This “unearthed” 80′s film is the essence of b-movie badness…and it’s worth your time.
I’m pretty sure that when karate was being perfected hundreds of years ago in Japan, the plan wasn’t to include a white dude rapping over a drum machine. Somebody just lost their dojo privileges.
Forget nunchucks, swords or throwing stars, all you really need to protect yourself from a would be attacker is a rolled up magazine. Personally, I prefer a nice thick copy of Rolling Stone or National Geographic.