This film is atrocious, even by the abysmal standards of Tony Zarindast. Hardcase and Fist are two crimefighters with very different styles - Hardcase is a gun-toting, maverick-yet-somehow-by-the-book white cop, while Fist is an enigmatic, inscrutable Chinese martial arts expert who eschews the use of firearms in line with the best traditions of movie cliche. They learn to respect each other's strength and virtue after the usual initial mutual suspicion. The two team up to defeat some implausibly incompetent, classically Zarindastesque bad guys who have kidnapped somebody, or something like that.<br /><br />Watch out for the brilliantly choreographed gunfight towards the end of the movie when our heroes attack the bad guys' "base" (a bunch of rundown shacks in the middle of some waste ground). It runs thus: Hardcase walks along blithely, gun in hand; single bad guy jumps out from behind a building and shoots twice; misses; Hardcase shoots once; kills bad guy; repeat about 15 times as Hardcase draws closer to whatever the hell it is he's looking for. Best moment: the climactic car chase, which begins with Hardcase in a small car pursuing the chief bad guy, who is driving a station wagon. In the middle of the action, with no explanation offered, the bad guy is suddenly in the small car, and Hardcase is in the station wagon. The chase ends with the bad guy crashing his car into a small river. He emerges from the car on fire, wades through the water to the shore, and promptly burns to death (in slow motion). The awfulness of this movie is so complete, so perfect in every respect, that Tony Zarindast may well be the greatest comedic genius of our time.