Mumbai: Capcom’s pugilistic freak show returns to the big screen for Round 2, and this time it arrives armed with an ensemble of muscular weirdos, ’90s mall-arcade nostalgia, and enough unhinged energy to power a small country. Director Kitao Sakurai’s Street Fighter is far too stupid for its own good — yet far too entertaining to dismiss.
Following the 1994 Jean-Claude Van Damme-starrer, this new adaptation brings together an absurdly stacked cast: Noah Centineo as Ken Masters, Andrew Koji as Ryu, Callina Liang as Chun-Li, David Dastmalchian as M. Bison, Vidyut Jammwal as Dhalsim, Cody Rhodes as Guile, Roman Reigns as Akuma, Jason Momoa as Blanka, 50 Cent as Balrog, and Orville Peck as Vega, among others.
The Setup
The story opens in 1987 when Japanese martial artist Ryu (Koji) defeats Sagat in the inaugural World Warrior tournament, inadvertently awakening the dark power of Akuma (Reigns), who promptly murders Ryu’s mentor Gouken (Don Lee) and torpedoes the relationship between Ryu and his adoptive brother Ken (Centineo). Six years later, megalomaniacal dictator M. Bison (Dastmalchian) announces another tournament in Metrolao City, prompting Chun-Li (Liang) to round up fighters from across the globe.
Beyond this perfunctory scaffolding, the screenplay haemorrhages narrative coherence with reckless abandon, jettisoning plot in favour of an uninterrupted parade of smart-arsed quips and deranged non-sequiturs.
A Cast of Colourful Meatheads
Koji’s Ryu is emotionally constipated and perpetually unimpressed. Centineo’s Ken is “weaponised MTV with abandonment issues.” Liang’s Chun-Li is the sole adult supervising this martial arts kindergarten. Schulz’s Dan Hibiki offers surprisingly tender comic relief, while Dastmalchian’s Bison is “dictatorship with a humiliation fetish.” Rhodes’ Guile is pure “macho bromando,” Jammwal’s Dhalsim is a “casting gimmick Monkey D. Luffy,” and 50 Cent’s Balrog delivers “knuckle sandwiches with a platinum discography.” Momoa’s Blanka, meanwhile, is simply “just Jason Momoa.”
Shamelessly Salacious
The film is also indiscriminately horny. It lurches between slo-mo flesh-on-flesh posturing and gratuitous face-to-face moments, with most characters nursing a latent kink the screenplay is itching to indulge. Dastmalchian’s Bison practically climaxes at the prospect of another man’s muscular potency, Guile’s macho bluster comes with queer subtext, and Vega flaunts his femboy allure with spectacular brazenness. 50 Cent literally asks, “Whose meat do I need to beat?”
The camera also makes periodic pit stops at women’s rears and Liang’s much-publicised 6.5-inch thigh expansion for Chun-Li. Liang has clearly put in the work, but the film’s gaze remains trapped in the pubescent hormonal amber of first ogling a pixelated Chun-Li.
Nostalgia Done Right
Where the film shines is its arcade-era fan service — signature moves like the Dragonlash Kick, Flash Kick, Psycho Crusher, Buffalo Headbutt, hundred-hand slap, Tatsumaki Senpukyaku, Shoryuken, and naturally the Hadouken all make appearances. Its smartest flourish is the Titmouse-rendered 2D anime flashbacks, which recreate old-school anime visuals with a vibrancy the live-action material struggles to match.
The ’90s mall-arcade nostalgia is stupidly entertaining, particularly the grainy MTV segments chronicling Ken’s descent into New Kids on the Block-era celebrity degeneracy — complete with peroxide curls, Duracell ads, and televised fights with Toyotas and zoo exhibits. Needle drops from MC Hammer’s ‘2 Legit 2 Quit’ and Montell Jordan’s ‘This Is How We Do It’ turn the whole affair into a gloriously tacky time capsule.
Composers Leo Birenberg and Zach Robinson of Cobra Kai fame soundtrack the punching with aplomb, though the film’s most inspired refrain is repeatedly saddling Ryu and Ken’s bromance with 4 Non Blondes’ ‘What’s Up’ — which only gets funnier each time.
The Verdict
Whenever Ken and Ryu pontificate about honour and brotherhood, Chun-Li is on hand to tell them to shut up. The relentless dudebro theatrics grow tiresome, and the screenplay’s inability to let anyone resolve a disagreement without throwing a punch makes this feel like the closest Hollywood will ever come to a WWE movie that isn’t a WWE movie.
Street Fighter spends so much time mugging at its own ridiculousness that it never finds the wit to transcend it. Yet its sheer, unmitigated stupidity and monumental horniness have undeniable entertainment value — and time will likely be kinder to it than its opening reviews.
Street Fighter is currently running in theatres.
