that tells you a short story as you're listening to it? Recently, I've been listening to some of the CDs I still own, and Portishead's self-titled effort had its turn in my changer. Re-listening to it after so many years of hiatus, I noticed new things about the album that I never had before, namely the mood and the sense of duality it possessed. The album is elegant and dastardly in one, painting a picture of the elusive femme on the run, searching the day for a new victim, and spending the night questioning herself and her existence. I'm not sure if that's what Portishead had in mind when they created this 1997 crooner, but we often interpret songs and albums our own way when really listening to them. This is probably more of what the band had in mind than anything else.

The album begins with one of the best tracks, and certainly the most sinister in "Cowboys." Much like Bjork's 1995 hit, "Army of Me," "Cowboys" promises doom and dread upon an unnamed recipient with lines like "But don't despair, this day will be the damnedest day if, oh, you take these things from me." This is like the anthem of the black widow woman of the night, realizing who she is deep down, and daring anyone to stop her. The song has just enough of a cynical sway to set the tone for the tracks to come, which are both often romantic and gloomy in one. The hip hop record scratches that come toward the end make this tune distinctive and unique, a subtle departure from the band's 1994 debut.

Track two, "All Mine," comes in sexy and full of sway, subtle drum machine beats with a tambourine to accompany the snare hit. The track also features a stark and triumphant horn section along with the beats, and a bass line that drives the verse into a silkier direction. The track conjures images of a smoky lounge, a femme fatale exchanging glances with an unsuspecting victim - especially when the guitar enters the piece towards the end of the track. It's sinister and singular, soaring to break the mood of the nearly sweet sway of the song. It's definitely a mood-changer, which to me accentuates the duality of the femme fatale often seen in movie and TV.

"Undenied" is up next. Its melancholy chimes begin immediate and imminently, serving as the precursor for the grainy record effect added to the smooth beat, borrowed from all the best elements of a mid-90s hip hop track. "Undenied" is an unconventional crooner, asking all the important questions like "Where does my heart belong?" The femme has allowed herself to get too close to her victim and is now second-guessing her intentions and her feelings on this track, a calculated decompression of true sentiment. The grainy record effect is excellent, as is the beat, as is the solemnity of the lyrics themselves.

"Half Day Closing" sounds like the morning after, hungover and indifferent, cynical and off-kilter, but somehow smooth enough. The trip hop team of Geoff Barrow and Adrian Utley employed an interesting strategy here with what sounds like an actual drum set, knocking around a clumsy and ad libbed, high hat-heavy beat to match a gritty bass line. Vocalist Beth Gibbons ponders, "In the days, the golden days, when everybody knew what they wanted, they ain't here today." The mood is cynical and nihilistic for sure, pining for the days when things were easier. This song conjures images of sitting by the window on an overcast morning, steaming cup of coffee in hand, blanket strewn around shoulders, pondering what was, and what could have been.

"Over" is gloomy from the start, a lonely, singular acoustic guitar plucking an anthem of doom and nefarious intention. "Oh, this uncertainty is taking me over," croons Gibbons over the heavy blitzkrieg beats, record scratches,and thundering bass line. Towards the end of the track, an electric guitar enters the fray to add to the suspense of the track. I first owned the cassette of this album years and years ago, and "Over" was the last song on the first side - a mood piece designed to wrap up the graying, sinister tone set throughout the first 5 tracks of the album.

The next is "Humming," a relatively benign track that's all about the ghostly wales, the chamber music bass line, and the sticky beats, providing more inner-banter and subtle regret from the unrepented black widow. "It's been so long that I can't explain, it's been so wrong right now, so wrong." She knows that her livelihood is detrimental, but does nothing to stop it, as she's nothing but an elusive creature of habit. Beth Gibbons wears this masquerade disguise well. Every track on the album is either sexy, melancholic, or menacing, which proves that Portishead had a firm grasp on the short story they were attempting to tell back in 1997.

"Mourning Air" is a distant cousin of "Half Day Closing," but conveys a soothing, sadder sound. It's sensual prose hangs over the top of a lukewarm beat, horns and bass adding to the sordid soiree. A lonely guitar comes in toward the end again, a leitmotif constructed by the band in order to tell a story, and to convey a mood. The setting is cold and dismal, unsettling despite the familiar, otherwise warmer elements, creating a dissonance to the unassuming track. It brings a certain chill with it, but not necessarily a comfortable one. "Should I feel a moment with you? To softly whisper I crave nothing else so much?" This seems a testament to the widow slightly falling for her victim, but having a hard time admitting it to herself.

