MIAMI CONNECTION – “The Worst Film of 1988”

Miami Connection may not be on the same level as The Room, but in the world of “so bad it’s good” cinema, it’s gaining increasing recognition. Whispers had long suggested that this film would tear viewers’ corneas out, and the trailer promised something even more eighties than Back to the Future or American Ninja. The movie itself has quite a history—it was a total flop in 1987 but has since become a cult delicacy for fans of gloriously messed-up films. Years after its premiere, it has been screened at festivals and even received a Blu-ray release. But is this truly The Room of martial arts cinema? Has the combination of two currently trendy elements—’80s nostalgia and the “so bad it’s good” factor—resulted in something spectacular? Presenting to you: the worst film of 1988, as dubbed by the press.

A group of student roommates—who are also orphans—live together in Miami. They come from different backgrounds (a Korean, an African American, and Americans with Italian, Irish, and Israeli roots), but they share a deep bond. Together, they attend classes, practice Taekwondo, and perform as Dragon Sound—a rock-pop band spreading messages of love and unity. Their idyllic lives are disrupted by a motorcycle gang of ninjas involved in the cocaine trade, who couldn’t care less about positive values. A confrontation between these two groups is inevitable.

“These stupid ninjas and their stupid cocaine,” one character says with disgust, signaling to the viewer exactly what kind of film they’re watching. Yes, this is a production crafted by filmmakers with the sensitivity of teenagers—in its most innocent form. The young heroes don’t swear, don’t drink, and instead enjoy laughing a lot and feeding each other grapes. However, in a cheerful beach scene, a mustachioed member of the gang harasses random girls, aggressively demanding a kiss. Okay, so maybe we’re actually in kindergarten? Then again, doesn’t the very plot summary already suggest that?

Either way, the film’s childlike innocence is omnipresent. This is especially interesting because the driving force behind the movie is Y.K. Kim—who, at the time of production, was already middle-aged and completely unsuited for the role of a student. Kim earned a black belt in Taekwondo at 14 and later moved to the U.S., where he founded a martial arts school. The director of Miami Connection spotted him in a TV interview and decided Kim was a natural-born star. He brought him onto the project, and Kim became so passionate about it that he soon became the producer and co-director—going so far as to take out loans and even mortgage his own school to finance the film. His English is barely understandable, but that doesn’t matter. His imagination, energy, and sheer enthusiasm set the film’s tone. Kim loves simple stories where good triumphs, friendship and mutual support are worth more than all the drug deals in the world, and Taekwondo is not just about beating people up—it’s a philosophy of mind and heart.

Apparently, Kim had only seen six movies in his entire life before making Miami Connection. Given the film’s uniquely bizarre end result, I believe it. This guy is a legend—not just a respected martial arts teacher but also a motivational speaker and, according to the internet, a force for positivity. Much of that seeps into his performance, as Kim essentially plays the group’s unofficial father figure.

The movie is split into three main segments: slice-of-life, action, and musical. The first feels like a strangely authentic depiction of human relationships—assuming you’re Tommy Wiseau, the only person besides Kim who might actually understand what’s going on. A “normal” viewer will see nothing but idiotic dialogue, bizarre confessions, and absurd behavior. The standout subplot here involves Jim, who searches for his long-lost father, leading to moments of unintended emotional heaviness. Given that most of the actors were martial artists rather than trained performers, the action segment fares the best.

The fight scenes are surprisingly dynamic—though most of the time, enemies just stand still, waiting to be “pummeled” by the heroes. These sequences were filmed in a rush—without permits—so the crew had to shoot quickly and discreetly. Maybe that’s why they have a raw, street-fighting energy.

Dragon Sound’s music consists of simplistic, shirtless rock-pop, with guitar licks thrown in for good measure. Friends for Eternity is about… well, exactly what the title says. Against the Ninja is prophetic—the band sings it before they’ve even encountered any ninjas. The concert scenes are the best-edited and most authentically 80s parts of the film. Dragon Sound is hilariously bad at “rocking out,” yet they try so hard that it somehow works. Before you know it, you’ll be bobbing your head to the music. And whether you like it or not, these two songs will stick in your brain—they’re performed in their entirety on screen and have that cheap pop catchiness that embeds itself deep in your psyche.

These three segments constantly overlap, causing abrupt tonal shifts. But chaos is the name of the game—Miami Connection frequently abandons its main plot for random detours (like following a karate-fighting restaurateur or a karate-fighting nightclub owner), and it throws in filler scenes (biker gangs partying outdoors and in bars for no apparent reason). The director also floods the movie with an excess of rival factions—aside from the main villains, there’s an additional gang that hates Dragon Sound simply because they’re stealing their gig in the local music scene. It’s heartwarming to see that even ruthless criminals in this universe have a passion for music.

The final act delivers more intensity than the rest of the film combined. Let’s just say most of the fake blood was saved for the grand finale. These darker moments hit strangely after we’ve spent most of the film in a goofy, almost plush-like atmosphere. But that’s part of Miami Connection’s charm—strange faces, absurd dialogue, inexplicable scene transitions. It’s a sentimental-yet-violent fever dream. Cheesy but heartfelt. More likely to induce smiles than outright laughter. Surprisingly well-shot but with wildly inconsistent quality in every other aspect. It’s an 80s time capsule that follows a bizarre dream logic where everyone knows karate, and characters constantly behave in ways that don’t match their age or circumstances. And yet, at its core, it’s a crude but earnest ode to youth and friendship.

If Miami Connection were as good as its trailer, it would be a masterpiece. As it stands, it’s just OK. And by “OK,” I mean you’ll have to endure a fair amount of dull moments to appreciate its gloriously unhinged sections.

The end credits claim the film was made to promote world peace. That’s interesting and telling. Tommy Wiseau dreams of a world where everyone is happy. Neil Breen (Fateful Findings) wants to free society from corporate lies and corruption. The director of Birdemic wants to highlight ecological issues. And Y.K. Kim? He says that friendship is forever, ninjas suck, drugs are bad, and people should exercise more.

Have idealists found their last refuge in Z-movie cinema?