Senryu are not as familiar to Westerners as the more popular haiku. Senryu look much like haiku, but they don’t usually contain a seasonal word and they’re often more like aphorisms. They’re little bits of doggerel that often contain truths hidden in humor or quiet commentaries on the human condition. There are several senryu that address the life and culture of the samurai class and its martial arts. It’s revealing to look at them because they give us an idea of how the samurai and their arts were perceived in their age. Given the unchanging elements of human nature, these senryu also have some intriguing applications for today’s martial artist. The Samurai in a Rainstorm / Not Running to Shelter This senryu expresses the dignity that was characteristic of the warrior class. In this beautiful word picture, we can imagine other classes, as the thunderstorm breaks overhead and starts splattering big drops, beginning to scurry, to scramble for shelter. The samurai, though, continues to walk on placidly. In Japanese, this calm, composed walk is called shizo-shizo . It isn’t arrogance. It isn’t haughtiness. It’s a kind of dignity that doesn’t crumble under circumstances. Becoming Strong / The Young Lord Becomes Vulgar “Young lord” is the translation of wakatono . It could describe the son of a daimyo, or feudal lord. We can see the young man, privileged, accustomed to others waiting on him, who quickly grows to take these advantages for granted. He becomes self-centered and thoughtless, expecting others to overlook his rude behavior. If you’ve ever seen any of the conceited “champions” in a dojo — people who, because of their skills or tournament success, are treated preferentially — this senryu will seem like it was written yesterday rather than 300 years ago. Because They Are Fond of Him / They Teach Him How to Cut His Belly This senryu expresses the attitude seniors and mentors should have toward the son of their master. It seems very cruel. Hara wo kiru  is the phrase here; it’s better understood as hara-kiri . To be able to kill oneself if necessary was a skill the warrior needed in some periods of Japanese history. It could be ordered by one’s lord, one might do it to prevent dishonor, or it might be decreed as a matter of law for some crimes. Hara-kiri  was legal only for the samurai class. If the young warrior was to grow into a real samurai, his elders, because they cared for him, would teach him to do it correctly. It’s ironic, but it was a way of life. Because of Her Reputation as a Naginata Practitioner / No Man Came to Court Her This one expresses a timeless sentiment. If a woman becomes too physically competent or skillful, a lot of men will be intimidated. If you’re a guy, ask some of the women in your dojo about the accuracy of this notion. There are some interesting historical clues in this verse. First, the naginata, a long-bladed polearm, was not originally thought of as a woman’s weapon. Women didn’t become the predominant practitioners of naginata-jutsu  until rather late, well into the late 18th century. By then, after more than a century of peace, the samurai class had devolved. They were, for the most part, no longer warriors, just bureaucrats or playboys, and often had no martial spirit at all. We can easily imagine the weak, effeminate young men of the Tenmei era being nervous about even approaching a skilled female martial artist. Senryu were most often composed by townspeople, merchants, and non-samurai. Since senryu were frequently comic, it was natural that the samurai were sometimes the objects of derision. Samurai Quarrels Don’t End / Until There Are Two Widows These words poke fun at the warrior’s sense of self-importance and his delicate ego that wouldn’t allow him to back down, even when the dispute was silly and inconsequential. A Last Resort / The Samurai Takes His Soul to the Pawn Shop This senryu sneers at the samurai’s presumably elevated sense of integrity, one in which his sword was his soul. We can see the townsmen quietly laughing at the proud samurai who, reduced to poverty, is forced to sell his most precious treasure to afford a bowl of soup. Senryu also could celebrate the romantic image of the warrior class, however. Cherry Blossoms and Chrysanthemums / Both Can Teach Us How to Die Cherry blossoms are inextricably connected with the samurai. The blossoms come into perfect bloom, then the petals scatter and fall. The samurai were supposed to live the same way — living fully and beautifully, then dying while still perfect. Chrysanthemums, on the other hand, wither and fade slowly, giving up their lives reluctantly. The nobility of a “good death” is obviously preferred in this senryu. The best example of samurai poetry, however, eschews this romantic nonsense and looks at life much more realistically. One captures the uncertainty of life, the foolishness of thinking we can control fate, particularly when the rising and falling tides of war wash in and out across a country like ancient Japan. There’s an almost comic fatalism in this senryu, one that exposes how fragile and imaginary our plans can be: When His Forehead Wound Was Completely Healed / His Head Was Cut Off

Each week's Black Belt Watchlist is free to watch on Pluto TV! Sworn to Justice  stars martial arts icon Cynthia Rothrock , No Retreat, No Surrender ’s Kurt McKinney , and legendary character actor Mako . Watch now : https://pluto.tv/us/on-demand/movies/60ef386abfce9f0013d7d241 Before superheroes dominated the screen, Cynthia Rothrock  was already out there serving justice — with fists of fury and a badge of honor. In Sworn to Justice  (1996), Rothrock steps into one of her most complex and commanding roles yet, blending intense martial arts action with a dramatic, emotionally charged performance that marked a turning point in her career in Sworn to Justice . After a brutal attack leaves her sister and nephew dead, Rothrock’s character — a psychologist — finds herself torn between the courtroom and the streets. By day, she serves as a defense witness, fighting for justice within the system. By night, she becomes a psychic-powered vigilante , tracking down her family's killers and unleashing her formidable martial arts prowess in a storm of retribution. Fresh off her Hong Kong run, this role showcases Rothrock’s full range  — not just as a fighter, but as a leading woman. For many fans and critics, Sworn to Justice  was the film that elevated her from action star to cinematic icon . And let’s not overlook one of the film’s boldest elements: Rothrock’s confident, sensual screen presence . Her role includes a few tasteful, scenes that highlight not just her physicality but her feminine power and control . The fight choreography delivers exactly what martial arts enthusiasts have come to expect from Rothrock — clean, punishing, and precise. But it's the combination of psychological edge, supernatural twist, and a commanding lead performance that makes Sworn to Justice a true standout in her filmography — and a must-watch for devoted practitioners and action cinema aficionados alike.