"Seven Months" and "Elysium" are aggressive, menacing bookends between the softer reassurances of "Only You," which shares several commonalities with "All Mine." "Seven Months" is a haunting, malignant reminder that the femme fatale is alive and well, immediately crying "How can I forgive you after all that I've seen? Silently whisper while my heart wants to scream." "Elysium" sounds more like a Wu-Tang or RZA track when it starts, until Beth Gibbons soars in to remind us "You can't decide how I feel, and you can't decide for me." "Only You" is pretty one, another barroom ballad that features the best of trip hop with samples, record scratches, guitar, and effects on its way to belting out that "It's only you who can tear me apart, and it's only you who turn my wooden heart."

The last track, "Western Eyes," is probably my favorite on the album. It gives out a smooth, smoky, piano bar sort of vibe. It makes the most of its minimalist effort because sometimes, less is more. It comes across as indifferent, resigned, with lines delivered in the most listless manner possible. "With western eyes and serpent's breath, we lay our own conscience to rest, but I'm aching at the view, yes, I'm breaking at the seams just like you." The beat is soothing but cold, smooth but prickly, with a lonely piano belting out a composition of solitude. At the end, we're treated to a sample from a scratchy old record sample to the tune of "I feel so cold on hooker and gin...this mess we're in." If that doesn't scream debutantes and debonairs in a smoky lounge somewhere, I don't know what does.

Portishead's self-titled sophomore album is an anthem for the mystery woman of the night, the flashy, elusive, dangerous femme fatale sometimes seen in films like Eye of the Beholder with Ewan McGregor and Ashley Judd. The band's debut album ranks among my top 20, but their second deserves another shot for the flowing, gloomy, and belligerent moods it attempts to, and succeeds at conveying. There is a favorite book of mine, Fake. Liar. Cheat. that I thought about reviewing on this blog. It's antagonist, Claire, is certainly one of these dangerous, mysterious women, with feelings and calculations as wishy-washy as a cat.

Eastern Expansion

Now streaming on Amazon Prime is the sweeping Russian epic, Viking. I've long been looking forward to this one, as it is very unique as far as Norse history goes. Vikings from Norway and Denmark raided and set up settlements in England, Ireland, Scotland, France, Greenland, and Iceland. Vikings from Sweden headed East, trading up and down the Volga River in Russia until they finally made Novgorod, and Kiev, the now capital of the Ukraine, their homes.

Of these early Swedish Vikings was a man named Rurik, a chieftain whom the Eastern Slavic tribes asked to be their leader. From this came the Rurikid Dynasty, which ruled Russia until the early 17th-century. Vladimir I was born of this dynasty. He is the great-grandson of Rurik and the star of Viking. The Viking rulers and their descendants were called the Rus, from which the name Russia and Belarus are derived. In the movie, Vladimir has two half-brothers, Oleg and Yaropolk. Yaropolk wants to rule Novgorod and Kievan Rus himself, so he kills Oleg to become ruler, even though Novgorod was granted to Vladimir by his father. In the movie, Oleg's death seems accidental, or at least one in which Yarolpolk isn't responsible for. In any case, Yaropolk is painted as the bad guy, the usurper, who Vladimir will not stand by and watch become Grand Duke of both capitals.

Vladimir is meanwhile banished to Sweden, where he still has cousins. With the help of Viking chieftain, Khevding, Vladimir assembles an army of Viking mercenaries to strike back at Yaropolk and take back Novgorod and Kiev.

Up to this point, we sort of see Vladimir as a hero, a gallant warrior who commands a loyal army of Vikings, even when he confusingly takes his first wife, Rogneda, by force. Yaropolk is seen as the bad guy, who reluctantly agrees to a private meeting with Vladimir. This is when a crew of Vikings emerges from the shadows to stab Yaropolk repeatedly, leaving him bloody and confused and dying. Vladimir seems to feel at least a little remorse for killing his brother, but he is now the undisputed Grand Duke of Novgorod.

Varyazhko, a loyal to soldier to Yaropolk, won't relinquish the crown so easily, as he swears vengeance on Vladimir and army of Vikings. Here is where the lines start to become a little more blurred. What Varyazhko is doing seems legit, and we're forced to look at Vladimir in a new light. Was he right to murder his brother in cold blood, lured in by the promises of a peace treaty? Varyazhko assembles the help of a Turkish nomadic horde, who greatly resemble the Mongols. They are good on their horses, even better with their bows and arrows, and they fight at Varyazhko's side through one battle after another. They are cast as the answer to the Viking army on the other side of the brewing war, which certainly brings to mind the class I took at Wyoming on the Mongol Empire.

