Belly of the Beast (2003) Review

“Belly of the Beast” Poster

Director: Ching Siu-Tung
Cast: Steven Seagal, Byron Mann, Monica Lo, Tom Wu, Sara Malakul Lane, Patrick Robinson, Vincent Riotta, Eilidh MacQueen, Kevork Malikyan 
Running Time: 91 min. 

By Henry McKeand

Steven Seagal is horrible. He’s horrible to stunt performers, he’s horrible to women, and he’s been a horrible screen presence for the vast majority of his career. His jet black hair dye and overflowing torso and ridiculous outfits have made him a kind of internet laughing stock, but they’re nothing compared to the myriad stories of his casual cruelty and egomania. In 2026, I have no interest in ironically watching a Seagal film. So-bad-its-good jokes about the man and his countless straight-to-Redbox vanity projects stopped being funny a long time ago, and City on Fire is a place to discover actually worthwhile martial arts and Asian action films.

So then why go back in time to review Belly of the Beast, which features Seagal at the beginning of his long descent into DTV hell? The main reason is director Tony Ching Siu-Tung, who is anything but horrible. As the director of Duel to the Death and Chinese Ghost Story, he established himself as one of the more exciting directors in Hong Kong during the 80s (calling this an achievement would be an understatement). In 2003, he finally made the move to the West like so many of his peers, but he was perhaps too late. While the 90s gave Hong Kong auteurs big budgets to make their Hollywood debuts, Ching was given a low-rent action script that needed a big name to get funding. The fact that the big name ended up being Seagal is unfortunate, but it doesn’t erase the work that Ching and his team put in behind the camera.

For that reason, Belly of the Beast has developed a reputation as a kind of diamond in the rough. Amongst those with the niche passion of rediscovering forgotten action movies, it’s seen as a rare 21st-Century Seagal film that isn’t totally horrendous. Some even praise it as an unappreciated showcase for Ching and everyone else involved save for its bloated headliner.

The proto-Taken logline has Seagal as a retired CIA operator traveling to Thailand to rescue his kidnapped daughter. It has all the ugly white savior tropes that you’d expect in this kind of story, but Ching does manage to capture some of Thailand’s wonder. This is most evident in a subplot involving Seagal’s old CIA partner, played by the always welcome Byron Mann. After accidentally killing an innocent woman in the opening scene, Mann’s character goes to Thailand to become a monk. It’s not long before he goes back to his lethal skillset in order to help save Seagal’s daughter, but scenes involving spirituality are among the most compelling in the film. When the finale introduces some explicitly supernatural Buddhist elements, it’s hard not to wish for a version of this story that strayed further from the generic main plot with Seagal.

In fact, losing Seagal entirely and turning Mann’s character into the protagonist would have been an obvious improvement. Mann is a strong on-screen fighter, and he’s clearly able to perform the bulk of his moves without editing tricks. This is more than can be said for Seagal, who was already in his “don’t ask me to move” era, which is especially noticeable due to Ching’s love of wire work and graceful acrobatics. Even in his prime, Seagal was far from “graceful,” and he never stood a chance at pulling off the high-kicks and mid-air spins that Belly of the Beast is full of. His character is frequently shot from behind or with his head conveniently out of frame, and it’s easy to notice when the protagonist is suddenly fifty pounds lighter.

This is supremely distracting during the film’s many fight scenes, but it doesn’t change that everything else is actually very strong. Most late-stage Seagal movies dumb down their choreography so as not to embarrass him, but there’s something admirable in seeing Ching’s unwillingness to compromise the quality of the action. Saddled with a star he must have known was wrong for the project, he decided to ignore his lead as much as possible and make the movie he wanted to make regardless.

It’s a win-win. A famously delusional Hollywood narcissist got to look far more elegant and skilled than he really was, and the filmmakers were able to deliver something watchable. There’s a kind of beauty to the choreography here, and it falls at an interesting place in action history. The West was still obsessed with Matrix-style wire work (just look at Seagal’s last true blockbuster, Exit Wounds), but genre fans sere just starting to discover the gritty power of Thai stunt teams thanks Ong Bak. Despite being set in Thailand, Belly of the Beast doesn’t have the same intensity as the Thai action scene, but it’s not quite as heightened as so many of the America-friendly “flying through the air” martial arts films of the time. Instead, it exists somewhere in-between. It marries supernatural Wuxia movement with the kind of bone-breaking violence that Seagal always favored, and it has a unmistakably Hong Kong flavor.

This means that, despite all the lazy line reads and painfully obvious stunt-doubling, viewers are still treated to moments like a mid-movie showdown that pits Seagal and Mann against a team of katana-wielding assassins. It’s the only fight that Seagal seems to be fully present for, and he actually holds his own. The scene itself has the classic feel of 20th-century kung fu movies, with lightning-fast attacks and creative takedowns, but the forward-thinking editing and nu-metal backing track (courtesy of Thai band Silly fools) place it firmly in a then-new age of action. For a brief moment, you forget all about Seagal and his baggage, and all is right with the world.

Henry McKeand’s Rating: 5.5/10