Each week's Black Belt Watchlist is free to watch on Pluto TV! It’s the primordial ooze from which all ninja movies sprang—the Mike Stone –inspired classic that launched Sho Kosugi into global stardom. Enter the Ninja  is this week’s Black Belt Magazine Watch List selection, now streaming free on Pluto TV for viewers across the platform. Watch now : https://pluto.tv/us/on-demand/movies/5d9e552b1727763a8d6f63be Released in 1981, Enter the Ninja  follows Cole, a white ninja (played by Franco Nero ) trained in the ancient art of Ninjutsu, who travels to the Philippines to visit an old war buddy. But paradise doesn’t last long—Cole finds himself caught in a deadly land dispute with a ruthless oil tycoon and his army of mercenaries. Enter Sho Kosugi as Hasegawa, a vengeful black-clad ninja with unmatched skills and a score to settle. Packed with over-the-top action, dramatic standoffs, and the kind of stealthy shuriken showdowns that defined a genre, this cult classic set the stage for the ninja craze of the 1980s. Watch it now, free—because sometimes, you just need a ninja in white pajamas to save the day.

The knife and its use as a defensive tool are always contentious topics — not only with respect to if and when you should use one but also with respect to how. When I wrote about knives in my book Combatives for Street Survival, I was a subject-matter expert for the defense in a homicide case in Virginia. Here are the facts: A young man was horsing around with a much larger, older man who was known to be a violent, ill-tempered felon. The horseplay evolved into a far more serious confrontation, and the larger man began to severely beat the young man. Having knocked the smaller man down, he grabbed a plastic lawn chair and started hitting him with it. The young man, in fear for his life — or, at least, a terrible beating — drew a folding knife and thrust it out repeatedly in an attempt to make the attacker back off. The larger man continued to attack, however, and the knife eventually struck a lethal target. The young man was found guilty of manslaughter. He wound up serving time for doing what he believed was necessary to protect himself. Introducing a Weapon Introducing a weapon into any confrontation is problematic. Many times, it’s viewed as an escalation of violence instead of a legitimate means to stop an attack. It’s difficult to get a judge or jury to internalize the terror a person was experiencing when he or she felt compelled to draw a weapon in self-defense. And then there’s the inevitable “Well, why didn’t he …?” and “Why couldn’t they have …?” second-guessing and rearview-mirror conjecturing. I’m not sure there’s a formulaic, reliable answer to when you can legally use a knife in self-defense. There certainly are many anecdotal, emotional and impassioned answers to the question, but do you really want to rely — truly rely — on the axiom “Better to be judged by 12 than carried by six”? Suffice to say there are numerous self-defense scenarios that seemingly justify making the decision to use an edged weapon to protect yourself. So the next question is, what are the conditions in your particular situation and what is your intent? Intent Matters Your intent should always be to stop an attack, not to kill or wound. Obviously, gratuitously injuring an attacker is never acceptable or lawful. When you’re being judged after an incident that compelled you to draw a weapon, intent is very important — it’s second only to the factual details of the event. Your actions are the only things that can be considered in determining your intent. Why is all that important? Because it translates to what you will do with your knife, which translates to what techniques you need to know right down to how you should hold it to achieve your goal, which is to defend yourself. Techniques and Tactics As I said at the beginning of this column, it’s always contentious when people start arguing about the best ways to employ a knife. My opinion is that it’s most important to consider range and let that drive your tactics and techniques. For example, if you believe you're justified in drawing your knife based on the situation and your attacker is at range, holding him outside to stop an attack would be reasonable and best accomplished using Western techniques such as snap cuts and slashes that are intended to prevent him from closing. In a more confined situation, where the attacker is right on top of you, ergonomics, range of motion, space availability and motor efficiency dictate a different approach. In situations like these, the pikal technique makes more sense because it enables you to clear, fend, trap and stab effectively. Which, of course, means a change of grip. That inevitably leads to arguments against your changing grip once you’re in a fight for your life. It also ignites discussions about which type of knife is best for self-defense and if you’re unnecessarily hamstringing yourself by committing to a purpose-built knife for one style or another. No Absolutes — Only Training As in all self-defense discussions, there are no perfect or absolute answers. Training is ultimately the key to unlocking your personal best performance under duress and achieving that elusive balance between utility and variety of techniques. I feel strongly that the best way to accomplish this with regard to knives is not necessarily training knife on knife. Although knife-on-knife situations are possible, they’re improbable. As such, some portion of your training should focus on this, but it’s more important to focus on the myriad other situations that might compel you to draw your knife. Examples include multiple-attacker scenarios in which you're defending your space against repeated attacks, ground fights in which you're being choked (potentially to death), and carjacking situations in which a weapon is deployed inside the vehicle or as you enter your vehicle and you can’t escape. As simple as a knife is, the situations in which you might have to use one aren’t. Yes, stabbing and slashing are brutally simple, but knowing whether you should  do that — or use a better tactic — never is.

