Movie Reviews : Superficial ‘Fist Fighter’ Telegraphs Its Punches

As played by Jorge Rivero, the quiet but quick-fisted title character of the handsome Mexican-American production “Fist Fighter” (citywide) has no character, other than an essential decency. Devoid of apparent past or future, hero C.J. Thunderbird has nothing to interrupt a dull existence of menial jobs other than occasionally going to great lengths to avenge the deaths of his friends.

He has a lot of friends who die, so it’s not as though he isn’t busy. There’s the pal whose head was caved in at the hands of a brutal boxer before the film begins, sending Thunderbird down to South America in search of the killer for a score-settling slugfest. In the course of this justice, the hero makes more buddies who will kiss their mortal coils goodby.

Thunderbird does put aside fisticuffs long enough to romance a comely blonde (Brenda Bakke), the south-of-the-border equivalent of a gun moll to the chief gambling, fight-fixing villain (Mike Connors, of “Mannix”). Inexplicably, though, our man leaves this fine woman behind at the climax to walk off alone into the sunset and, presumably, into another lonely construction job till the next acquaintance gets axed.

It’s too bad Thunderbird isn’t fleshed out at all because Rivero--largely unknown here, but a star in Latin American countries--is a likable action hero, one too personable to be the mysterious high plains drifter Max Bloom’s lazy script seems designed for. Rivero (sometimes known as George Rivero in more Anglicized projects, and even some of this film’s ads) projects a rarely seen burly wholesomeness, like a matinee idol from a gentler, less cynical era.

He also really knows how to fight, unless the editors have done a spectacular job of fooling us. The rousing scenes of bloody, gloveless boxing have been choreographed by Jimmy Nickerson (“Raging Bull,” “Rocky”). And for those with a jones to see men pummeled unconscious, but without a month’s pay saved up for the next closed-circuit Tyson match, this may be a reasonable--and certainly lengthier--alternative.

Notable among the supporting cast are Edward Albert, as a downtrodden ex-fighter, and personification-of-evil Connors, who gets to end almost every sentence with “my friend” (as in “Don’t threaten me, my friend”) and is so over-the-top dastardly he lacks only a waxy mustache to twirl.

“Fist Fighter” (rated R) may be weak on character but looks fine and moves efficiently under the direction of Frank Zuniga, who made a number of Disney’s wildlife adventure shorts (a la “The Owl That Didn’t Give a Hoot”). Perhaps the inclusion of a sidekick dog for the hero is an homage to that work; perhaps the violent death of said canine is Zuniga’s wry way of kissing the genre goodby?