When seasoned action hero Jean-Claude Van Damme boldly proclaimed that it was time for him to plant his frequently-naked rump into the proverbial director's chair, guess what kind of movie he and collaborator Frank Dux decided to make? Go on - guess! An action/thriller set inside a maximum security prison? Nope. Guess again. The pasty white boy in the back of the room suggested a time-traveling caper involving wonky politics and lots of spin-kicking madness. Wrong again. Since nobody around here seems to have clue one about the big guy's directorial debut, I'll smash the suspense with my answer-filled hammer.

A tournament flick. He helmed a tournament flick. How brutally original and impossibly safe. Insert audible sigh here.

Are you really that surprised? You shouldn't be, since the muscle-bound master of the helicopter kick had already starred in no less than three competition-oriented motion pictures before lending his creative talents to the 1996 psuedo-epic The Quest. Despite the critical lashing it received upon release, Van Damme's directorial debut isn't as bad as the opening five minutes suggests. If you can get past the sweeping melodramatic score and our hero's dodgy elderly accent, you'll discover a visually-stunning martial arts film that is ultimately hindered by a script obviously written by two ten year-old kung fu fanatics. Had it not been quite so redundant and familiar, this could have easily been Jean-Claude's masterpiece.

Our hero stars as Christopher Dubois, a lovable New York City clown who plays big brother to all the little scamps running around the city circa 1925. After stealing some money from a gaggle of heavily-armed gangsters, he suddenly finds himself on the run from both the mob and the law. One daring escape later, Chris is cruising the seven seas as a stowaway on some sort of dusty cargo ship operated by a crew of filthy seaman. Naturally, the big guy is promptly discovered and chained up in the bowels of the boat, where a filthy deckhand threatens him with a gleaming straight razor and a yellow smile. Before they can cut a nifty slice out of their hunky visitor, the crew is assaulted by a band of booty-hungry pirates led by former 007 Roger Moore and his portly sidekick Harry Smythe.