The Karate Kid BTS service

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1994 Noriyuki “Pat” Morita As Mr. Miyagi And Hilary Swank As Julie Pierce In “The Next Karate Kid.” (Photo By Getty Images)

The Karate Kid Between The Stools

Two shows 30 years apart about the same dynamic and teacher. But how spiritual is Mr Miyagi?Text at https://elspethr.wordpress.com/2024/06/22/the-karate-kid-bts-service/Next podcast 20th July Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.
  1. The Karate Kid
  2. Armageddon and the Afterlife
  3. Shakespeare In and On Love
  4. The Matrix Resurrection Easter 2024
  5. In Their End Is Our Beginning: The Henrys Tudor

 

Opening: part of Miyado-Do theme by Bill Conti

Welcome to Between The Stools on 23rd June 2024, and our continued Year of Wonders Film/TV theme.

The Karate Kid was a surprise choice, for I am not interested in American high school, fighting, nor – despite enduring them in my formative years – have I great nostalgia for the 1980s. I didn’t see the franchise at the time…and yet there were little nudges towards my having a binge on 5 films and 5 seasons of the followup series, Cobra Kai, and then feeling it was right to share them here.

This is the 40th anniversary of the first film, the 30th of the fourth, and is set to be the year of yet another remake and the end of the television series. Since the first movie was released on 22nd June, it is offered here now, although I nearly had a male Magdalene this year, for I quickly saw much of spiritual significance. The one with Magdalene spirit was not the titular child, but another M.

I struggled with the first few minutes until that M appeared – Mr Miyagi, a middle aged Japanese gentleman, literally a gentle-man, with a grounded spirit and much wisdom and wonderful energy. But I decided that although he exemplifies much divine masculine, that no-one in the franchise was showing divine (or often any) feminine; and despite oft being prophetic, that Mr Miyagi isn’t divine.

Hence my greater draw to the 4th movie with Hilary Swank as The New Karate Kid, and Miyagi’s having his ultimate challenge: a girl. Not since Matthew in Anne of Green Gables have I seen such shyness around dress buying; I was touched at how karate moves turn into prom waltz practice…and that when Julie is suspended from school, he takes her to a monastery, and not as a punishment.

However, who as a grieving teen would like a strange older man to live in your home, without your consent? Which grandma would agree?

I was disappointed to hear that the late actor who played Mr Miyagi, Noriyuki Pat Morita, had an American accent (would the broken English be considered PC today?) Pat said that he felt the ‘Miyagi voice’ came from somewhere within – was he channelling, or was this a new part of himself he found? I was sorry to learn that he was an alcoholic. Perhaps that simply shows that Pat was human; he was clearly very loved and the vehicle for this character who was a mentor to many.

I was surprised and delighted that this film series entered the mainstream and has stayed a favourite. Let’s have a prayer and think about why it is inspirational – and why it isn’t.

[prayer]

The Karate Kid series is about intergenerational, cross cultural friendship. It’s about finding balance.

It is against revenge, violence for its own sake, hate and bullying and being merciless. It is about forgiveness and co-operation and being peaceable wherever possible.

When Daniel LaRusso is made to move across the country with his mum, he felt resentful and lost. Yet that move facilitated a rest-of-life special bond with an extraordinary man that would give him purpose and compass, which he would essay to pass on to a new generation. Even his being bullied was a weird kind of assistance, for it catalysed Mr Miyagi revealing his karate skills and becoming Daniel’s teacher, called a ‘sensei’, and deepening their relationship.

Something else was being laid for far into the future. The enmity from the tournament set up the seed of a long running series 30 years on, with an important outcome that affected and ultimately assisted many more than the original two men.

I am tired of seeing Daniel LaRusso’s crane kick of December 19th 1984; I thought it a ridiculous move and wondered if it was meant to distract the opponent into submission or inattention. I have never seen that oft-repeated clip as cool. But it is a scene also replaying in Johnny Lawrence’s mind, especially as his old rival’s car sales billboards appear all over town.

Johnny believes that it was an illegal kick – should a blow to the face be an allowable move, and one we give glory and trophies out for? Should we encourage minors to beat each other in this way? The whole show is predicated on offering this as entertainment, even as edification.