Meanwhile, Vladimir wants to take another wife - a wealthy, royal Byzantine princess, and agrees to do the dirty work of the "Romans" as payment for the political and matrimonial alliance. He already has Rogneda, and has long had his eye on Yaropolk's Greek wife, Irina. She is calm, astute and wise, representing Byzantine values in a Slavic-Scandinavian netherworld of grit, mud, and blood.




Vladimir becomes a little more tyrannical with every conquest, and he starts to fall into serious debt to his Viking mercenaries from across the pond. At one point as he's trying to take a city as a favor to the Byzantines, Vladimir has the Viking long ships beached on the top of a rolling hill so they won't be tempted to head home. This is when Varyazhko and the steppe horde attack. When the Vladimir and the Vikings see what's happening, the hill and the valley below quickly become a mud bowl when a downpour strikes. Vladimir and his Norsemen heave the ship from the blocks and course them down the muddy hill toward the waiting nomadic warriors commanded by Varyazhko. This made for quite the epic battle scene, captured here by the director's cameras.

What happens next is what some critics called a bit of Christian propaganda. After reclaiming the last stronghold city held by Varyazhko, Vladimir admires the cathedral, where he is approached by the holy man who guides Irina along in her spiritual walk. This serves a turning point in the history of the Kievan Rus. Vladimir breaks down and cries, confessing and repenting of each and every one of the sins he's committed in reclaiming the lands usurped by his brother. He even has a final fight with on the beach with his best friend and comrade, Rogvolod, over his new conversion, with Vladimir swearing to himself and to God that his killing days are over. He is the first Grand Duke of Novgorod and the Prince of the Kievan Rus to convert to Christianity, and subsequently converts his entire kingdom.

Viking takes us from the wintry hinterland's of Russia to the steppes of Asia Minor to the sunny tributaries of Russia's most renowned rivers. Viking is a sweeping epic, the most expensive movie ever made in the history of Russia. Upon its release, Viking was a major point of contention for Russia and the Ukraine, being that both countries claim their national identity from the exploits and the influence of the Kievan Rus. We even get to see a Viking Berserker in action, a Viking special forces operative, wielding a brutal hammer and a bearskin headdress. He even goes through the pre-battle ritual of drinking a hallucinatory cocktail that fuels the blood rage needed for war. The Viking contingent even encourage Vladimir to take part with them, blurring his vision and muddying his senses.



The battle scenes are bloody and visually popping and the drama is high, with Yaropolk's untimely death coming fast and full of tragedy like a Shakespearean play. The dialogue is hard to follow if you watch it in its original Russian, which I did for the sake of authenticity. There have only been 2 movies made about the Rus, the other being The 13th Warrior. Viking may be a propaganda piece depending on your opinion, but that makes it no less entertaining for a non-partisan Westerner like myself.

Top 10 Antiheroes

I like my heroes complicated, flawed and tortured, gritty but with at some redeeming qualities. We shouldn't always like our antiheroes, and we should question the way we feel about them at some point or another. They own the true essence of yin and yang, the light and the dark, the good and the bad, the great duality of man. Below is a list of the 10 best in movies and TV.

10. John Creasy (played by Denzel Washington in Man On Fire)
John Creasy is a retired CIA agent who reluctantly takes a job protecting a young girl named Pita in Mexico City, a location running rampant with cartel ransom kidnappings. He's all business at first, but more time with Pita sees their relationship blossom, turning Creasy into a father figure and a best friend to the young girl. He attends her swim meets, coaches her on the basics, protects her to and fro, and she even names her stuffed animal bear after him. He doesn't sound so bad, right? Well, when Pita is targeted by the cartel, with the help of some crooked Mexico City cops, Creasy is shot and left for dead while Pita is snatched up the bad guys. When the money drop, arranged by Pita's wealthy, crooked father, is hijacked, the cartel shrugs their shoulders and kills poor Pita.

After he recovers, Creasy is no less shaken by Pita's death than he was when he first found out. After visiting her room and reading through her diary, riddled with tokens of love from the little girl, Creasy sets himself on a deadly mission for answers - and to make anyone associated with Pita's death pay with their life, including the cartel and the crooked cops. Why is Creasy an antihero? He cuts off the fingers of the cops, places explosives up their hind parts, and blows up cars with a bazooka in the middle of broad daylight. With the death of Pita, which Creasy comes to find out was staged, he becomes a man on fire, setting into motion a bloody chain of events that end assuredly with a pound of flesh.




