Geochilmaru: The Showdown (2005) Review

“Geochilmaru: The Showdown” Theatrical Poster

Director: Kim Jin-sung
Cast: Jang Tae-sik, Sung Hong-il, Kwon Min-gi, Yu Rang-rae, Hong Seung-hun, Mi-jeong Oh
Running Time: 86 min. 

By Paul Bramhall

My memory of Geochilmaru – The Showdown being released in 2005 is one of it being dragged over the coals in almost every review it received. Now, with the benefit of hindsight 18 years later, I would theorise there are a couple of contributing factors to the derision it received at the time. First was that 2005 was still very much the peak of what became known as the Korean Wave of cinema, referring to the country’s output that came to prominence in the 2000’s. Movies like Memories of Murder, Old Boy, and A Tale of Two Sisters had made high production values and a daring sense of storytelling the standard, so for those who went in a blind, a no-budget, shot on digital fight flick with minimal plot must have felt like a bad joke.

Similarly back in 2005 the post-millennium DTV action genre didn’t have a whole lot of respect, clogged up with lacklustre efforts from the likes of Steven Seagal and Jean Claude Van Damme. It would be the following years Undisputed 2: Last Man Standing that showed the full potential of what could be done on a small budget if you had the right talent both behind and in-front of the camera, and a dedicated fanbase followed suite. However with no established audience to come to its defence, Geochilmaru (as I’ll refer to it from here on in) slipped into obscurity, so underseen that it never even shows up on those fickle “fight flicks that flew under the radar” lists that pop up every so often.

Skip forward to 2023, and low budget DTV fight flicks filmed on digital have become the template for the genre, making a legitimate case to say that Geochilmaru was ahead of its time when it comes to providing fight action on a shoestring. One of those movies that’s remained on my ‘curiosity watch list’ for more years than I’d care to remember, it was about time to finally check it out and see if it really did deserve those scathing comments from the time of its release, or has it improved with age?

In terms of the plot, things couldn’t get more 2005 if they tried. The opening narration explains how the popularity of the internet has seen everything go online, including martial artists. In one particular chatroom, a legendary fighter who goes by the alias of Geochilmaru is famed for his tales of martial arts prowess, so when he issues a challenge that presents the opportunity to fight him in person, 8 of the members decide to take him up on it. Picked up in a beaten-up camper van, we meet each one of them via onscreen text that presents their chatroom alias, occupation, height, weight, and style of martial arts. Amongst the group kung-fu, kickboxing, taekwondo, hapkido, judo, boxing, and street fighting are all represented, and what’s perhaps Geochilmaru’s biggest selling point is that actual martial artists have been cast in the roles.

Except for Sung Hong-il (The Avian Kind, Rough Play) who plays an overly confident stuntman, for the other 7 Geochilmaru remains their one and only film credit. For a group of non-actors, everyone does a decent job in the acting department, with a lot of the musings on martial arts philosophy and discussions on their style no doubt playing like conversations they’d be likely to have in real life. Jang Tae-sik plays the closest role to the lead, being the character that audiences are initially introduced to and who we follow the journey of throughout. Tae-sik also contributed to the choreography, although it feels fair to say that probably all the main cast contributed ideas to their fight scenes.

It’s while in the camper van that the driver plays a cassette tape featuring a message from Geochilmaru, in which he informs the passengers that each one of them has a necklace. Only one of them can have the honour of facing off against the mythical fighter, so they each have to fight each other, the loser giving their necklace to the winner of the fight. In order to have the opportunity to fight Geochilmaru face to face, they’ll have to present all of the necklaces to prove they defeated everyone else along the way. Taking place on a snow-covered mountain and its immediate surrounds, what unfolds are essentially a series of fight scenes between the 8 cast members, each one of them pitting a specific style against another.

The antithesis of flashy, intricately choreographed fight scenes, the confrontations here intentionally lean towards a more realistic and grounded approach, with I’d daresay some moves likely performed on-the-fly based on the performer’s skillset and instincts. The camerawork may not always be optimally positioned, sometimes filming too close or at angles that betray a pulled punch, but these are minor gripes in what for the most part are refreshingly raw throwdowns. Kwon Min-gi as a wushu practitioner is a standout, and carries a certain amount of onscreen charisma as well, making it a shame that this is the only time he’d appear onscreen. The same applies for Yu Rang-rae as a kickboxing broker who never changes out of his suit, with his brawl on the beach against the streetfighter being a scrappy and gruelling highlight.

Geochilmaru was the sophomore feature length production from director Kim Jin-sung following 2002’s Surprise, and he’d only go on to make one other movie in the form of Eleventh Mom in 2007, after which he too disappeared into obscurity. Considering neither of his other movies are martial arts related, it only serves to make Geochilmaru even more of an oddity, however it certainly benefits from having a legitimate director at the helm. There’s a welcome sense of humor throughout, usually carried by the more established cast members. Sung Hong-il as a stuntman out of his depth brings the biggest laughs, who after getting pummelled in each fight he gets into, questions “Are you Geochilmaru!?” to whoever has defeated him each time. Similarly for Hong Seung-hun (Please Teach Me English, Emergency Measure 19) as a bumbling cop, who amusingly interrupts a couple of fights much to the fighter’s chagrin.

Despite being shot on digital in the early days of using the format for DTV flicks, Jin-sung uses his resources wisely. Most of the dialogue between the characters takes place in the back of the camper van, while all of the fights take place outside and are brightly lit. Credit should also go to the choice of locations, with the snowy mountainous landscape providing a naturally cinematic vista regardless of if its shot on a digital handheld cam or 35 mm, allowing the fights to play out against eye-catching temples, beaches, buddha statues, and rivers.

While there should be no doubt that Geochilmaru primarily sells itself on its fight scenes, there’s an underlying philosophical message that’s present throughout on what it means to be a martial artist. Despite the characters getting beaten, bloodied, and bruised, all of the fights end amicably, with the loser realising that they’ve learnt something from their defeat, or discussing the challenges of trying to adapt to another fighter’s style. Helping massively is that the cast, despite their acting inexperience, have a likable chemistry between them, helping to overlook some of the less than stellar moments or line delivery.

Despite its rough around the edges feel, its clear that everyone involved in Geochilmaru, particularly those in front of the camera, are completely invested in its premise and give it their all. While it would be easy to write it off as a low budget collection of loosely connected fight scenes based on an internet chatroom discussion, those that do are arguably missing the point. At its core is a surprisingly affecting message about being able to stay true to yourself, even if everyone around you is unable or unwilling to see the value in what you want to achieve, and at the end of the day all of us have likely experienced that feeling at some point in our lives.

Paul Bramhall’s Rating: 7/10