I’d like us to pause to consider that. (When Netflix flags smoking under ‘mature content’, isn’t it surprising that this show of violence and irresponsibility isn’t flagged or even censored?)

The Karate Kid is always about two opposing forces: there’s the Miyagi way, and that exemplified by rival Cobra Kai; in the fourth film, which was my favourite, the dojo (karate studio) is replaced by security guard trainees. The Other Side is always military-based; but although Mr Miyagi also fought in a war, his philosophies and methods contrast with that of Vietnam veteran John Kreese and the man running the Ace group in the Hilary Swank movie.

Kreese et al want to scare and humiliate their group of young people; their impetus is largely from fear of being beaten in all senses, set against a hard nosed ambition to survive and win at any cost.

You’re yelled at, called names publicly, made to do press-ups if you’re deemed to fail; questions are not tolerated. Although a troupe, there’s room for only one on that podium. Kreese makes clear to Lawrence that there’s only one trophy: first. Second place is no place and he violently and publicly castigates Lawrence for ‘losing’.

This value is a Western distortion. Belts in karate were invented for the West: Mr Miyagi laughs about belts; they weren’t important in his native Japan. Belts are about grading and categorising; it’s also about needing visible incentive to improve, and telling you what respect to accord (cf military stripes and also church garb – do you have a forked tongue round your neck or a mere dog collar?!).

I wonder then why Mr Miyagi found a trophy worth pursuing? Why a public contest, with titles and hierarchy? And why is this repeated in each film and most seasons, except the fourth movie – again, a reason to enjoy that one most.

Entering the competition as a dojo and then putting the glory onto one person is also divisive. The fear of failing your team, or worse, your sensei, is enormous pressure.

We can see this in much of our world: fathers some call ‘sir’; our bosses, our religious leaders, and most of all, our God: a god who tries to actively recruit you (note that Miyagi-Do also does this, claiming that kids need saving from the other side), who will punish non obedience, put you through any test he thinks fit to allegedly train you and demonstrate your loyalty, and will come after you if you abandon him. Yet actual God is nothing to do with this. He doesn’t have favourites within his elite, as dojo champions create, or need puffing with constant titles – and nor should the earthly wannabe demi-gods.

I want to think a moment on senseis: this is a title of honour for martial arts teachers and leaders, even when in the West. In this film, most sentences addressed to the sensei end with that name: “Yes sensei, no sensei” is shouted by the class or an individual, even if they’ve been demoted or slighted. It is the equivalent of ‘sir’, again in a military or school setting. It is about admitting their authority, your inferiority. The teacher is not on first name terms with you; you address them by their title, and if more than one is in your presence, you append their surname to ‘sensei’. We can draw a parallel with peers, judges, medics (I saw a celebrity quiz show with a “Dr…” contestant).

It is also seen in ministry. Some non-com ministers are Pastor, even when referred to by their wives. But it’s ‘father’ and ‘bishop’ I most mind, and the title of ‘reverend’, which is unbiblical, as I’ve pointed out: I call only my God and my Dad ‘father’. I stand with Quakers who have always been against hierarchy in address. When, like in Japan today, we in Britain used specific pronouns depending on the status of the person we talked to, Quakers called everyone the ordinary equal ‘thee/thou’ (Today’s generic ‘you’ is the old form of address to the king).

The bow is also significant. Like other east Asian cultures (where I can spend much screen time), the depth and length of bow shows your status in comparison to the other person. A long bow is one of deep reverence, while a brief bob back is saying: I accept your subordinate gesture. In dojos, the military salute and heel click is replaced by the bow. You bow to your opponent before a fight, which I applaud, but how meaningful is that bow when you mean to hurt them? Cobra Kai bows are short and mechanical; Miyagi-do bows are slower and more respectful. But in tournaments, both fighters bow to the referee, who is not even your sensei.

I prefer the Indian “Namaste” which I believe means “I salute the divine within you as you recognize it within me”. It’s about mutual honouring, not comparison or abasement.