Many Black Belt  readers may be familiar with the Japanese phrase ken ki tai ichi . It means that one’s weapon ( ken , which can be written to refer to a sword or a fist but which really applies to any weapon), one’s spirit or energy ( ki ), and one’s body ( tai ) must all be ichi  – “one.” All must be employed in coordination and at the same time. If your weapon reaches the target but your body positioning is poor, it’s unlikely your strike will be immediately or convincingly effective. If you have a strong spirit but lack the proper weapon – let’s say you cannot make a solid fist – once again, the chance of failure is significant. It’s very common to see less-skilled karateka  poke or jab at their opponents in sparring. They’re delivering weapons, but their bodies remain unconnected, so it looks more like a slapfest than a fight. All three elements must be present; all must work together. Let’s look at the other side of the coin of ken ki tai ichi . That other side is the idea that not only must your strikes have all three of these elements, but it also must destroy all three of mine. It’s worthwhile to think about this because there are many ramifications. One of the problems faced by the samurai in duels and even more so in battle was one faced by all pre-modern warriors. Weapons, unlike the high-impact ones we have today, didn’t possess a lot of stopping power. An enemy could, when sufficiently energized by adrenaline, absorb half a dozen arrows and keep coming at you. A spear thrust or a sword cut could be gruesome and lead quickly to death – but not before the wounded man got in his own strike against you. The samurai were professional warriors throughout much of their history as a caste. They could be formidable. Hit one right between the eyes with a club and he would keep coming. Even if his intent was stopped, the momentum of his weapon could continue. (It’s fascinating that today’s law enforcement officers face the same problem with violent, drug-addled criminals who don’t respond to pain-compliance locks.) To be successful in stopping an enemy, the samurai sought to attack and destroy instantly the weapon (an actual weapon, or the hands or arms manipulating it), the intent and energy, and the body that supported the attack. It wasn’t enough to generate a perfect amalgam of ken ki tai . It was necessary to take out these same elements in the enemy. Not all martial arts share this philosophy. A good example is the teaching, which can be found in a number of combat arts, of “defanging the snake.” This usually means that one strikes the hand of an opponent that’s holding a weapon. If I have a knife in my grasp and you smack my hand hard, stinging it or perhaps even doing some damage, I drop the knife or at least am dissuaded from continuing the attack. The effectiveness of this strategy is not the point here. The point is that it’s very different from the concept that has always guided Japanese martial arts. In the budo , particularly in the classical budo  of the samurai, there isn’t really any aim to defang the snake. The intent is to kill the snake. This distinction is critical in understanding the different goals on which different arts are designed. The twin crescent horns or deer-antler knives used by kung fu  practitioners have their origin in weapons that were used in places where spilling blood was socially unacceptable. They could be used to pin an attacker against a wall or on the ground. There are some traditional Japanese implements — pole arms, with big hooks on the business end — that were used to entangle the sleeves of a bad guy or pin him. These were law-enforcement tools, however, and not meant for the battlefield. If you look at the armory of the samurai, you will see very few weapons that were designed to hold an opponent or prevent him from fighting. On the contrary, they were meant to kill. They were meant to allow the user to make the perfect strike, one that destroyed not only an enemy’s attack but also his will to fight and his physical ability to do so. Don’t assume that we’re talking about one culture’s art being better than another. Don’t believe that this mentality, of completely destroying an opponent, means that Japanese martial arts are the “real thing” any more so than any other martial or combat art. Different arts address the differences in cultures and countries, circumstances and histories. There is no point in making comparisons. What is worth considering is how this classical martial arts concept applies — or does not — to an art like karate. Karate is not a martial art, as we have discussed before. It was not practiced by a martial class. It was not created to kill instantly, to devastate. It had different goals and a different approach. When it was introduced to mainland Japan, its early pioneers there worked tirelessly to make it respectable and accepted, and that meant making it “Japanese.” That’s how we got ideas like ikken hisatsu , or “killing with a single strike,” which were not a traditional part of Okinawan karate. Were these efforts successful? Did they create more problems for karate than they solved? These are good things to think about when you’re considering just what constitutes a perfect strike.

Each week's Black Belt Watchlist is free to watch on Pluto TV! This Week’s Black Belt Watchlist  is a packed tour de force  starring Scott Adkins , now streaming free on Pluto TV  for viewers across the platform. Watch now : https://pluto.tv/us/on-demand/movies/6824d58730b839eca597d4a7 Directed by the Kirby Brothers  and co-written by Adkins and Stu Small, this sequel to Accident Man  delivers a globe-trotting, gut-busting, roundhouse-kicking ride that martial arts fans won’t want to miss. Accident Man: Hitman’s Holiday  (2022) is a blistering blend of brutal martial arts  and offbeat comedy  that proves once again why Scott Adkins  is one of the most electrifying action stars in the game. We can’t say enough about his talents — not just his world-class fight skills, but also the sharp comedic timing and charisma he brings to every scene. Filmed in the streets of Valletta, Malta, the story picks up with Mike Fallon (Adkins) trying to outrun his violent past and ease his conscience. To keep his skills razor-sharp, Mike pays a ferocious local martial artist (the phenomenal Sarah Chang ) to ambush him at random, just to keep him on his toes. Yes — that’s how Fallon relaxes. With the help of gadget-geek sidekick Finicky Fred (Perry Benson), Mike ends up facing off against a rogues' gallery of over-the-top killers — including ninjas, psycho clowns, and eccentric international assassins  — all in the name of friendship, survival, and a little bit of redemption. The Black Belt Magazine team loves Hitman’s Holiday  because it’s not just action — it’s martial arts action done right . Fight scenes tightly choreographed, bursting with style and real technique. The film doesn't take itself too seriously, and that's part of its charm. It's gleefully violent, wickedly funny, and a true celebration of hand-to-hand combat. Adkins treats the audience to fight scenes that are as inventive as they are devastating  — packed with nods to kung fu cinema, British brawling, and everything in between. A ninja, a killer clown, and a whole gauntlet of wild assassins . What more could a martial arts fan ask for?

