Tire on a Wire: The Absurd Joy of Belly of the Beast (2003)

In recent years there appears to be one adjective that has become contentious among the writing community. The naughty word in question is ‘Nostalgia’ and its derivative ‘Nostalgic’ and it’s easy to see why, as the studio system has ultimately capitalized nostalgia to its advantage, preying on it and appealing to the multiplex masses with umpteen legacy sequels. Outside of the cinema, it’s just as egregious, particularly within the horror genre, as countless pieces of merchandise, figurines and the like are created to prey or profit on the memories of those more carefree days of yore. 

But what does this have to do with a low-budget DTV Steven Seagal feature? Well, to be frank, nostalgia can (whether we like it or not) hit even the most hardened writer when they least expect it. While Seagal’s recent offerings have descended further into laborious snoozefests, there’s something quite nostalgic about his bizarre DTV output from the early to late 2000s. Those halcyon days of DTV action titles being churned out (what feels like monthly) from Columbia/Tristar from 2003 to 2009, especially under their (now defunct) Fight Factory label. 

Aside from the Seagal features, Fight Factory released some low-budget gems from ageing action stars; there was the one-two-punch of the Ringo Lam/Jean Claude Van Damme team-ups in Replicant (2001) and In Hell (2003); the derivative but highly entertaining Po-Chih Leong/Wesley Snipes feature The Detonator (2006); Isaac Florentine’s flawed Van Damme thriller The Shepard: Border Patrol (2009); or the double whammy of entertaining Sheldon Lettich features with action/adventure The Order (2001) and bodyguard romance thriller The Hard Corps (2006). Despite the often-generic titles and limited budgets, there remains a wealth of old-school action entertainment ripe for rediscovery.

One such gem in this cavalcade of action insanity is Siu-Tung Ching’s [1] first English language feature, Belly of the Beast (2003). Humorously apropos title aside (given Seagal’s larger stature) BotB is still – even at the time of writing in 2022 – one of the most uniquely bizarre and utterly entertaining DTV features, not just of Seagal’s mediocre career, but also from the early 2000s DTV action market. It’s an intriguing mix of styles and influences, from Hong Kong Wuxia [2] action infused with Thai mysticism, black magic, and elements of the Heroic Bloodshed sub-genre thrown in for good measure. 

All of which help to create a breakneck 90-minute slice of martial arts insanity, bloody squibs, and Seagal and his body-double flying through the air to deliver weightless punishment on an assortment of expendable goons. While the action is ludicrous, it’s hard not to argue that it serves its purpose and is wholly entertaining. Never is the wire-fu played for laughs (despite the idea of Seagal being on wires immensely humorous), it instead fully embraces the insanity, whether that’s in the near majestic action on display during the train yard shootout or Thai assassin fight. 

It’s also Seagal’s most impressive looking late-era feature, thanks to Siu-Tung Ching, his stellar team of action chorographers from Thailand, and Danny Nowak’s [3] luscious cinematography which impressively masks a lot of the stunt doubling of Seagal by managing to frame the action in a selection of wide and Dutch angles. Generic rescue narrative aside, there’s a lot to enjoy during BotB’s scant runtime, whether it’s the Thai/Hong Kong Wuxia infusion, the inclusion of the aforementioned black magic, or the near fetishistic level of explosive debris seen during the final act that would make even John Woo or The Wachowski Sisters blush. 

Is BotB a good film? In a conventional sense, no. But it is a damn good time. Siu-Tung’s eye for crafting impressive action on a limited budget with a potentially difficult star is awe-inspiring. There’s something utterly fascinating about this era of DTV Seagal features, before he began churning out flat and frankly dull hitman thrillers. From 2003 through to 2009, audiences were blessed (or cursed depending on your viewpoint) with these peculiar, half-baked descents into DTV madness with bad body doubles, producer and star interference, with varying levels of atrocious dubbing for Seagal, and (mostly) uninspired action. 

Whether it’s the confusing messes of Attack Force (2007) or Submerged (2005); stock footage epic Today You Die (2006); post-apocalyptic vampire nonsense Against The Dark (2009); bloody squib-filled Hood thriller Renegade Justice aka Urban Justice (2007); or weird kidnapping thriller Out of Reach (2004), they all feel like unintended pieces of experimental DTV entertainment. This may sound like a limp attempt at justifying their deeply flawed merits, but there remains something truly magical when older action stars – whether it be Van Damme or Seagal – work with Hong Kong action directors like Siu-tung Leong or Tsui Hark. It’s highly doubtful the DTV market will be blessed with such bizarro nonsense of this ilk ever again.

So continues the piss-poor Seagal DVD cover photoshops. I know its disappointing, but sadly there is no car chase despite the exciting inclusion of a car on the cover

[1] Credited as Tony Ching Siu Tung

[2] For those unfamiliar with the term wuxia, it’s a sub-genre of Hong Kong action cinema that relies on heavy wirework. While this was brought to the cinema masses with The Matrix (1999), it has a long-standing tradition in both Hong Kong and Taiwanese cinema for use in period action films. Siu-Tung Ching would be one of the leading proponents (along with Yuen-Woo Ping and Cory Yuen) in revolutionizing wire-assisted action sequences during the 1980s and 1990s, most notably with A Chinese Ghost Story Part I and Part II (1987-1990), and Swordsman II (1992).

[3] Nowak has an impressive resume of low-budget features he’s worked as the cinematographer on, including but not limited to – Kirk Wong’s action gem The Big Hit (1998); Thomas Ian Griffiths’ Die Hard-lite DTV actioner Crackerjack (1994); undervalued Mark Hamill sci-fi b-movie Time Runner (1993); and iconic sexploitation spoof Flesh Gordon and the Cosmic Cheerleaders (1990).

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