9. Clarence Worley (played by Christian Slater in True Romance)
I feel like not enough people know about the fine piece of work that is True Romance. Clarence Worley is immediately likable, showing us his love for kung-fu movies, comic books, and Elvis. He loves Elvis so much that the King, played by Val Kilmer, often shows up in Clarence's overactive imagination to give him pep talks. Clarence's boss hires a call-girl, Alabama, to show up at the movies and give young Clarence the night of his life. The problem is, Alabama is looking for a way out, and she falls head over heels in love with Clarence, and vice versa. But in order for Alabama to leave her past behind, Clarence has to confront her pimp, Drexl Spivey, who is one mean baddie. After Clarence upends him, he grabs a bag of what he thinks is Alabama's clothes and belongings. Turns out, it's actually a bag full of cocaine that belongs to the Coccotta crime family and the notorious gangster, Blue Lou Boyle.

Clarence and Alabama soon take off from Detroit to LA, where they meet up with up-and-coming actor and friend, Dick Gregory. Dick soon points Clarence in the direction of a Hollywood, big-shot director, who is looking score the boatload of the cocaine Clarence found back in Detroit. The police soon catch wind of the deal and set up a sting operation which pits Clarence against the police, the Italian mob, and a pair of Hollywood bodyguards, while Alabama struggles in her own battle against a mob henchman. Why is Clarence an antihero? Because he's certainly lovable to the audience and Alabama, though he totes a massive case of cocaine from one side of the country to another, has a shootout with cops, and murders a dreadlocked scumbag for the love of his life.




8. John Smith (played by Bruce Willis in Last Man Standing)
Last Man Standing is by far my favorite Bruce Willis vehicle, his jungle war movie Tears of the Sun coming in at a distant second. The movie is a Roaring Twenties delight in the guise of a spaghetti western. Italian and Irish mobs based out of Chicago compete for booze shipments during Prohibition in the midst of a desolate Texas town. Bruce Willis, going by the name he gives to the mobsters, John Smith, plays both sides of the gang war, trading alliances in order to make some money while he's hiding away from troubles in the big city. Smith has done some nefarious things, a circumstance which begged for the prequel we never got. He's good with his twin pistols, using them to vanquish the mobsters on behalf of the women he meets and silently swears to protect. The neutral town sheriff tells Smith at one point, "When you go down, it'll be over a skirt."

Smith first kills one of the Irishmen, a happening that surprisingly impresses the boss, Doyle. While he's trying to hire Smith, the lone gunman goes to work for Stassi and the Italians instead, where he meets the starlet charms of Lucy. He sees her behind Strassi's back, which may serve as the precursor for Strassi and Smith's falling out. This is when Smith goes to work for Doyle and Irish. Hickey, a mob goon played by endearing charms of Christopher Walken, is immediately weary of Smith, and with good reason. Smith again proves his allegiance to the victimized femme fatale, a circumstance that puts he, Hickey, and Doyle on a collision course. Why is John Smith an antihero? Yeah, he has his enduring qualities, but did some bad things back in the big city, and he uses people and their agendas for his own gain.




7. Ragnar Lothbrok (played by Travis Fimmel in Vikings)
I sure am glad the History Channel exists in my lifetime, and that they decided to make their only syndicated show about the trials and tribulations of my Nordic ancestors, the Vikings. The show Vikings revolves around the legendary deeds of Norseman Ragnar Lothbrok. In the early seasons, we see the character evolve, tackling the shores of England, the ins and outs of family life, and grappling with the roles of farmer, earl, king, and finally, legend. He takes an English monk named Athelstan captive, only to become his best friend. We watch Ragnar sack new lands, sure, but we also see him tangle with his religion, or lack thereof. By the first season, he is completely loyal to the Norse gods, doing anything and everything to appease them. By his final, he's questioning the existence of god, the Christian god and Odin, resolving that man is ultimately responsible for creating his own fate. It takes Ragnar many wives, many sons, many battle campaigns, and much exposure to other cultures to come to this conclusion, and we get to see every one of them in the show's long-going history.



                                                        Why is Ragnar an antihero? Because he dishonors his wife Lagertha when he shacks up with Swedish princess Auslag. He soon develops a nasty heroin addiction after crossing paths with a Asian slave. He sacks cities and kills his share of rivals, all in the name of plunder and personal glory. You're not human if you aren't mad at Ragnar from time to time, but by the end of his life, after his sons by Lagertha and Auslag have grown to squabble over their father's legacy, Ragnar has life figured out and what's left is a humble man, full of integrity, embracing his fate so that his sons can follow in his footsteps.