Before ninjas were everywhere—from cartoons and video games to Halloween costumes—there was Sho Kosugi, the man who helped introduce the mysterious, masked martial artist to Western audiences and turned ninja films into a full-blown pop culture phenomenon. In the 1980s, if there was a ninja on screen, chances are it was Kosugi—silent, swift, and deadly. Born in Tokyo in 1948, Sho Kosugi began martial arts training at age 5, eventually earning black belts in karate and kendo, and studying judo and ninjutsu. He moved to Los Angeles in his twenties, where he worked odd jobs before landing a breakout role in Enter the Ninja  (1981). Though he played the villain opposite Franco Nero, Kosugi’s intensity, technique, and charisma outshone the lead—audiences couldn’t take their eyes off him. That performance launched a trilogy of ninja classics for Cannon Films: Revenge of the Ninja  (1983): Kosugi stars as a grieving father who relocates to the U.S., only to be pulled into a deadly web of betrayal and crime. This is arguably his most famous role and features his real-life son Kane Kosugi as his on-screen son. Ninja III: The Domination  (1984): A campy cult favorite that blends martial arts with horror and supernatural possession—Kosugi plays the exorcist ninja trying to stop a vengeful spirit. Pray for Death  (1985): Kosugi plays a peaceful man forced to become a ninja once again to protect his family in a brutal, action-packed revenge tale. He followed with Rage of Honor  (1987) and Blind Fury  (1989), then later returned as the antagonist Lord Ozunu in Ninja Assassin  (2009), bringing his career full circle for a new generation of fans. Kosugi didn’t just play a ninja—he defined  what audiences worldwide would imagine when they heard the word. His legacy shaped action cinema, inspired a generation of martial artists, and ensured the ninja would remain a symbol of mystery and power. In the shadows of cinema history, Sho Kosugi still stands tall—katana in hand, eyes sharply looking ahead, and legacy untouchable. Fun Facts: Sho Kosugi trained and fought in many martial arts (karate, kendo, judo, iaido, kobudo, Aikido, ninjutsu, plus Shotokan and Taekwondo), lending authenticity to his films. He served as stunt coordinator, fight choreographer, and technical advisor on his projects. His son Kane Kosugi became a Japanese media star: Ninja Sentai Kakuranger, Godzilla: Final Wars , DOA: Dead or Alive , and roles in Sentai, Ultraman, and Kamen Rider series. Sho founded the Sho Kosugi Institute, authored martial arts writings, and taught martial arts and acting seminars across Japan, the U.S., and beyond

Each week's Black Belt Watchlist is free to watch on Pluto TV! This week on the Black Belt Watchlist , we spotlight a visually stunning martial arts epic: House of Flying Daggers —a film where beauty, betrayal, and blade work collide. Watch now :  https://pluto.tv/us/on-demand/movies/5c12a8d864c71ea53df17390 This masterpiece is a must-watch for martial arts fans. Don’t miss Zhang Ziyi at her fiercest, Andy Lau at his coolest, and some of the most breathtaking fight scenes ever put to film. Set in the final years of the Tang Dynasty, the empire is under siege from rebel factions. Among them is the mysterious House of Flying Daggers , a resistance group stealing from the corrupt to aid the oppressed. Two imperial police deputies—played by the legendary Andy Lau  and Takeshi Kaneshiro —are assigned to investigate Mei, a blind dancer portrayed by Zhang Ziyi  ( Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon ). But as both men fall under her spell, their mission takes a deadly and unexpected turn. This isn’t just a romantic thriller—it’s a martial arts showcase. From elegant swordplay to mesmerizing choreography, House of Flying Daggers  exemplifies the poetic grace and power of classic Wuxia cinema.

The July 7, 2015, edition of The Washington Post  described an incident in which a man on a moving train allegedly punched a passenger until he fell, then stabbed him repeatedly in the torso and arms until he died. As the crime unfolded, other passengers in the coach watched; not one intervened. The tendency to not get involved, dubbed the “bystander effect,” is becoming the norm these days, particularly in big cities where a sense of community doesn’t exist. Rather than helping the person in distress, people simply ignore the assault — or start recording it. In rural settings, there still exists enough of a community feel to make people rush to help neighbors in need, especially among the older generation. But in metropolitan areas, you encounter more and more stories like the one above from Washington, D.C. It seems everyone is waiting for someone else — be it the government, police or anyone with authority — to help first. Sadly, that seldom happens. The good news is, it’s not always like that. We can find many cases in which all that was required was for someone — anyone — to start helping. That usually opens the floodgates and other citizens jump in. Recall the actions of Jeremy Glick, Todd Beamer and the other brave passengers who chose to take on the terrorists who hijacked Flight 93 on September 11, 2001. It’s an easy-enough concept: Create or find a leader and someone’s bound to follow. Once that happens, more people will feel comfortable following because they perceive a lower risk of being singled out and harmed. In that tragic D.C. stabbing, a single leader could have started a movement on the train. That’s not to say anyone is to blame — there’s no shame in not getting involved. It’s scary, it’s bloody, it’s violent. It takes a special kind of psychotic to stab another human being in anger and hatred. It’s a personal, tactile, messy affair. Jumping into the middle of it is daunting. Afterward, many who witnessed the carnage said the same thing: “I was waiting for someone else to step in, then I would’ve helped. There wasn’t anything I could have done on my own.” And they’re probably right. Taking down a violent person who’s wielding a knife and has no regard for human life is a difficult task. In no way does that mean it’s hopeless, however. By definition, martial artists train to prepare for all kinds of physical conflict. There are numerous steps you can take now to ready yourself for a situation in which you might have to neutralize a knife attack aimed at a third party. Taking Action First, understand there’s power in numbers. If you’re trying to take down an active stabber on your own, you’ll need skill, strength, speed, explosiveness, a combat mindset and possibly a bit of luck. Your chances dramatically improve if you have allies. Your chances improve exponentially if the person (or people) on your side has trained with you and together you have a plan. But let’s assume you’re on your own when you decide to intervene. Don’t think of disarming the attacker in the traditional sense. In other words, forget trying to take away his knife. Your primary goals should be to stop the next stab from occurring, to control the assailant sufficiently to stop subsequent stabs to you or the victim (even if only momentarily), and to disable or disarm him so he no longer poses a threat. At that point, he’ll be taken into custody by law enforcement, or you and the victim will escape. It’s worth noting that all three goals can be accomplished on first contact — if you can make the attacker suddenly unconscious or otherwise unable to function. Chances are the solution will not be flashy, cool or elegant, and that’s fine. You need to focus on easy-to-execute techniques that will have an immediate effect. Attempt more difficult options only if no simple alternative presents itself. Case Study No. 2 In Rotterdam, Netherlands, a man was videotaped while stabbing his 22-year-old ex from a mounted position on a sidewalk. This is relevant because during the commission of the crime, he was oblivious to three men who were attempting to stop him. At first, one man tried to push the attacker