After a failed 1994 film adaptation and several recent film outings for its rival, Mortal Kombat, no-one was hankering for another Street Fighter movie. But here it is anyway, muscles bulging and fireballs flying, and the sucker-punch is that it's actually quite fun.
All the familiar game characters and their signature moves are here, skimpy clothing and ridiculous hairdos in place. The saving grace is that director Kitao Sakurai has immense affection for the game but also doesn't take it all too seriously, with a background in comedy serving him well. He quietly sets about subverting all the derring-do, giving us world-ending stakes but also dysfunctional characters and clever little comic beats.
Go in with low expectations and be roundhouse-kicked in the face by laughs.
Fan-favourites Ryu (Andrew Koji) and Ken (Noah Centineo) give the plot some focus. As shown in a high-anime style flashback, Ryu won the last Street Fighter tournament in 1987, but only by giving in to his inner demons, who are also actual demons. He's been in self-imposed exile ever since, while Ken has become a show fighter rather than the real thing. During the movie’s table-setting first hour or so, the pair are among those called back for the new 1993 tournament, run by the patently nefarious Lord M. Bison (David Dastmalchian, bringing Alan Rickman levels of sneering).
The rest of the fighters are present and correct. Chun Li (Callina Liang) is an undercover agent, and therefore operating in the same mode as Ryu; 50 Cent is a boxer named Balrog; Jason Momoa’s Blanka is not the Hulk for legal reasons but sure goes to the same gym; Guile (Cody Rhodes) has surprisingly hilarious lines for a guy who could have skated by on his outrageous haircut. When the fight scenes come, Sakurai keeps them short and sweet, offering just enough to justify the film's title but giving each one a sense of identity. Importantly, there's enough physical contact here that it doesn't feel as weightless and CG-heavy as the last Kombat offering; most of these people fight like martial artists.
There's far too much plot, admittedly; a nearly unforgivable sequel-baiting ending, and some odd anachronisms in this alternate universe (4 Non Blondes did not release one song, appearing here in 1987, until 1993). But the film leavens the exposition with little shots of subversion (“There's some in my mouth!” wails an audience member after a particularly explosive match-up) and a winking sense of humour. Go in with low expectations and be roundhouse-kicked in the face by laughs.