6. Jax Teller (played by Charlie Hunnam in Sons of Anarchy)
If there was ever a Ragnar Lothbrok for the modern age, it would be Jax Teller. It's safe to say that motorcycle gangs are the modern version of Vikings, with their scruffy appearances and their Viking ships traded in for roaring Harleys. Jax's father, John, was once the president of SAMCRO, or the Sons of Anarchy Motorcycle Club Redwood Original. Jax grows up through the ranks trying to find a connection with his deceased father, who's best friend, Clay Morrow, has taken over as club president. Tensions eventually come to a head, and Jax becomes the new ruler of the Sons, the grittiest motorcycle club and criminal element in the fictional town of Charming, California. He and Ragnar Lothbrok have a lot in common. Both rule their roost, both question their existence, and both try to lead as normal a family life as they can given all their taboo exploits. Jax murders his share of offenders, orders up more from his loyal brothers, struggles his way through both the internal and external conflicts that plagued the show's tenure.

Why is Jax an antihero? He was very likable, but yes, he occasionally murdered folks, including his own mother. He also occasionally reached out for the nearest extramarital affair, and while we were often angry at the ruggedly handsome president, we still rooted for him in all his charisma and familial loyalty. Jax is a highly-flawed character, but that's probably the most distinguishing feature of the classical antihero. Every decision he makes is in the best interest of his club, to which he shows the most intense amount of loyalty.




5. Marv (played by Mickey Rourke in Sin City)
Marv is a graphic novel character who popped to life in Frank Miller's film adaptation of Sin City. This film was like no other I'd ever seen, gritty and unrelenting in its quest for noir sensibilities. Three different stories were essentially tied into one, with a ragtag crew of seedy characters battling against the corrupt powers that were in a city unsafe for most. Marv was by far the most colorful of these characters, brutal and loyal in his singular mission. He has fallen in love with an angel of a woman named Goldie. She's a prostitute, yes, but she was the first person to show genuine kindness to a bum like Marv. When she is murdered in her sleep, the grizzled warrior takes to the streets to find who did it, and why they did it. This leads him to Goldie's twin sister, Wendy, who helps soft-hearted brute track down the sinister forces responsible.

Why is Marv an antihero? He doesn't have the best attitude about life in general. He grumbles his way here and there, and kills a lot of people on the way to finding Goldie's killer. He basically tells any and every cop to kiss off, begs them to pour on the pain, and murders the bad guys in depraved ways, the most prime example having something to do with a hacksaw. Marv seems like a dangerous guy to know, but you can't help but applaud him for his brutal mission.




4. Eric Draven (played by Brandon Lee in The Crow)
Brandon Lee died tragically, nearly the same way his father, legendary martial artist and philosopher, Bruce Lee, did. That didn't stop him from leaving his legacy behind, with The Crow receiving quite the cult following after his death. The Crow was his breakthrough role, much like Heath Ledger and his Joker. In a scene in which his character is shot, he was really shot by a faulty blank and died hours later in the hospital. Brandon was trained as a martial artist his entire life, but went out of his way leave it out of his role as Eric Draven, attempting to bring a new dynamic to the character.

Why is Eric an antihero? He's a walking dead man. He rises from the grave a year after he and his fiancee are killed in order to dish out street justice toward the ones responsible. He makes a pincushion out of one victim, overdoses another, wires another to an exploding car, and tosses the last out of a multi-story window. Eric is kindhearted toward little girl Sarah and cop friend Albrecht, but ruthless and cold-blooded toward the killers. He's a wanted man, a vigilante, which always puts one just outside arm's reach of the law.





3. Frank Castle (played by John Bernthal in The Punisher)
The Punisher has been brought to the screen many different times. Method actor John Bernthal's latest edition is undoubtedly the best, showing up first in the second season of Netflix's Daredevil, then starring in his own spin-off series. In both, Bernthal plays Frank Castle, an ex-special forces soldier whose family is murdered in front of him. Frank takes revenge on mankind, mostly slaying mafia figures and other criminals with the vast array of weapons at his disposal. His introduction comes simply enough, but it soon puts him on trial for his crimes, landing him in a prison setting where the odds are certainly stacked against him. In his own series, he's witness to an international war crime, and once those responsible find out he's actually alive, they send out the dogs for him.

