Fact, Fiction of Shotokan Form Merger : Karate: Fanciful promoter brings together potpourri of performers, promises.

The Teen-Age Mutant Ninja Turtles, or reasonable facsimiles, opened the show, dancing to rock music pumped into the gym. They were followed by former heavyweight boxing contender Jerry Quarry, who sang the national anthem a cappella and, even in his stocking feet on the hardwood floor, still managed to appear more dignified than Roseanne Barr.

The few dozen paying customers barely had time to gather their wits before the next performer came on, a petite Japanese woman carrying longbow and arrows. Bowing politely, she went into her act, which consisted of five minutes of staring at a target 10 feet away. Twice, she interrupted her meditation to put an arrow into the center of the target.

The “first annual” Shotokan Karate International Federation Invitational, which took place over the weekend at the Cal State Northridge Matador Gymnasium, tried hard not to be just another local chop-sockee tournament. The two-day event purportedly attracted 300 competitors from more than 30 countries, including the Soviet Union, and was visited by none other than Hirokazu Kanazawa, the revered 60-year-old founder of the shotokan style.

If the tournament at times had a circus atmosphere, that’s because it was promoted by Edward S. Shaw, the self-proclaimed “P.T. Barnum of karate.” A former child actor and Hollywood publicist who describes himself as a “huckster,” Shaw apparently has found his dream promotion: a sport so fractionalized into warring factions that hard facts often are impossible to obtain and verify.

Explaining his philosophy of public relations, Shaw said, “Years ago, I was the publicist for Chuck Norris and made him the karate champion of the world, even though there isn’t really a world championship in karate.”

Shaw seems to have applied his philosophy to the tournament at CSUN, seldom letting accuracy get in his way. For example, he announced that the tournament “will be televised via Prime Ticket the third or fourth Monday in July.” Although Shaw’s production company taped parts of the event and hired former boxer Ruben Castillo to do commentary, no deal has been made with Prime Ticket, according to a spokesman for the L.A.-based regional cable network.

“We’ve expressed interest” in seeing the finished product “and would be willing to air it if it meets our standards,” the spokesman said, “but we’ve not committed to an air date or even to airing it until we’ve seen it.”

Shaw dismissed this discrepancy, saying, “Promoters have to be optimistic, otherwise they couldn’t get out of bed in the morning. But this show will be on because it will be network quality.” He added with a laugh, “I stretch a point. I’ve been doing it for 30 years.”

Shaw stretched several points in his press releases for the tournament. He claimed that Shotokan Karate International is “the largest karate organization in the world with over 1.5 million members.” But Pat Hickey, secretary of the U.S. Karate Federation, an affiliate of the U.S. Olympic Committee, says “nobody knows who’s the biggest. There are other styles just as big.”

Shaw’s press releases also referred to the “health-conscious practitioners of shotokan”--although competitors and officials could be seen in the gym lobby munching on cholesterol-laden pizza and smoking cigarettes--and called Castillo a “former featherweight champion,” failing to mention that his title was won in a national boxing tournament.

“I’m a little weak on boxing stuff,” Shaw said.

Seemingly buried beneath the hoopla were the performances of the martial artists. Kanazawa and other masters demonstrated their skills, as did Yoshiko Buchannan, the Zen archer. Competitors, from black to blue belts, took part in katas (ballet-like series of movements scored subjectively by judges) and kumite (noncontact sparring).

Unlike the martial arts popularized by Norris, Bruce Lee and Steven Seagal, shotokan karate is not about maiming, killing or breaking bricks with one’s head. Character, discipline, concentration, harmony and inner strength are its objectives. Incorporating tai-chi and yoga, shotokan was developed by Kanazawa 30 years ago as an offshoot of other traditional karate styles.

“It’s good for women and for children,” Kanazawa said during one of the many lulls in the action. “Karate is good for keeping young, not only for muscles but for internal organs, too.”

To the uninitiated, shotokan kumite seems confusing and dull. Wearing only mouthpieces and hand guards, the two barefoot combatants--shoes were not allowed on the floor--do a lot of feinting and pulling punches. Judges decide if a blow would have done damage, and qualities such as timing, technique, precision and focus are taken into consideration. Nobody gets blasted in the nose with a flying front kick.

“Tournament fighting hinges on who touches who first,” said Bill Drews, a green belt from La Crescenta competing in his second meet. “But as you move up in the ranks, the judges look more at form than all-out brawling.”

Karate aficionados ignored the hype and enjoyed the competition. “ Kumite has more action, but I like watching the kata ,” said Brien Siemantel, a 20-year-old fan from Sylmar. “In the kata , you can see the control of the person, the balance, the power they put in different movements. I love weapons’ katas , too, so I really like this tournament. It involves everything.”

Including the curious case of the National Awareness Foundation. The Washington-based anti-drug organization was persuaded to lend its name and sponsorship to the tournament, even sending its national director, Ruth Harris, to watch. But neither Harris nor Shaw said they were uncomfortable about the foundation’s banner, “Hugs, Not Drugs,” hanging in close proximity to the banner of another tournament sponsor, Razor Edge, a Tasmanian beer.

“We’re not against alcohol,” Shaw explained, “we’re anti-abuse.”

While the foundation hopes to get publicity if and when the tournament airs on television, Shaw and other tournament backers hope to find a permanent TV home for karate. Traditionally, karate has been ignored by the networks basically because Americans haven’t been interested in watching a sport that unfolds more like a ballet than a brawl. But Shaw and others believe that a tightly edited show would be exciting as well as educational.

“We want to help the public appreciate and understand the art,” said tournament financial backer Robert Kroner, a Woodland Hills insurance consultant and longtime black belt.

And at the tournament, separating truth from fiction was often an art in itself.