Lit in royal blue, a young man speeds off on a motorcycle in the city. Kim Wilde, wearing a striped leotard, she circles a ring. A fortysomething man, wrapped in bandages, lifts up his head as he sits in the corner. Four men stand over them and call out “go for it!” Lights flash as he gets up and meets her in the center.
Lit in scarlet red, she walks into her motel room and flicks the dust of her fingers. She tugs at the curtain and jumps back. Pulling them back for a second time, she looks out the window. She dances against a black background. Two young men stand behind her.
She grabs the fortysomething man’s shoulders in the ring. Back in the motel room, she leans against the wall and watches as the telephone short circuits on the table. Parts of the wall fall out, creating a hole. She runs to another wall. The wall swells and cracks as she places her hand on it. In the ring, she pushes the fortysomething man on the ground. Dust blows into her eyes as she stands in the motel room. An arm punches through the wall. The fortysomething man breaks through and leaves the room. She sits on a chair while pieces of the ceiling hang in the room.
Kim Wilde stares down the fortysomething man in the ring. Up above, several young men urge them to fight. Teeth clenched, she approaches him first. He sits on the ground, lethargic. But she knows nothing is wrong with him. The fortysomething man stands up and walks to her. She wasn’t going to let him get the best of her again.
The fortysomething man had challenged her while she was working with her trainer. Her trainer told her not to do it. The fortysomething man could hurt her. He was an underground fighter and didn’t play by the rules. The fortysomething man told her she’d be giving up a good sum of money.
It taken her almost six months to recover from the last fight. Her friends begged her to let it go. She told them she was going to do it. He thought she was a weak fighter. However, she knew she could defeat him this time. In the ring, she seethed and gritted her teeth. She let out a guttural shout and pounced. He couldn’t even devise a strategy. It wasn’t what she expected. The emcee hands her check. It was next month’s rent. She finds a napkin and writes the upcoming events on the bulletin board. A poster in hand, she looks at the menacing man on it and studies it.
Director: N/A Year: 1984