off the victim using his briefcase. Then two men tried to push him away with halfhearted kicks. Eventually — but after many more stabs — the three joined forces and pulled him off by grabbing the hood of his sweater. Where did they fail? They tried to use the tools they had in a less-than-optimal manner. The man with the briefcase could have swung it like a club, aiming a corner at the attacker’s head. It would have been much easier for the man to do that under stress if he’d practiced it in a dojo. A similar shortcoming probably afflicted the men who attempted to kick. It’s unlikely they’d practiced round kicks that sent their shins into an opponent’s head while the opponent was mounted on another person, but if they had, they might have been able to dislodge the man with the knife a lot sooner. Either action could have worked in this scenario. The odds of success would have been even better because the knifer was oblivious to their presence at first. Lesson Learned Case study No. 2 teaches that you should devote some of your training time to the use of everyday objects as weapons. Note that you must practice employing them offensively, as opposed to defensively like a shield. Your mission is to disrupt the attacker’s command-and-control system. If you've attended a firearms course, you know that there are three proven ways to stop an attacker immediately: shut down the brain, disable the nervous system by severing the spine and break down the body’s structure severely enough to make movement impossible. Assuming you don't have a firearm, the first option offers the greatest odds of success. Strikes to the body are easier to land, but they're less likely to effect the instant stoppage you need to end the attack. Returning to goal No. 1 mentioned earlier — stopping the next stab — it follows that No. 1 on your how-to-immediately-stop-a-deadly-attack list should be attacking the head. Accept that and train with that end in mind. Use improvised weapons to target the head of an opponent or, better yet, a training dummy. Practice approaching at angles that keep you out of his field of vision whenever possible. Generally, that means coming in between 4 o'clock and 8 o'clock. Focus on attacking the knifer from his non-knife side. This will keep you away from the blade, thus reducing the likelihood of getting cut when you kick him in the head. It also will reduce the chance that his attacking limb will get in the way when you strike or kick. Try to limit your attack vectors to ones that would snap the attacker’s head back or move his weight backward or away from the victim at an angle greater than 90 degrees. Your goal is to stop the very next stab, which means you don't want to help him move his weight forward onto the victim. This approach works whether the attacker is standing or mounted on his victim, although it’s much easier to do on the ground because of the distances, heights and angles. Forget about firing a round kick at the head of a standing attacker. You might get only one shot at this; don’t waste it on a high round kick in which too much force is lost to height and in which you’re forced to get close. That will elevate the possibility of your kicking leg getting tangled up on the way to his head. Remember, too, that a standing attacker stabbing a victim is unlikely to be stationary unless he’s backed up against a wall. The victim is probably fighting to get away or stop the stabbing arm, and the attacker is probably holding onto the victim. That’s the worst-case scenario, but it’s how you must train. So, knowing that you need to take action and, because you’re unarmed, must go hands-on, what can you do to achieve your goal of stopping an active stabbing? More important than technique is principle. The dynamics of the attack can vary greatly, so it’s tough to dictate techniques. The principles you use, however, will always be the same. Move to Survive Assume a standing attacker is stabbing another standing person. Your first goal is to stop the very next stab. One way to do that is to wrap the arm that’s doing the stabbing with an overhook from behind. The assailant’s hand is moving the fastest and with the least amount of predictability, and his shoulder/upper arm is moving the least with relative predictability. Therefore, you shouldn’t aim for the hand or wrist; simply make a huge overhook around his biceps with your same-side arm. Next, slide your arm down to his elbow and create maximum backward pressure on his shoulder, effectively stopping any forward movement of the arm. That will stop the next stab momentarily. Of course, simply trapping that arm isn’t enough, especially if the attacker is bigger or stronger, so you have to wrap the arm and simultaneously disrupt the assailant’s balance, focus and ability to rotate his torso toward you to relieve the pressure on his arm. Since you know that “where the head goes, the body follows,” you should deliver a simultaneous palm strike or cross-face to the jaw, forcing his head to rotate away from you and further stretching that shoulder. At this point, you can use your chest against his shoulder blade as a fulcrum. Imagine breaking him in half or splitting a wishbone. With the immediate stabbing danger eliminated for a moment and some control of the head and arm achieved, you need to follow up. This could come in many forms, depending on how you train. A leg-sweep takedown from behind is an option, as is coming off the cross-face into a figure-4 arm control of the knife hand and following up with knees and strikes. Another option is to slide down the arm with both hands and effect a standard wrist-lock disarm, known as a “cavalier” in krav maga. Whatever you go with, make it decisive, explosive and damaging. You cannot let up, or you'll find yourself fending off a very aggressive attacker with a knife. The principles used in this course of action match your goals: stop the immediate stab (wrap the arm), control the limb and/or the attacker (violent cross-face with back pressure on the arm) and disable/disarm (follow up with takedowns or counterstrikes). Going Down You can apply these same principles to a mounted attacker, as well. One minor change in technique, but not principle, would be to wrap the head from the opposite side using a hook with your hand on the chin instead of the cross-face. Now you have more leverage for the neck torque than you did with the cross-face because you can pull with both arms. Just yank back on the stabbing arm with your strong-side arm, rotating the head away in the opposite direction. This time, use your hips as the fulcrum against his shoulder blade. Because separating the attacker from the victim is more difficult on the ground and you can’t expect the victim to naturally create distance from this position like he or she would do while standing, you need to move the attacker. Remember: Where the head goes, the body follows. You’re going to continue to “unscrew” his head from his body by pulling around on his chin, eventually rotating him off the victim and to the ground by pivoting on your outside foot and turning your inside foot about 90 degrees — think “basketball pivot.” After rotating the attacker off and down, your options are more limited than when standing, considering that you don’t want to end up rolling around with a guy who has a knife. Aim for a stomp or a knee to the head while sliding down the arm to catch the wrist holding the knife. If a wrist lock presents itself, break it. If not, continue with power strikes as long as you have some control of the knife hand and you’re not going to be pulled down. High Risk The recommendations in this article are high risk, but if you ever find yourself in a situation where you simply must do something, they should give you a starting point. More important, if other people are around, your leadership ideally will inspire a follower, and then another, to create a movement of good citizens doing good things for someone in need.

