DEVIL'S EXPRESS

d. Barry Rosen (1977)

Another ramshackle, hyperactive, hugely endearing Blaxploitation Kung Fu film, this time with a very welcome supernatural element and the intermittent but powerful presence of Warhawk Tanzania, who should have been a much bigger star because he's fucking awesome, like a black Jason King with mad martial arts skills and even madder hair.

Warhawk plays Luke Curtis, a cool dude on a spiritual quest and a kung fu obsession that takes him to Hong Kong for expert tuition. He takes along his best pal, Rodan, a nice guy who, nevertheless, refuses to take things seriously and, as such, is always getting into trouble, mainly with The Tongs, who want him dead. While in Hong Kong, Rodan discovers a cave in a skull strewn valley. In the cave is an amulet, which he decides to pinch and wear as a medallion. The removal of the amulet unleashes a demonic creature, who follows the two friends to New York and takes up residence in the subway, subsisting on wayward travellers, who get dragged off the platform and torn apart. 

This goes on for a while, and is counterpointed by Rodan and a previously unintroduced friend being chased by The Tongs, who they battle with over and over. Rodan even kills a few, like shelling peas, and with as much thought. Things lose focus here, and become slightly confused. Lots of red paint gets used.

After some time, the two seemingly disparate elements combine when Rodan is chased down into the subway station and is killed by the monster he set free, having his face jammed into an electrical generator. It’s a quite clever twist, and slightly saddening as, for all his idiocy and murder, he was a likeable doofus. This (finally!) brings Warhawk Tanzania into the frame. Out for revenge, he dons a pair of gold lame dungarees and goes down into the subway to kick some ancient demon ass. I’m not making this up. He meets the demon, who manifests itself in a number of ways (including as Warhawk’s barely seen girlfriend but not, strangely, as Rodan, which would have been much more interesting) before reverting to its standard form, a kind of big, ugly pile of aged mince. After a humongous battle, Warhawk uses his hard hands, heavy feet and the groovy oriental amulet to defeat the demon and make New York safe again. Which is a relief, as I really like it there.

Unbelievably, after this starring role Warhawk Tanzania has no further IMDB credits. What sort of world are we living in?