Lord of the Streets Review

"Lord of the Streets" is an amazingly low-rent action sports thriller, a combo genre that takes the worst parts of "Taken" and "Rocky" and does them on an obviously shoe-string budget. I've got absolutely nothing against cheapo motion pictures, but the producers would have done more just donating whatever money they had to the shooting location's local film school and actually do something good for cinema.

Anthony 'Treach' Criss plays former MMA fighter-turned trainer Dyson with an estranged family and quite a bit of debt. How does such a one-dimensional character get out of this mess? Well he blows a hand at cards, and owes vague crime boss Kane (Quinton 'Rampage' Jackson) his life unless his trainee throws his next big fight. Some friend he turns out to be- he doesn't lose, so he loses his life. Dyson's still kicking though, until Kane kidnaps his daughter. How does he get out of this bigger mess now?!

To look forward we need to look back, when Damon (Khalil Rountree Jr.) is arrested after beating a robber during a home invasion. How does he factor into the plot? Dyson's gym has a prison program where they teach inmates how to fight. Turns out that was a bad idea (I mean, duh) and the training quickly turns violent, but not before he spots our wrongfully convicted man kicking ass in the inevitable brawl.

So you can probably piece together what happens: Kane gets Damon out on the condition Dyson gets him ready for a fight. Not just any fight, but five consecutive fights. Where exactly is this fight? "Underground," as they say, where a bunch of randomly rich people who have nothing better to do with their money but watch grown men beat the snot outta each other.

There is some phony subplot about a corrupt detective, played by Richard Grieco, only maybe he isn't bent- I don't know. There is so little on display here that isn't blood soaked mayhem that it really doesn't even matter.

I guess I don't get MMA, wrestling, boxing or any of those things. What's the point? Just to win? Or is it fun to be beaten up?

In "Lord of the Streets'" defense, the actual fisticuffs are surprisingly competent, verging on decent and almost approaching thrilling. But without any emotional weight behind the senseless violence, it ends up being just that. The actors do whatever they can with a hackneyed script by writer/director Jared Cohn, only you can tell which among the cast are comfortable in front of the camera. Trench brings a cool disinterest to the screen, but Rampage looks paunchy and out of his element. He spends most of runtime sitting behind various desks holding an obvious prop-gun, spewing so many four-letter words that they couldn't possibly all be in the screenplay.

Or maybe they were? I promise to watch Mr. Cohn's next feature on the condition they work a thesaurus into the budget.