Why is Frank Castle an antihero? He plays the role of judge, jury, and executioner on the streets, becoming a vigilante for the sake of his murdered family. Is he right? Not really. Do we still like him? Absolutely. He's tough, hard to kill, and protects the innocent as he looks to uncover one plot after another. He slays a whole brood of prison inmates with wooden pokers and prison shanks as they try to murder him. This is hardly the stuff that Captain America is made of.




2. Michael Corleone (played by Al Pacino in The Godfather)
The Godfather was way ahead of its time in terms of portraying an antihero like Michael Corleone. We first see Michael as a US soldier returning from active duty. He's surrounded by his brothers and father, who are all active members of an organized crime ring in New York City. His father, Vito, lives through an assassination attempt, which only pulls Michael into the family business full time. From there, he kills the two men responsible for his father's shooting in a restaurant meeting, goes on the run to Sicily, and returns to take his father's place as the undisputed boss.


Why is Michael an antihero? We care about he and his family from start to finish. Yes, they are members of the mafia, but we get to know them as people, and we begin to admire them for their ruthlessness. When Michael becomes the boss, his killing days are over - well, kind of. He orders up the cold-blooded slayings of the other ruling mafia families while he repents of his sins at Mass, becoming godfather to his infant niece - the one whose father Michael orders strangled to death in the mayhem.




1. Driver (played by Ryan Gosling in Drive)
Maybe I'm a little biased, but Drive is my favorite movie. Gosling plays the role so well, a Hollywood stunt driver by day and getaway driver by night. If that's not duality, I don't know what is. His criminal lifestyle takes a halt when he meets Irene and her young son, Benicio, his next door neighbors. Irene's petty criminal husband has just been released from prison, and it isn't long until he's back to his nefarious ways, indirectly pulling Irene and Benicio into harm's way. This is when Driver (he's so cool, he doesn't need a name) flies into action. He's smitten with Irene and Benicio and will allow nothing bad to happen to them, no matter the cost. The whole time he's on his mission to protect them, he wears silk jacket with a scorpion on the back - his unofficial superhero's costume. He definitely strikes like a scorpion, as Driver gets ultra-violent toward the underworld element.






Why is Driver an antihero? He drives brilliantly as a getaway driver for bank robbers and the criminal element. We know he gets a thrill out of this, but we never see his reaction to it, as Driver is as stone-faced as they come. On a mission to protect Irene, Driver brandishes a hammer to beat bad guy brains in. He also wields a shotgun and a knife here and there, anything it takes to fight off the baddies who're out for Irene and Benicio. This movie is a gory one, and it's usually Driver who's making the blood fly.

The Devil in the Details

The Netflix original film, Errementari: The Blacksmith and the Devil, comes off more like a cautionary tale or a lost fable than a mainstream movie choice. While Netflix offered it up in a dubbed-over English, I chose to watch the film in its original Basque language, in itself a unique mix of Spanish and French, but linguistically independent from both. The film comes off as part Pan's Labyrinth and part Brothers Grimm, a sordid art piece taken from the annals of Basque folklore.

Nineteenth-century Basque Country is a mysterious land filled with rolling hills, picturesque streams, dank taverns, and of course, the Carlist War. This is basically a Spanish civil war, pitting those loyal to Maria Cristina, the wife of King Ferdinand VII and Queen Regent on behalf of their infant daughter, against the Carlists, supporters of Carlos V, brother of Ferdinand. Much of the skirmishes landed in the backwoods of Basque Country, where our story takes place. This little-known piece of history provides the backdrop for an otherworldly piece of folklore, similar to something we at some time or another were read in our childhoods. Much like Pan's Labyrinth, Errementari takes place in midst of a Spanish civil war and offers up supernatural, demimonde delights for an enraptured audience.

The story follows the Blacksmith, an infamous, mysterious man, otherwise known as Patxi, who lives burrowed away in the thickened woods of the territory. He once killed one of Maria Cristina's officers, which made him somewhat of a folk hero and a monstrous cautionary tale to his own countrymen. He's a living ghost story to scare the local children, their parents and the rest of the townies spouting tales of the tormented screams heard coming from the Blacksmith's domicile. The rural setting of the gritty, muddy countryside lends its grim mood and atmosphere to the story, filled with sad, tormented characters, each seemingly chained to their own demons. The whole of the Basque County is racked with strife in the wake of the civil war, making it difficult for any of the flawed characters to find any sort of joy.

