To say that I loved the Karate Kid is an understatement. This version of the film was built from the ground up as a starring vehicle for Jaden Smith, the fresh faced son of Will and Jada Pinkett-Smith. What usually comes with the remaking of a childhood favorite is the fear that its heart and soul will be ripped out and sacrificed at the Altar of the Cool. Instead, The Karate Kid completely blindsided me with its respect for the original while also not trying too hard to emulate it. The Karate Kid is its own movie, choosing to be modern without trying too hard to be hip. It sticks to the familiar premise of inner strength, honor, and personal pride that made the 1984 film so powerful.
Smith stars as Dre Parker, a 12 year old kid forced to move to China when his mom(Taraji P. Henson, who can wear that purple tracksuit in every movie from now on please) is transferred to a new job. Culture shock, chopsticks, and schoolyard bullies instantly turn Dre against his new home. That is until he uses his broad smile and suave to charm a cute girl, a violin playing phenom named Mei Ying. Unfortunately, he also manages to snag an archnemesis, who quickly puts Dre's lame attempt at kung fu to shame and beats him down brutally. The beatings continue, with Dre realizing a little too late that in China practically everybody can kick your butt. He discovers that his newfound enemy trains at a dojo under his sensei's cruel guidance. No mercy. No weakness. No surrender.
Knowing he's never going to be able to defend himself, or make any friends as long as his face in the dirt, Dre turns to the quiet old maintenance man in their building, Mr. Han(Jackie Chan) for training and a little bit of homespun wisdom that would make Confucious smile. Making a deal to enter Dre in a martial arts tournament against his foes, Dre and Mr. Han embark on a training regiment that lacks the memorable wax on/wax off. Sorry, "jacket on" doesn't have the same ring to it. They keep the grueling workouts light for the most part. This is a kids film after all, and Jaden Smith is years younger and smaller than Macchio was, so the story has to be played differently. Because this is China and not Jersey, we need and get a couple of scenes of Dre practicing kicks on the Great Wall, or drooling over kung fu masters lost in meditation. It all works by capturing the wonderment of his fish out of water predicament.
Jackie Chan lacks the serenity of Pat Morita's Oscar nominated performance. He plays the character his own way, more like a drunken master. The difference is that when Morita put on his butt-kicking hat, it came as a complete shock. When Jackie Chan does it, you're kinda waiting for it. Not that there's anything wrong with that. For once, his wushu style of comedic kung fu, which relies mostly on avoidance and momentum is perfectly appropriate. Nobody wants to watch Jackie Chan beat up a bunch of kids, even if some of them look big enough to take him on. The real shock here is how good Jaden Smith is. Definitely his father's son, he's got more charm in his braids than most kids have in their entire bodies. While there are moments where he's clearly trying too hard to cool, he just like his character calms down and takes on a more mature confidence. You want to see him succeed, win the girl and defeat his foes.
At 2 hours and 10 minutes, you'd think kids would start getting antsy after awhile. The time flies by, however, and Smith is captivating enough on screen to keep anyone interested. In a crowded theater full of kids I never once got the impression that the natives were getting restless. When the inevitable conclusion occurs, and we're treated to a final, aerial attack that nobody this side of Tony Jaa could perform, you don't really care that it's improbable. Unlike the original film, they never make it about one single tactic. It's about a transformation of spirit, and overcoming one's fears.
Whether or not this is better than the original is irrelevant, but it definitely is its equal. The Karate Kid is pitch perfect. The child in me is very happy right now.