As Okinawan Goju-Ryu master Seikichi Toguchi liked to point out, the role of the legs in his style of karate is primarily locomotion. They’re used to move the body into position and then align it so a hand strike can be delivered. The reason is clear: Biomechanically, the most natural and effective weapon for human beings to use is the fist. The masters of old devoted themselves to the study of the human body and how it functions in combat. In their research into the best ways to deliver power with the fist, they arrived at certain conclusions — that mechanics matter, that stance is crucial, that timing is important, that breathing is essential, and so on. Decades later, these were confirmed by Western science. I’ll examine the most pertinent ones here. OPTIMIZE THE MECHANICS When properly executed, a traditional karate punch generates great power. It’s designed to penetrate an opponent’s body, which is why it makes contact with the smallest possible surface area. Specifically, the index-finger knuckle (80 percent) and the middle finger knuckle (20 percent) hit the target as the fist moves through space and rotates. The force imparted by the punch depends on the linear and rotational speeds of the fist and arm. Provided it’s performed properly, the punch will gain power as you increase its speed. An unfortunate component of this formula is the loss of energy that results from joints in the body compressing in response to the impact. FORTIFY THE WEAPON Many striking arts feature some form of rotational punch, but unique to Okinawan Goju-Ryu and advocated by the Shorei-kan school is chinkushi . It was passed from Chojun Miyagi to many of his students, but few invested the time to master it. Chinkushi , which is taught in the sanchin  kata, is crucial for a powerful punch because it effectively transforms the arm into a single striking unit. The best way to understand this concept is by feeling it. Begin the punch by twisting your forearm inward while slowly moving your fist forward. Keep your elbow and arm in constant contact with the side of your body. During the extension of the arm, keep your shoulder down; don’t let it move forward. Just as you reach the point of contact, your forearm continues to twist in its natural direction while your upper arm (specifically, the elbow) simultaneously moves in the other direction, thus drawing the shoulder down and tightening the lat to allow for maximum energy transfer. The effect, as pointed out by Toshio Tamano, senior student of Toguchi and current head of Shorei-kan in Europe, is like taking a wet towel and twisting the ends in opposite directions to wring out the water. The more equal and opposite torsion there is, the more rigid the towel becomes. When no more twisting can be done, the towel is one strong unit. Likewise, your arm effectively becomes one strong unit without requiring you to fully extend the elbow. Chinkushi  is the first link in the chain that needs to be forged to generate the most powerful punch possible. At this point, the makiwara enters the picture. The makiwara is designed not to develop calluses or enlarge knuckles but to strengthen the wrist, which easily can be bent or misaligned when striking. In other words, it’s designed to foster chinkushi . POSITION THE BODY The fundamental stance of Okinawan Goju-Ryu is sanchin dachi . It permits quick and secure movement in any direction, but its primary function is to allow the lower body to be “separated” from the upper body, thus facilitating smooth and fast movement while balance is maintained for striking. The sanchin  stance is a relatively natural one that positions the feet shoulder-width apart and longitudinally aligned so the toes of the back foot are in line with the heel of the front foot. Weight is distributed evenly on the legs. The feet are twisted approximately 10 degrees inward for added stability. Because the knees aren’t locked, they allow the body to remain low and rooted and help you keep your focus on the tanden , the point located at the body’s center of gravity, approximately 2 inches below the navel. When Miyagi taught, he required his students to practice only sanchin  kata for three years. He believed this training should form the basis for the study of Goju-Ryu. His habit reminds us that holding this bent-leg position and moving while in it aren’t part of everyday life — but they can be learned. Once your body has been reprogrammed, you’re ready to learn the next level of Goju-Ryu theory and technique, in Miyagi’s view. MOBILIZE THE BASE Now that you have a basic balanced stance, you need to be able to maintain it while advancing, retreating, or simply shifting positions — and still be able to strike without telegraphing. The type of movement that fits the bill in this situation is known as suriashi , or sliding. When you walk normally, you push off your back foot to take your next step. When you increase your speed and run, you angle your body forward to better push off. Although this is fine for a footrace, it’s ineffective for fighting because your opponent can perceive your movement in his direction. In addition, your ability to maintain balance is more difficult in a dynamic situation once a forward or backward push has been initiated. The result is often the creation of momentum in a specific direction with little or no ability to change course or stop. The solution — moving in suriashi  — begins with the sanchin  stance. Your body is lowered because your knees are flexed. Your front foot moves ahead without tilting your body forward. Your front foot slides along the floor; it isn’t raised the way it is when you walk. Because you haven’t leaned forward, there’s little or no extra weight on the leg, which further facilitates quick movement. Once your front foot finishes its travel, your back foot immediately moves into proper position to recreate the sanchin  stance. Of course, the distance between you and your opponent is critical when moving to transmit maximum power. Your ability to judge distance, or maai , before you strike and then to execute the strike with precision is critical. That entails knowing what your personal ability is with respect to closing the gap to reach your opponent, not to mention having excellent timing. STRENGTHEN THE FOUNDATION The term gamaku  refers to power generation as it pertains to the aforementioned sanchin  stance. It, along with chinkushi , is unique to Okinawan Goju-Ryu. To maximize gamaku , assume the sanchin  stance and, without raising your body, pivot your hips upward while keeping your knees bent. The motion creates a tension and rotational movement in the inner thighs and legs that try to make your feet turn outward. By maintaining the foot position of the sanchin  stance, however, your legs become effectively locked because your hips are turned up as far as possible. At no point are your knees fully extended or locked because doing so would impede your ability to statically and dynamically balance. In short, you need to avoid doing that to keep your stance both strong and supple. CONTROL THE BREATH Being a budo, Goju-Ryu subscribes to a breathing method that’s been used in the martial arts for many centuries. It entails inhaling through the nose and exhaling through the mouth. The air is drawn deep into and then expelled from the lower abdomen, down by the tanden . This helps keep your center of gravity low while striking and blocking. When you exhale, open your mouth slightly — as if you’re smiling a little. At the end of each breath, momentarily place your tongue against the roof of your mouth, which allows you to better control your respiration and coordinate it with your strike. A fringe benefit of this breathing method is it fortifies your core and locks it to the rest of your body before the punch makes contact. The connection is momentary, but it’s crucial to creating a powerful punch. Perhaps the best way to practice all the needed skills is performance of the sanchin  kata. ASSEMBLE THE PIECES The following, then, are the main points to remember if you wish to maximize your karate punch: Relax your body by focusing your breathing and energy at your tanden . Draw your punching arm back while bending your knees to lower your stance. Keep your shoulder and elbow down as you slide your front foot forward. As you slide your rear foot forward to recreate the sanchin  stance, begin extending and rotating your striking arm. Just before your punch makes contact, raise your hips and lock down your shoulder as your hand rotates. Exhale to focus all your energy on the strike. The result is a thing of beauty. All parts of the body are recruited to generate power in the punch. They function quickly, independently, and fluidly — until the moment of impact. At this point, your body will be unified for the attainment of your goal. You will not waste any motion or do anything that compromises your balance before, during, or after the strike. You will have effected a perfect punch.

