When a nuclear winter descends on the entire planet, the last survivors of humanity forage the globe in search of food, fuel and fisticuffs, not necessarily in that order. In fact, any yearning for the first two items on the list only seems to exist so these last men standing have a reason to throw down. With a grand total of three body types in play (child, inconceivably muscular and, in just one instance, morbidly obese) there's clearly a distinct appearance that's best suited for surviving an apocalypse, and on the surface it would appear that we're walking into a series of evenly-matched competitions. But that's when the Dragon Ball Z-styled aural superpowers kick in, and the mass of limbs begin their lazy, bloody, individual arcs through the sky. There's very little substance to this story - really, it's just a nonstop barrage of enemies against differing backdrops a'la the fighting games of the mid '90s - so it's good news that the battles are at least viscerally entertaining. Gorier than Mortal Kombat with the blood set to high, it's amusing at best if not terribly consequential.
Review of Fist of the North Star