When government officials are sent out to round up the Blacksmith for his murder some year earlier, we're given a glimpse at his abode. It's an alarming hollow he's constructed for himself, consisting of splintering wood, rusty metal, spikes, chains, animal traps, flames, and iron crosses. The ramshackle fence is riddled with the international symbol of Christendom, which begs the question - what form do Patxi's devils take on exactly? The government troops are buffoons, but when they attack the Blacksmith in his home, they walk away from the skirmish with the severest limp. The Blacksmith doesn't want to be bothered, and repeatedly warns the men to leave before the carnage ensues. This essentially leads us to our heroine, the young Usue. Both the names Patxi and Usue are hardly Spanish or French in origin, which shows just how unique the Basque language and culture is despite its border-straddling location.

Patxi's devil isn't exactly THE devil, but a demon by the name of Sartael. He's low on the totem pole back in Hell, especially now that he's being held captive by the grizzled Blacksmith, tortured and humiliated. Patxi owes Sartael his soul, but based on a tragic technicality, Patxi has refused to give up the ghost. Patxi blames Sartael for the death of his wife, and repeatedly tortures the shape-shifting demon for it.

A sad, lonely, orphaned Usue eventually finds her way into the path of the Blacksmith after fighting with the local bullies, the ones who torment her in the wake of her mother's suicide. She never knew her mother, a circumstance that connects her with the morbid, cryptic Blacksmith. Usue first crosses paths with him as he buries the body of an unfortunate government official. When she finds her way into Patxi's lair, she's tricked by Sartael into setting him free from his iron cage. Local search parties to find the missing girl soon ensue, as do more tragic deaths and visionary journeys into the depths of Hell. The Blacksmith goes to great lengths to protect Usue from evil, and they don't know until the end that they are connected by a local woman who hung herself in heartbreak. Sartael even turns out to be better than we all think, seeing as how he's taken an unlikely liking to the sweet, innocent Usue.

Errementari: The Blacksmith and the Devil is a gloomy, beautifully-shot masterpiece. We're given glimpses into the hellish lives of the characters, and even more visionary glimpses into Hell itself. Questions abound throughout the film about whether or not our characters' loved ones occupy Hell, and how they might be able to rescue the souls from the fiery abyss. Some even dare to brave the flames and the steaming tributaries themselves, facing their darkest demons head-on with the unlikeliest of weapons.

Top 5 Kung-Fu Movies

5. The Five Venoms (1978)
The Five Venoms coincides with my kung-fu renaissance, my re-introduction back into the movies that shaped my childhood. I used to work a youth center, where I worked with a guy who also love these movies. He let me borrow The Five Venoms on VHS, and the feeling I got watching it was both nostalgic and gleeful. The movie follows five martial artists trained in five different styles of kung-fu - centipede, snake, scorpion, lizard, and toad. Once the five leave their training, their master feels that they may use their skills for nefarious reasons. He tells his newest and final pupil to find track the Venoms down, though the task won't be easy, as they have shed their masks and blended into civilized society.

Centipede and Snake knew each previously, as did Lizard and Toad, though no one knew the identity of Scorpion. Centipede and Snake are looking to rob an old kung-fu master of his gold, and go on a killing spree attempting to achieve that goal. Meanwhile, Toad, along with Lizard, who has since become a municipal policeman, is on a clandestine path to bring the killers to justice. Scorpion is later revealed as Lizard's policeman partner, and is clearly playing both sides, trying to snag the gold for himself. An epic fight ensues that pits the Venoms against one another, along with the latest pupil, whose kung-fu can only defeat one of the Venoms when it's coupled alongside the style of another venom.




4. Shaolin Mantis (1978)
Every Saturday growing up, I used to rush home at 3 pm to watch Black Belt Theater, a network segment that every week offered up a dubbed over kung-fu delight. Of them, Shaolin Mantis was the first that I saw and was a favorite of mine growing up. Wei Feng is a government agent working for the emperor in China. He seeks to infiltrate the household of resistance fighters as a teacher for a spoiled, kung-fu-practicing girl named Chi Chi. The two of them eventually fall in love, and the only thing that will keep the grey-haired master antagonist from killing Wei Feng is if he marries Chi Chi and continues living in their house. There is a coveted list of other resistance fighters that the old master has possession of, and Wei Feng steals it, looking to make a quick escape.

With Chi Chi in tow, Wei Feng fights his way through a miriad of Chi Chi's uncles on the way to the master, Chi Chi's pipe-toting grandfather. While trying to provide her husband's escape, Chi Chi is killed and Wei Feng is left for dead when he plummets over a cliff. This is when he comes across a praying mantis. He observes the creature, taking cues from it and indirectly learns a new style of kung-fu from it that he can take back to the master and topple his regime. Wei Feng is essentially double-crossed in the end, but he goes out like a champion, the first and last man to ever master mantis-style kung-fu.




