“Street Fighter: The Legend of Chun-Li,” directed by Andrzej Bartkowiak is not in the realm of movies so bad as to provoke anger.  It has advanced far beyond that.   It resides in a dimension of cosmic failure so far removed from legitimate cinema that nary a movie has been made that would rival its ineptitude.

Has Hollywood learned nothing from its embarrassing track record in adapting video games for the big screen? It’s predecessor, 1994′s “Street Fighter” starring Jean Claude Van Damme and Raul Julia being a glaring example.  Not only did this film’s epic failures prove that a bad movie can ruin once promising careers, but that minute details like a script, acting, and direction actually matter when making a movie.  Who knew?

Films like “Chun Li” are a cancer on the industry.   They eat away the credibility of anyone involved with any credibility to lose.  Respected actor Michael Clarke Duncan (“Sin City”, “The Green Mile”) is a prime example as he turns in an inexcusably awful performance as the randomly and unnecessarily destructive Balrog.  Kristin Kreuk (“Smallville”) who plays the title character, though not an especially accomplished actress, is impressively bad even for her standards. The biggest stinker of them all though is Chris Klein (“American Pie”) as perpetually confused Interpol agent Charlie Nash.  Klein’s performance is the stuff of legend, destined for enshrinement in the Library of Congress or the Smithsonian’s National Museum of American History as the the premier example of the failures of modern American cinema.  It is the foil–the antithesis if you will–of all things deemed worthy or of value in the entire global culture of the art, history, and theory of film.

You may be reading this thinking, “The acting sucks, so what?  It’s an action movie.  It really only exists to show us some cool fight scenes so give it break.”  Normally that might be a valid argument. I enjoy brainless, action-packed, popcorn fare just as much as the next guy, but this film is so inexplicably awful that even the action–it’s very reason for being–fails in more ways than can be fully appreciated in only a few paragraphs.  In short, it’s muddled, random, often completely unnecessary, and always absolutely unbelievable.  The choreography in “Power Rangers” is more exciting.

The film’s one glimmer of redemption is that it manages to hold your attention based solely on unintentional hilarity–at least for a little while–but even that becomes tiresome long before its excruciating 96 minutes are up.

(1 out of 5)