There are people who swear “Judo” Gene LeBell has practiced martial arts for so long that an image of him putting King Tut in an armbar can be found etched in sandstone in an Egyptian tomb. LeBell insists that isn’t true: “No, I’m not that old, but I was a bodyguard for Genghis Khan.” From the time he was big enough to choke out the schoolyard bully, LeBell has been coming to grips with his destiny as a martial arts legend. As a Hollywood stuntman, he’s rubbed elbows with Tinseltown’s elite and tangled with some of the roughest, toughest wrestlers ever to slip into a pair of tights. His mother, Aileen LeBell, was an icon in the ring: As the nation’s first female fight promoter, she ran the world-famous Olympic Auditorium in Los Angeles with an iron fist. Consequently, young Gene was able to pal around with some of the best boxers and wrestlers in the business. “I was 7 years old when I started wrestling with the pros,” LeBell recalls. “My mother sent me down to the Los Angeles Athletic Club to play, and at the club were a handful of really good shooters. This was serious wrestling, a lot of technical skills — none of the clown stuff or gags like you see on TV. All we did was finishing holds.” The owner of the club took a liking to the spunky redhead and asked him what he’d like to learn. His answer: Greco-Roman wrestling, freestyle wrestling, savate, karate, or judo. “Well, karate wasn’t that popular at the time — it was mostly kata — and what they called ‘judo’ was like wrestling without a gi,” he says. “For example, when you grab for a harai goshi (sweeping hip throw), you hook the neck and use it as a handle.” Back then, wrestlers referred to body parts like the ears, mouth, and nose as “handles” because they gave the grappler something to grip, LeBell says. “It’s a very effective way to make someone say ‘uncle.’” 12-SECOND CHAMPION So began a legacy that reads like a script from a Hollywood movie. In 1954 and ’55, LeBell won the National AAU Judo Championships, placing first in the heavyweight and overall divisions. His path to the podium included a triumph over John Osako, who at the time was the top judo player in the United States. At the AAU event, LeBell won 18 matches in two days, 17 with standing throws. To this day, that feat hasn’t been duplicated in a sanctioned judo competition. Gene LeBell may have walked onto the mat as an unknown, but he bowed out as a judo legend. LeBell also competed in wrestling. He holds the dubious distinction of having held a world title for 12 seconds. It would have been longer, but in a moment of exuberance, he accidentally hit the Texas wrestling commissioner in the head while swinging his newly won belt. “I tried to explain to the guy that it was an accident,” LeBell says with a grin. “But he was really steamed, and he yanked the belt and title from me on the spot. So I officially became a champion for 12 seconds.” His experiences in those grappling arts led LeBell to develop his own style of combat, one that merged what he deemed the best of wrestling with the best of judo. As a result, many of his trademark submission holds can’t be found in any rule book or textbook. But then, “Judo” Gene has always been a guy who makes up the rules as he goes. PRETTY IN PINK LeBell raised more than a few eyebrows when he bucked the rules and wore a rather untraditional pink gi to a very traditional judo tournament in Japan. When he bowed onto the mat wearing pink, the martial arts fashion police were outraged. LeBell just smiled, then set about pinning and tossing his opponents, proving that real men do wear pink. “The pink gi wasn’t something I did intentionally,” LeBell says. “It happened while I was training in Japan. I accidentally washed it with a red shirt and some other brightly colored clothing, and my gi came out a deep pink. When people started teasing me, it gave me a good excuse to get them on the mat and stretch their bodies a bit.” One Japanese judo champion and his entourage were less than impressed with the larger-than-life gaijin in pink, so much so that they traveled to Los Angeles armed with an attitude and a challenge. “They came to my dojo at Los Angeles City College, and the interpreter said his friend was some kind of a champion in Tokyo,” LeBell recalls. “I really didn’t pay too much attention. Then he said they wanted to fight. I said, ‘You want to do randori?’ He said, ‘No! We do newaza,’ which is mat work. So I lay down and told him to get his best hold, and he put me in a side pin.” The Japanese champ was a bit taken aback; he never expected LeBell would give him the opportunity to put him in a hold at the start of the match. With the American’s judo students sitting against the wall watching, LeBell calmly asked his opponent if he was ready. That apparently ticked him off, and he muttered something in Japanese to his interpreter. “He said you need to have a doctor standing by,” the interpreter explained. That didn’t sit well with LeBell, as would soon become evident to everyone. “We started, and I just rolled him over, and since he had an attitude, I choked him out real fast,” LeBell says. “When he came to, I turned around, and the guy and his entourage took off without even saying goodbye.” What was the secret of LeBell’s escape from the side pin? “From my wrestling days, I knew how to get out of that hold easily — which isn’t the Kodokan way of getting out of a Scarfhold,” he says. “One hand goes between the legs, and you squeeze his balls a bit while you roll the guy over. Since there’s no referee, you just do what you gotta do.” FIRST MMA FIGHTER Long before the Ultimate Fighting Championship made the Gracie name a household word in the world of grappling, there was a contest that pitted a nationally ranked heavyweight boxer against a world-class judo player. The boxer was No. 3–ranked Milo Savage, and the judoka was Gene LeBell. It all started in 1962 when a man named Jim Beck boasted to a room full of karate students that he could beat any martial artist in the world. A black belt named Gene LeBell accepted the challenge, only to find out he’d be fighting Savage instead of Beck. The winner of the bout would take home $1,000, a hefty purse back then. Plenty of intrigue and backstabbing are connected with what ensued. LeBell and Savage agreed to face off in a boxing ring, and Savage may or may not have had an advantage or three. “He used brass