3. Crippled Avengers (1978)
Like many of these late-70s kung-fu sagas, Crippled Avengers comes off more like a fable. It's the story of a kung-fu master's vendetta in which his wife's legs and his adolescent son's arms are chopped off. We start off feeling bad for him, but the master and his son grow up to be tyrannical bullies, killing and disfiguring anyone who crosses them. Four of those are either completely innocent or pay for the freedom of speaking their minds. Four ordinary guys are blinded, crippled, made deaf and mute, and made mentally handicapped by the master and his iron-armed son. The four are a ragtag crew who help another lost soul back to his own master. The master is so grateful that he trains the cripples so that they can take their revenge on the tyrants who wronged them.

Crippled Avengers is a pretty simple plot that doesn't take too long develop, with the origin stories of the master and his iron-armed son coming at the very beginning. Most of the avengers were also featured in The Five Venoms and The Kid With the Golden Arm, referred to affectionately by kung-fu movie enthusiasts as the Venom Mob, a sort of kung-fu Brat Pack. Lo Meng is the actor featured in most, well-built and poised for the feature role.




2. The Kid With the Golden Arm (1979)
A lot of king-fu movies liked to dabble in gold, and in martial artists who mastered a certain style. There is supposed to be a shipment of gold taken to group of famine survivors, but word has spread that the Chi Sha Gang, headed by Golden Arm, Silver Spear, Iron Rogue, and Brass Head, will hijack the shipment en route. The man in charge of protecting it, Yang, hires a sword-swinging couple, Li Chin Ming and Miss Leng Feng, along with drunken master Agent Hai Tao, to protect it. Hai Tao fights better when he's drunk, and is constantly seen carrying a canister of wine (which actually just looks like water).

The Chi Sha are taken down one at a time until only Golden Arm remains. His best accolade is his strength and his arms that are likened to metal, capable and twisting and destroying the blades of opponent swords. He soon kills Li Chun Ming, but is defeated and blinded by Hai Tao. Then, the two unlikely allies battle a double-crosser together. At the conclusion, a now blinded Golden Arm swears he'll live quietly and retire from his bandit ways. Miss Leng Feng has other ideas, seeing as how it was Golden Arm who killed her lover, Li Chi Ming.




1. Executioners from Shaolin (1977)
Executioners from Shaolin is unique in this genre because it's king of two separate movies combined into one. The first half finds Hung Si-Kwan engaged in a Buddhist versus Daoist fight to the death, the two factions waging a war that puts Hung Si-Kwan on a path toward the beautiful Fang Yun-Chun. She is extremely talented at the crane technique of kung-fu, while Hung is a master of the tiger style.

Plot points in the movie are more intimated than explained, with Hung and Fang having a son together, Hung Wen-Ting, who is raised learning the crane style. Tiger is more masculine, while crane is more feminine, so Hung Wen-Ting wears pigtails like a girl, as he is learning the crane style from his mother. Sure, he gets picked on by peers, but he fends them off only to get scolded by his father, who refuses to teach him tiger style. This is never explained, but we have to assume that Hung Si-Kwan won't teach Hung Wn-Ting tiger style because he doesn't want him involved in the religious war with the Daoists, headed by the evil eunuch and kung-fu master, Pai Mei.

The character of Pai Mei made such a lasting impression on martial arts culture that nearly 30 years later, Quentin Tarantino made him a central force in Kill Bill Vol. 2 as the teacher of protagonist, Beatrix Kiddo.




The Pai Mei of Executioners fame has an interesting super power. He's a eunuch, and while he does possess one weak spot in some unknown area on his body, that weak spot shifts after 3 pm, making him even harder to defeat. Hung Si-Kwan spends decades trying to find the weak point. His first showdown with Pai Mei results in defeat, but one that he walks away from. As he will never stop trying to avenge his master, Hung Si-Kwan seeks out Pai Mei a second time. This time, he is killed. It's then on Hung Wen-Ting to avenge his father. On his mother's request, Hung Wen-Ting teaches himself tiger style by way of his father's old manual and writings. He learns this to go with the crane style he's been perfecting his entire life. After finding the right combination of the two styles, he defeats and kills the legendary Pai Mei in dramatic fashion.

Executioners from Shaolin presents a neatly-woven tale of vendetta and family saga, one in which the main protagonist dies, but his periphery son steps up to be the hero in the end. The movie is so different from any of the others, and the epic end fight and the familial significance leading up to the fight makes it stand out on a list full of innovative, allegorical, fable-like kung-fu offerings.