Mr Miyagi is a sensei, but I don’t recall him calling himself one; he is addressed as “Mister” whilst calling himself his last name in the third person. (Jesus didn’t call himself ‘lord’.) Adult Daniel also is called “Mr”, not sensei; and the bows in his classes are unlike those in the serpent realms, as is the general atmosphere and treatment. Note that Mr Miyagi didn’t set up a school: he trained Daniel alone. The dojo in his name came after his passing. Perhaps we could parallel that with the ‘Church’ and religion set up in Christ’s name after his ascension. Is Daniel apostle Peter, but Hilary Swank’s Julie Mary Magdalene who is oft passed over by the mainstream and often male canon?

Ralph Macchio, who plays Daniel, says that there’s a poignant moment in the first film where Daniel takes on Miyagi’s baton, but I don’t think that even middle aged Daniel encapsulates that. He’s often far from his friend’s legacy, and I noted the very different energy of the TV series to the movies, when Mr Miyagi was no longer available and his Japanese flutey theme tune no longer wafts among the bonsai; instead, heavy metal strums out the later show’s new energy. Although Daniel’s journey isn’t yet complete – that’ll come later this year – I have noted with concern the blending of the two dojos’ styles and the implied message that kicking ass with aggression is not only necessary, but fun and cool and heroic…

Musical Break ——– Miyagi-Do theme by Bill Conti

Is Daniel really the true hero of the show?

A video by J. Matthew Turner says that Johnny is the true karate kid and Daniel the bully. I didn’t agree with it all, but I did cede some points. Daniel is actually the aggressor, stirring up with Ali and Johnny at the beach party, ingratiating himself with Ali and driving a further wedge between this couple. She was Johnny’s first love and in a longer relationship; Daniel has a girl per movie.

The Halloween party incident is entirely whipped up by Daniel, by his hosing Johnny’s unsuspecting group, who don’t even recognise him in costume. His running away from them causes cars to crash. An older man rescues him by beating up five minors. When Johnny reverses this 30 years on, defending his young neighbour from a posse, the cops spray him and put him in jail overnight. Why was Miyagi a hero, while Lawrence was a miscreant child harmer?

Daniel and Miyagi burst in on John Kreese’s space (his dojo) mid lesson, giving him a direct challenge. The damage from Miyagi’s quick legs and hands is apparent on Johnny’s face, which also incites Kreese as it’s clear who has beaten his champion. Instead of fighting each other in a duel, Miyagi chooses the public contest between the young men. He knows nothing of its rules, arrogantly admitting this as he arrives at the arena on the day (at least Jackie Chan in the 2010 remake reads them). So was Daniel’s kick allowed?

But beautifully, and against his sensei’s sensibilities, Johnny awards Daniel with the trophy he hoped would be his, even though he is bruised within and without, and wonders about the legality of the winning move. That makes Johnny bigger in my assessment.

There were times where I felt a greater sympathy and even draw to Johnny. I felt compassion for a fifty year old who isn’t doing what society tells us we should be by that age. On a soul level, he’s taken a braver path than Daniel as he has further to come. He’s able to admit mistakes and to have the words to articulate them, even to say that he doesn’t know what to say. But Johnny can also be immature, violent and irresponsible. I resisted the self appointed head boy and girl duo of the LaRussos, and that a lucrative business should give them the rights to steer school and community (especially as their children bully and commit crimes). I also found Daniel’s pedestal-putting and prosletysing regarding Mr Miyagi often cloying, although I could also see how a movement is set up around a master; and I have already pointed out the Christian parallel.

Out of the three precepts on Cobra Kai’s wall, it’s ‘no mercy’ I most object to. Mercy is divine, although it’s a subject to also critique. Phil Charlesworth preached that mercy involves having power over someone. Whether or not you choose to exercise this power, there is something nasty you could do to someone you perceive to be under you. Mr Mayagi chooses ‘mercy’ in the nose meep, but it’s a humiliation that stings as much as a slap and is seen as not having the honour of a blow. It infantilises the meep-ee.

