Movie Review: Ong-Bak (2003)

I don't know if there's ever been a martial arts film that circumvents its own narrative with the same energy as Ong-Bak. Sure, there's a story here, about the theft of a sacred statue and a young man's quest to return the totem to his village, but whatever the reason we are given for Tony Jaa's acrobatics, those reasons are quickly erased by the presentation of his considerable choreographed skills. You don't need to know why Jaa is fighting so-and-so; all you need to know is how he's fighting so-and-so. He communicates the importance of the contest, indeed tells the entire story of the contest, with his body alone. In that sense, the cinematography during the fight scenes, cinematography which stays a fair distance away from Jaa and rarely moves in for a close-up, provides him with the appropriate means to put his dance on display. Context is everything; because the camera generally keeps his entire body in frame, you don't miss the sum of his movements. Jaa thrives on the realism of his presentation, much like any professional athlete worthy of awe, and any overtly artificial technique, such as rapid editing or close-ups, would simply hack him to pieces, and we would not see the chemistry between him, his opponent, his surroundings, and his own body. It's significant that Ong-Bak makes liberal use of replays to show us the same stunts from different angles, and in slow-mo. Such replays break up the narrative, stalling the story so we can have another look at Jaa's latest feat of daring-do. The story practically evaporates in these moments. Ong-Bak is like an early Jackie Chan film, where his rare physical talents are showcased, rather than his reputation; and even though Jaa is not yet on the same level as Chan in communicating the psychology of his fights, they may be equals in raw athletic prowess.