The Karate Kid (Minus the Karate)

On the Sunday evening of the opening weekend of The Karate Kid, I rode my bicycle down to the U7 movie theater on Shattuck Avenue in downtown Berkeley. The showing I sought to attend was scheduled to start at 10:30pm, but I arrived a little early with a friend to secure a seat and save time to observe the surroundings and absorb the movie going experience in its entirety. Tickets cost ten dollars apiece, with a student discount of two dollars. Upon entering the theater, Karate Kid posters of varying sizes adorned the walls of the lobby to flaunt the new film. Chinese style lanterns decorated the area, bearing racially charged connotations. The film was being screened in theater five, and upon entering, many of the seats had already been filled. Considering the fact that it was a Sunday, I was mildly surprised at the size of the audience. My friend and I elected to sit near the back of the theater, so I could maintain a decent view of the audience who would continue to filter in. The majority of the crowd appeared to be in the age range of early to mid twenties, and the groups generally seemed to be between two and four people. However, some people were older, some younger, and some sat alone. Racially, the audience was fairly well represented.

Previews for other films played their sequence, and as the opening credits began to flash across the screen, conversations among audience members simmered into silence. A lively energy animated the crowd, and this carried throughout the film. Laughter ensued during the comical moments, and the audience collectively reacted during scenes of violence. Overall, there was a strong engagement between the film and the viewers, which made for a stronger emotional experience than if I were to have viewed the film alone at home. Uncanny parallels were at work between this remake of the Karate Kid and its 1984 predecessor. The geographic location was a stark difference in this 2010 version, and it is peculiar that the film actually has nothing to do with karate, but rather, kung fu is the martial art being practiced. While this is acknowledged in an exchange between the main character, Dre, and his mother, the movie still retained the name of the former film. Tinges of orientalism taint this decision made by the filmmakers, as it alludes to a sort of homogenization of Asian people, language, and cultural elements from a Western gaze.

The predominantly featured characters of the film include Dre (played by Jaden Smith), who is a twelve-year-old boy whose mother’s job relocated the two to Beijing, China. Mr. Han (Jackie Chan) is the quiet, older maintenance man who lives adjacent to Dre’s apartment complex. Dre’s father is never seen, but it is made apparent early in the film that he had died some years earlier. His absence is in conversation with the black single mother narrative rooted in American racism. However, within his absence lives a space for Mr. Han and Dre to bond, which is a process that develops throughout the course of the film. Upon arriving in Beijing, Dre is greeted by a white American boy with blonde hair. The two go to the local basketball court to play a game, where Dre allegedly flirts with a young Chinese girl, and their conversation sparks a fight between Dre and a local boy, Cheng. Though Cheng’s martial art skills are far superior to Dre’s pitiful attempt to fight back, he refuses to back down. Cheng and his group of friends continue to victimize and taunt Dre throughout the course of the movie, hence the boy’s training with Mr. Han. The early alliance formed between the two American boys coupled with the immediately hostile relationship forged between Dre and Cheng (and his friends) bears tones of nationalism. The positioning of this fight is sparked by heterosexual flirtation, and this serves to construct extremely gendered roles in the blatant construction of masculinity. The hostility appears to subside only at the very end of film, when Dre defeats Cheng, with his fellow American friend cheering him on in the audience. Cheng accepts his defeat and congratulates Dre, acquiescing to his loss of opportunity for the championship. Despite his lifelong training, Dre’s short time training with Mr. Han was enough for the young American boy to prevail and win the ultimate championship over all the other Chinese boys. Constituted through this experience, his identity is then able to take on the title of “Kung Fu Champion” (Scott, 401). Read through this lens of nationalism, Dre retains the ideology of the American dream in his ability to achieve the seemingly impossible and reign superior to his bully, finally earning respect. The masculine alliance between Dre and his white American friend positioned against the Chinese boys and sparking with a fight over a girl teems with heterosexual nationalism, despite the young ages of the boys. The American, however, prevails (oh, and he also gets the girl). This trope speaks to Eithne Lubheid’s article’s point that discusses, “how sexuality constitutes a ‘dense transfer point for relations of power’ that structure all aspects of international migration” (Luibheid, 169).

The Karate Kid, however, was an endearing depiction of a young boy’s transnational migration to a different country. The film was aesthetically pleasing, entertaining, and a offered elements of comedy, youthful romance, emotion, and homosocial fatherly-son type bonding. I wasn’t entirely enamored with the film, but it was an entertaining and enjoyable way to spend two and a half hours. The audience seemed to receive the film well, and the film surely didn’t reek with the racism, sexism, and disgustingly offensive connotations that Sex in the City offered to its viewers.

jeni