What does it say about the Karate Kid films that they all end on tournaments, with no denouement? It suggests that to the filmmakers, winning matters most, despite all the other philosophies preached. It’s that trophy and the vanquished foe we need to see, it’s implied. Dangerously, the other sensei is left without anyone, a broken man, humiliated. We don’t know what happened to the 1994 ace coach, but we know that those left in Daniel’s wake need to come back and finish off….

I was drawn to Cobra Kai because I see the reality of unhealed situations coming round again much later. I’m told that we operate on thirty year cycles, and so the challenges of mid to late teens return in middle age.

I wonder if we can relate to that? I’d like to invite you to think on that. (If you’re younger than middle age, perhaps think about situations that you would like to heal. maybe we could enquire how; but I believe God will bring that to us; and as I’m about to explain, and perhaps there’s things we didn’t know we still needed to heal, and those persons may cross our path, or something like them.

Pause —- Another snippet from one track of Bill Conti’s Miyagi Theme —-

In closing, I choose a storyline to comment on:

There’s a couple of episodes in season 3 involving the LaRusso business crisis, which takes Daniel back to Japan, and that sequence was one of my favourites…. I say was, as re-watching I was less sure. I enjoyed the second film most of the three with Daniel in, because it takes him to Miyagi’s world, the island of Okinawa.

This storyline can be taken as a parable

When LaRusso’s rival car dealer cuts them out of local business and offers to buy them up, the LaRussos refuse. As their showroom remains empty and they financially struggle, desperation kicks in and they’re tempted to take the offer. Something big has happened involving their children and dojo, and the rival has used this against them. Daniel sets out for Japan – for many of his cars come from there – to try to persuade the company personally to work with him. It’s brave, considering their dwindling money, but proactive and assertive. And that step leads Daniel to several answers and things to be healed – some of which he didn’t know he needed.

The meeting does not bring a successful outcome; he’s politely heard but told that the incident has put off the company from supplying LaRusso with cars, and that an alternative exclusive arrangement has been made (with LaRusso’s rival to supply them alone in the area). Daniel’s perky on the phone to his wife, but he has no clue how he’ll fulfil his promise to come home with a ‘yes’.

Slumping in a bar, the person who serves him is a god send. Daniel is asked if he’s visiting: he reveals his best friend ever was Japanese, but is no longer available to visit. The barman replies: that is American thinking; in Japan we can always visit, even if the person is no longer on Earth. Behind, the television shows pictures of Mr Miyagi’s island. Daniel decides to visit.

But it’s far from the quiet traditional Japanese village of the 1980s: it’s been taken over by American commercialism. He’s told that when crops failed, the locals were glad to embrace this new form of income. I don’t accept that: who made the crops fail, and was the takeover planned? Now the locals are employees of big foreign corporations, rather than small or own local businesses – is giving people jobs (and entering wage slavery) really a reason or a positive outcome?

As Daniel is assimilating this mall, he sees someone he met here 30 years ago. They reconnect – not romantically – but he is able to clear some things that he wasn’t aware of. He has to face an old foe. His own arrogance regarding Mr Miyagi and his culture is challenged. Daniel leaves Japan having learned something, and having made an ally that will be crucial to him at home. Chozen becomes a regular character, and is fighting with Daniel. Daniel hears a late letter read to him from Mr Miyagi about him, which is very moving. And the thing he consciously came for: the girl he saved in a hurricane has become senior international salesperson for the very company he came to woo. It is she who saves his business, saying “When you put good out into the world, it comes back to you”.

That’s a great insight to round up on. You’ll have gathered my mixed views; The show’s strength is that it allows completions and recognises the need for them; it demonstrates some wonderful forgiveness, strong character development, and it introduced spiritual concepts and another culture. But one where you turn to breath, and not prayer (as per a scene in the film)…? For me, something and someone was always missing from the karate philosophy.

I would love to hear your thoughts…and since we’re not yet meeting, please do email me and tell me them, and I’d love to get to know listeners and be able to plan where best to meet.

Elspeth betweenthestools@hotmail.co.uk

Next month is Magdalene Sunday and we’ll be thinking about her on film on 20th July)

Thank you for joining me, love and blessings to you all, and good night

I play you out with another excerpt from Bill Conti’s Miyago-Do theme, used under Fair/Religious Use

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