Alright, fellow tapeheads, let's rewind to a time when action heroes were effortlessly cool, plots were gloriously straightforward, and the martial arts flew fast and frequently without a wire or pixel in sight. Dig out that worn copy, adjust the tracking just so, because tonight on VHS Heaven, we're diving into 1979's Hot Potato, a slice of late-70s action cheese starring the impossibly charismatic Jim Kelly.
Remember sliding this one off the shelf at the video store? Maybe nestled between a Chuck Norris flick and something starring Pam Grier? The cover alone promised exotic locations and high-kicking mayhem. And while it might not be the first Jim Kelly film that springs to mind after his iconic turn alongside Bruce Lee in Enter the Dragon (1973), Hot Potato delivers a specific brand of funky, rough-around-the-edges adventure that hits a certain nostalgic sweet spot.
### Back in Action, Sort Of...
Okay, let's clear something up right away. You might sometimes see Hot Potato referred to as Black Belt Jones 2 or The Return of Black Belt Jones. While it reunites Kelly with director/writer Oscar Williams, who helmed the original Black Belt Jones (1974), this isn't an official sequel. It's more like a spiritual successor, dropping Kelly's Jones character (this time named, well, Jones... again, but a different one!) into a completely new scenario. Think of it as lightning trying to strike twice, using the same super-cool lightning rod.
The setup is pure pulp adventure: the daughter of a US Senator has been kidnapped in Thailand by a nefarious villain named Carter Rangoon (played with requisite sneer by Sam Hiona). Who you gonna call? Not the Ghostbusters, but Jones, a martial arts expert hired alongside his motley crew – the wisecracking Rhino (George Memmoli, a familiar face often playing lovable lugs or intimidating heavies) and the resourceful Johnny Chicago (Geoffrey Binney, bringing some smooth charm). Their mission: rescue the girl, kick considerable butt.
### Kelly Cool and Jungle Kicks
The main draw here, undoubtedly, is Jim Kelly. By '79, his star, while maybe not as supernova-bright as immediately post-Dragon, still radiated that undeniable cool. The afro, the sideburns, the effortless swagger – it was all intact. Kelly moves with a cat-like grace, and his fight scenes, while perhaps not as polished as in his bigger budget outings, have that raw, physical impact we crave from this era. This was before CGI smoothed everything over; you felt the connection of fist to jaw, the thud of bodies hitting the jungle floor. These were real stunt performers, often Kelly himself, putting their bodies on the line. Remember how grounded and real those impacts seemed back then, even amidst the B-movie plotting?
Director Oscar Williams, who also penned the script, keeps things moving at a brisk pace. He knew his star's strengths and wisely built the action around Kelly's physical prowess. The film leans heavily into its exotic Thailand locations – a popular spot for action flicks seeking production value on a budget back then. Apparently, filming wasn't always smooth sailing in the heat and humidity, but the lush scenery certainly adds a layer of atmosphere you wouldn't get stateside. Does anyone else remember renting movies specifically because they were filmed somewhere far-flung and exciting?
### Quirks and Charm
Let's be honest, Hot Potato isn't high art. The dialogue can be delightfully cheesy, fitting snugly into the Blaxploitation-adjacent action mould of the time. George Memmoli gets most of the comic relief lines as Rhino, providing a necessary counterpoint to Kelly's stoicism. The plot mechanics are fairly basic – infiltrate, fight, rescue – but that's part of the charm. It’s comfort food cinema, delivering exactly what it promises on the tin (or, in our case, the clamshell box).
The action sequences are the highlight. While maybe not reaching the balletic heights of Hong Kong cinema, they possess a grounded energy. You see the effort, the power behind the kicks and punches. There’s a sequence involving ninjas (because of course there is!) that showcases Kelly’s skills effectively. It’s the kind of practical stunt work and choreography that felt incredibly dynamic on our flickering CRT screens, a world away from today’s often weightless digital spectacles. The villains are suitably one-dimensional, existing primarily to get karate-chopped into oblivion by our hero. It's simple, effective, and oddly satisfying.
### Legacy on Magnetic Tape
Was Hot Potato a box office smash? Not exactly. It was more of a grindhouse and drive-in staple, finding its true audience later on home video. For many of us, it became one of those reliable Saturday night rentals – you knew you were getting Jim Kelly, you knew you were getting action, and you knew it would be fun. It sits in that interesting space between his major hits and the more obscure corners of his filmography, a solid entry carried by his magnetic presence. I distinctly remember the slightly grainy picture on my own well-loved tape, the sound occasionally warbling, but none of that mattered when Kelly was unleashing a flurry of kicks.
It’s a film firmly planted in its time, a snapshot of late-70s action sensibilities before the glossier, high-concept blockbusters of the 80s took over. Watching it now evokes that specific feeling of discovering a hidden gem in the action aisle, full of familiar tropes executed with earnest energy.
VHS Heaven Rating: 6/10
Justification: Hot Potato gets a solid 6 primarily for Jim Kelly's undeniable star power and the sheer nostalgic fun factor. The action delivers decent, practical martial arts thrills typical of the era, and the exotic locations add some flavour. However, the somewhat derivative plot, cheesy dialogue, and B-movie production values keep it from reaching the heights of Kelly's best work or the genre's top tier. It knows what it is and delivers straightforward, if unspectacular, entertainment.
Final Thought: It may not be gourmet cinema, but Hot Potato is pure, unadulterated late-70s action comfort food – best served with a side of fuzzy tracking and fond memories of when charisma and a killer roundhouse kick were all you needed.