Vinegar Syndrome Finds Itself in a New York Ninja State of Mind

Imagine walking into a kitchen and finding a dish halted in progress: Root veggies idling by a blazing oven; pork belly wrapped in butcher paper on the countertop; mustard, salt, pepper, canola oil, spices waiting for their chance to season the meal. Imagine being tasked with figuring out what exactly the chef had in mind before abruptly retiring. That’s about where the folks at Vinegar Syndrome found themselves in their efforts to restore New York Ninja, John Liu’s forsaken 1984 camp action movie, a curio mostly lost to memory, mentioned only in whispers by genre aficionados, that’s now finally seeing the light of day for the first time ever.
Vinegar Syndrome specializes in the celebration, preservation and restoration of genre movies; giving beaten-up old movies much-deserved polish and TLC isn’t new for them. It’s what they’ve done since putting three lost Herschell Gordon Lewis sexploitation films in a boxed set in 2013. Such archival work—and it is just that—reminds us that propriety isn’t the standard by which movies should be deemed as worthy of safekeeping. Losing any movie to time’s ravages is a loss to cinema as a whole, and, put simply, you are not a preservationist if you don’t care whether grungy trashterpieces are protected from rot or not. Vinegar Syndrome cares.
New York Ninja is the exact kind of movie Vinegar Syndrome exists to restore, a no-budget production funded by boundless enthusiasm and fueled by joy, where cheese bursts through the seams in such a way that even the lactose tolerant might want to chug lactase enzymes before watching. Liu plays Liu, a sound tech for a local NYC news station. He’s having a great day as the film starts, handing off a gift to his wife on her birthday, who gives Liu a gift in return: She’s pregnant! Everything’s comin’ up Liu! But it’s 1980s New York City. No sooner do the lovebirds part than a violent gang slits her throat and stabs her stomach when she witnesses them doing crime on the streets. Liu wants justice. If the NYPD won’t give it to him, he’ll have to take matters into his own hands. Fortunately, he’s not just a sound tech: He’s a ninja.
New York Ninja satisfies a very specific film geek demographic: Viewers who see value in the non-professional and the DIY, who went out and shot Peter Jackson homages on their college campuses in their salad days, and who recognize that at one point or another even the greats of cinema got their starts making B-movies: Ron Howard, Jonathan Demme, Martin Scorsese, John Sayles. Couldn’t Liu have grown into a great in his own right?
Liu stepped away from show business not long after filming wrapped on New York Ninja, so we know the answer to that question, but that doesn’t mean New York Ninja shouldn’t see release on 4K, with a pending theatrical run scheduled for sometime in 2022. In fact New York Ninja reads like a glance into what might have been if Liu had stuck with the movies. It’s rare to see unbridled delight in every frame of any contemporary genre film, especially contemporary genre films that set out to attain cult status ignorant of the reality that “cult” isn’t a title that’s bought but one that’s earned. New York Ninja puts on no such airs. It just is, and it’s a glorious experience as a result.
For Vinegar Syndrome’s Kurtis Spieler, that experience started in the editing room. When Spieler found out the company had New York Ninja’s original unedited footage in its archive, he jumped at the opportunity to finish it himself and sought out a budget from his bosses. “Being a restoration company, they loved the idea,” Spieler says. “So, I went to work for nearly two years in order to finish this movie and bring it back from film obscurity.”