knuckles under his gloves,” LeBell says. “I was also fighting with a dislocated left shoulder, so I had to be careful not to get tagged.” In round four, LeBell slipped under Savage’s jab and executed an explosive maki komi harai goshi, dumping the surprised boxer on the mat. The grappler then applied one of his famous chokes, putting the pugilist to sleep. “Judo” Gene had made history — and he had to slip out the back as a riot erupted. He did, however, pocket a grand for his labors. HOLLYWOOD FALL GUY As Gene LeBell devoted more of his life to the martial arts, the arts were kind enough to give back. They catapulted him into the movies, where he worked as a stuntman, television sportscaster, and promoter. Even now, it’s tough to turn on a television and not see LeBell being set on fire, falling off a building, smashing a motorcycle into a big rig, or, my personal favorite, sinking in a vat of wet concrete in 1985’s Remo Williams: The Adventure Begins. “I think my first job was on the Lassie  TV show,” he says. “I've been working so many years that the son of the guy who directed Lassie  grew up to direct movies of his own – I worked for him, too!” In true Gene LeBell form, he even got to hit himself with a chair in one flick. “It was the movie Raging Bull,  I played the announcer in the riot scene,” LeBell recalls. “The next day, I was a stuntman wearing a mustache and a hat, throwing chairs and the ring during the riot. The magic of movie editing had me in the ring as the announcer while I was throwing chairs at myself from ringside. The best part of that was I got double residuals.” Over the years, the martial artist has taken falls and more than 1,000 movies and TV shows. In the process, he's been privileged to work with everyone from Bob Hope to Bruce Lee. “I met Bruce when he was working on The Green Hornet  series,” LeBell says. “I got a call from the stunt coordinator for the show, asking me to check out some kid named Bruce Lee.” “The first thing I noticed was that Bruce was very fast and always wanted to take the action beyond what the script called for. Once the director called, ‘action,’ he got that in a lot more from Bruce!” LeBell and Lee became friends, frequently training at each other's dojo. “We worked out on a one-on-one basis,” LeBell says. “He taught me a lot of Kung Fu moves that I'd never seen, and he showed me how to do crescent kicks and spinning back kicks. In return, I showed Bruce some judo throws and grappling techniques.” Been There, Done That LeBell, who was Black Belt's 1991 Judoka of the Year, has traversed life on his own terms, and he's comfortable and confident with respect to the decisions he's made in business and martial arts. One of them pertains to showbiz: LeBell belongs to an elite club called Stunts Unlimited."There are only 50 individuals in Stunts Unlimited," he says. "All the people are running shows and they're world-class stuntmen and stuntwomen. I'm still doing stunts, but I am getting older, and since it hurts when I tie my shoes these days, I don't want to roll anymore cars. But I still enjoy sliding them through a plate-glass window." When asked about the changes he's seen over the years, the martial arts icon mostly focused on how much more he's paid now for abusing his body in movies. "I used to get $50 for stunts, but now it's $903," he says. "Last week, I did a job and had six hours of overtime and a stunt adjustment at $400. I ended up making three grand and didn't even need to put on a stunt pad." An avid motorcycle enthusiast, LeBell often can be seen two-wheeling around Southern California on one of his 40 rides — when he isn't crashing one on a movie set. For decades, he's worked as a test rider for Yamaha, Honda, and BMW and frequently hangs out at a motorcycle shop in Hollywood, talking to customers. Never one to sit still, LeBell can be found every Monday evening in North Hollywood, California, engaging in an activity that's even dearer to his heart. There, at Hayastan MMA Academy, he and longtime friends Gokor Chivichyan and Benny "The Jet" Urquidez train the next generation of grapplers and MMA stars at Chivichyan's dojo. After all, when he retires for good, someone will have to take the reins from "Judo" Gene LeBell, and they might as well learn from the best.

The team that brought you the incredible Ip Man film series featuring Donnie Yen is back in action! In The Prosecutor , a gripping legal thriller said to be inspired by a real Hong Kong case, martial arts icon Donnie Yen plays a veteran police officer-turned-prosecutor who risks everything to uncover the truth. When a man falsely confesses to drug trafficking after being framed, Yen’s character becomes convinced of his innocence. Driven by a deep sense of justice, the prosecutor embarks on a personal investigation that threatens his career, his reputation, and even his life. The film weaves a tense narrative about the cost of standing up for what’s right within a flawed legal system. To bring this high-stakes story to life, a skilled team of Japanese action choreographers and stunt professionals was brought on board. Takahito Ouchi , known for his work on blockbuster action films such as Flash Point , served as the action director, working alongside Yen's frequent collaborators, Kenji Tanigaki and Yu Kang . The trio helped craft fight scenes that really deliver raw physicality with the emotional stakes of the film. One of the standout sequences is a nightclub fight filmed at a private club in Hong Kong's Quarry Bay, featuring 40 to 50 stunt performers with aerial drones capturing dynamic shots, enhancing the action while preserving its realistic intensity. All real action, no post-production CGI. In other words, a thrilling, unflinching display of martial arts not to be forgotten. The Prosecutor  stars Donnie Yen in the lead role, but his involvement goes beyond acting—Yen also serves as the film’s director and co-producer. His passion for action-driven storytelling shines through both in front of and behind the camera. Raymond Wong , a veteran producer, also backs the project. With this powerful collaboration, The Prosecutor  promises to deliver not only a gripping legal drama but also a film with cutting-edge action that will keep audiences on the edge of their seats. The Prosecutor  releases in North American theaters on January 10, 2025, through Well Go USA. Be sure to check it out!