and Words
Hot summer streets and the pavements are burning
I sit around
Trying to smile but the air is so heavy and dry
Strange voices are sayin′ (what did they say?)
Things I can’t understand
It′s too close for comfort, this heat has got right out of hand
It’s a cruel, (cruel) cruel summer
Leavin’ me here on my own
It′s a cruel, (it′s a cruel) cruel summer
Now you’re gone
Lyric excerpts from Musixmatch.
My sisters and I spent the summer of 1984 watching a movie several times. They released The Karate Kid in the middle of that summer. There was a movie theater that showed midnight movies about five miles from our house on Oakland Park Boulevard and 441. While it was summer, getting out of the movie theater at close to 2 am was fairly common for us. We were a collection of night owls.
I don’t remember precisely why we continued to pick that particular showing. We held restaurant jobs where we often worked until 9 pm; that may have been one reason. It might’ve been the discounted ticket prices at midnight, though I honestly don’t remember how much they were. I nostalgically remember watching that movie several times in the theater.
That familiar drive down State Road 7 to that movie theater became a welcome routine. A modest mall housed that movie theater; a Jefferson’s store sat on the near end of the mall. The movie theater’s entrance sat inside the mall; it looked comparatively small compared to the many screens it hosted.
While I could argue that Florida is the land of perpetual summer, summers in Florida inflicted a special flavor of punishment upon its inhabitants. Sure, other seasons like spring or fall compared to summers in places like Seattle, my new home. The Sunshine State showed outright hostility during those months in which we grew accustomed.
During the days, we survived the hot Florida sun that melted the asphalt. I occasionally dared to wander out to get our mail with bare feet from sheer pigheadedness. My feet instinctively skipped over the surface of our driveway like beads of water on a hot pan. I walked on the outer edges of my feet where they were most calloused. Had I stood there much longer, I would’ve likely blistered my feet.
On the days when it rained, it poured from the skies in the afternoon. The afternoon sun, still potent, heated the wet streets. It turned the puddles into steam; I could almost see the vapor emanate from the ground. It transformed Fort Lauderdale into a sauna. Merely walking outside would drench my shirt, though I occasionally wondered whether it was water vapor from the air that refused to evaporate or sweat from my body attempting to regulate the unbearable heat.
Bananarama’s Cruel Summer cued up in the movie while Daniel LaRusso tried out for the soccer team. While the song itself speaks of loneliness and abandonment, the scene in the movie aligns with his bullies goading him into an altercation. In an instant, his protective response cruelly dashed the promise of acceptance and normalcy in his new school.
While my sisters and I never discussed it, this film spoke to me in ways that others did not. Naturally, the triumphant story of Daniel against a collection of bullies resonated with me and many others. From the start of the film, we watched as his romance with Ali started, faltered, and then blossomed. Their relationship progressed in a way that felt natural and believable. The conflict with the bullies stemmed from that initial flirtation on the beach. This friction carried onto the soccer field during the tryouts and lasted until the very end. I imagine that this portion of the film spoke to many.
It spoke to me, having only recently moved from Puerto Rico to Florida. Though that migration occurred about six years before, I still struggled with the tail end of that move. The movie started with Daniel and his mom’s move from New Jersey to California, their cross-country drive documented during the opening credits. My hurdles were bigger, including both language and cultural obstacles, but the parallels remained. We were both transplants aspiring to fit in.
My mom moved to Florida with the three of us after my father died into a modest duplex. She had no formal education and did not speak English. We survived, though modestly. My mom provided us with a roof over our heads and our meals. At the age of 12, I started working washing dishes for anything else I needed. There’s no sugarcoating it; we were poor. The film mirrored a similar class structure as Daniel meets Ali’s parents; henceforth, Daniel is referred to as “the boy from Receda.” This social gap is most painfully demonstrated as he struggled on the floor of the country club’s kitchen, with bright red spaghetti sauce staining his white pants. As I navigated high school, there was a clear gap between those with means and those without.
Though perhaps what I found most endearing about this film is its dignified portrayal of an Asian character. While Mr. Miyagi certainly has his idiosyncrasies, they’re not portrayed as cartoonish Asian stereotypes. We never discovered his first name, though it didn’t matter. He was fine as Mr. Miyagi. The story did not revolve around his character, but it could not occur without him. The film introduced subtle pieces of culture, from his meticulously manicured Bonsai trees to his beautifully managed Koi pond, without jarring awkwardness. It didn’t feel like a parlor trick, like friends who ask me to say something in Cantonese do.
Finally, there’s the romance with Ali. If only I had met a young woman who expressed such interest in me, but I could only hope. It had all started with flirting on a California beach. It proceeded to his defending her honor and finally to his getting his ass kicked. I honestly don’t know if I would’ve done the same, especially since she was perfectly capable of defending herself.
The Karate Kid launched a series of movies and even a television show; one might even say that it’s a franchise. With each subsequent release, the movies have become formulaic and predictable. I had become vested in the characters, and as they swapped out characters, I started to lose interest. The Next Karate Kid with Hilary Swank kept the character of Mr. Miyagi, but not Daniel LaRusso.
The latest is Cobra Kai on Netflix. It’s set in the same California town where Daniel has now become a successful car salesman. The show is almost a tongue-in-cheek parody of its former self. Characters seem like caricatures of their original film roles; this is especially true of Johnny Lawrence’s character. The show has brought back many of the actors (and characters) from the original films. It does have a certain fun nostalgia, though it doesn’t rise to the depth of their original roles.
However, none of the subsequent releases have matched the charm and heart of the original. The first sequel, set in Okinawa, was a worthy second chapter to the first, though the lackadaisical elimination of Ali’s character (formerly played by Elisabeth Shue) saddened me.