Alright Kombatants, gather 'round the flickering glow of the metaphorical CRT. Remember that feeling back in '97? The first Mortal Kombat movie, against all odds, had actually been... pretty cool, right? Decent fights, killer techno soundtrack, Christopher Lambert chewing scenery as Raiden – it captured something of the game's violent magic. We were primed. We were ready. We slapped that Mortal Kombat: Annihilation tape into the VCR, maybe after grabbing it from the 'New Releases' wall at Blockbuster, expecting more of the same brutal fun.
And then... well, Annihilation happened.
Finish Him? Or Just Finish It?
Picking up immediately where the first film left off (like, seconds later), the sky cracks open, and Emperor Shao Kahn (Brian Thompson, looking appropriately menacing under pounds of latex) descends upon Earthrealm, blatantly ignoring the rules of Mortal Kombat he just lost. His plan? Merge Earthrealm with Outworld in six days, unleashing his extermination squads. It falls to Liu Kang (Robin Shou, the only major returning hero retaining his role), Kitana (Talisa Soto, also returning), and a radically recast group of Earthrealm's defenders to stop him. It’s a frantic race against time, involving prophecies, new allies, new enemies pulled directly from the game roster, and approximately one thousand spinning kicks.
The first sign something was amiss? The cast list. Where was Lambert's quirky energy as Raiden? Replaced by the undeniably talented but tonally different James Remar (known for The Warriors and later Dexter). Remar apparently took the role last minute, stepping in after Lambert reportedly disliked the script – a sentiment many viewers would soon share. And Sonya Blade? Recast with Sandra Hess. Jax? Now played by Lynn 'Red' Williams. And poor Johnny Cage... well, let's just say (Spoiler Alert!) his screen time is brutally brief, dispatched unceremoniously by Kahn himself mere minutes in. Rumor has it Linden Ashby wasn't even initially approached to reprise the role, a baffling decision given Cage's popularity. This revolving door of actors immediately fractured the continuity and goodwill built by the first film.
More Kombat, Less Impact
Director John R. Leonetti, who served as cinematographer on the first Mortal Kombat, steps behind the camera here. His background perhaps explains the film's visual ambition, but the execution often stumbles. The goal seems to have been "more": more characters (Sheeva! Motaro! Nightwolf! Sindel! Ermac! Cyrax! Mileena!), more locations (shot partially in Thailand and, bizarrely, Wales), and crucially, more fights. And fight they do. Constantly. The film lurches from one martial arts sequence to another with barely a breath in between.
Now, let's talk action. The first film relied heavily on practical wirework and grounded (well, mostly grounded) martial arts. Annihilation dives headfirst into the burgeoning world of late-90s CGI, and folks... it shows. Remember those animalistic transformations? Liu Kang’s dragon and Shao Kahn’s hydra clash in a spectacle that, even viewed through the forgiving haze of nostalgia, looks like something rendered on a souped-up Amiga. While there’s still plenty of stunt work – flips, kicks, falls – it’s often overshadowed or augmented by digital effects that haven't aged gracefully. What felt cutting-edge for a fleeting moment on your fuzzy rental tape now looks jarringly artificial compared to the tactile crunch of the first film's best fights, let alone modern blockbusters.
It wasn't entirely the effects team's fault; Threshold Entertainment's digital artists were reportedly working under immense pressure. The production itself was rushed, with a budget around $30 million – not insignificant, but perhaps stretched thin by the sheer ambition and scale attempted. The script reportedly underwent massive rewrites, contributing to the choppy narrative and often nonsensical dialogue ("Too bad you... will die!").
A Symphony of Spinning Kicks and Questionable Choices
Despite the flaws – the incoherent plot, the wooden acting from some quarters, the often laughable CGI – there’s an undeniable, almost endearing, chaotic energy to Annihilation. It genuinely tries to cram in everything fans loved about the games. We get Cyrax firing his net, Sub-Zero freezing folks (briefly), Mileena’s sai-wielding menace in her genuinely quite cool fight with Sonya, and even Rain makes a blink-and-you'll-miss-it appearance just to get dispatched. It feels less like a movie and more like a hyperactive kid smashing all their action figures together, yelling sound effects.
Was it good? Objectively, no. The critics savaged it upon release (it currently enjoys single-digit approval on Rotten Tomatoes), and while it opened reasonably well at the box office, word-of-mouth quickly curtailed its earnings, effectively killing the burgeoning film franchise for decades. Yet, it achieved a different kind of legacy. It became a cornerstone of the "so bad it's good" movie night, a benchmark for questionable sequel decisions, and a fascinating time capsule of early digital effects ambition exceeding capability. I distinctly remember renting this with friends, expecting Mortal Kombat, and getting... this. The laughter was definitely mixed with disbelief.
VHS Heaven Rating: 3/10
Why the score? While brimming with unintentional comedy and a frantic desire to please game fans with sheer quantity, Annihilation fundamentally fails as a sequel and a coherent film. The jarring recasts, nonsensical plot, dialogue that borders on self-parody, and painfully dated CGI overwhelm the few genuinely decent fight choreography moments and the earnest efforts of returning actors like Robin Shou. It earns points for its sheer audacity and its cemented status as a legendary bad movie artifact, perfect for a nostalgic chuckle, but lacks the charm and (relative) competence of its predecessor.
Final Thought: Mortal Kombat: Annihilation is the cinematic equivalent of trying to perform a complex Fatality after chugging three cans of Jolt Cola – messy, hyperactive, probably misses the mark, but undeniably memorable in its own uniquely disastrous way. A true relic of a time when throwing everything at the screen sometimes meant everything splattered.