Say Mortal Kombat out loud and somebody within earshot will probably shout the title right back at you. That’s the kind of cultural footprint a video game adaptation dreams of leaving, and Paul W. S. Anderson managed it in 1995 with a film that understood exactly what its audience wanted: a tournament, recognizable fighters, a few memorable catchphrases, and music loud enough to make the theater seats vibrate (at least until Godzilla Minus Zero came out and sent the seats practically sailing out the roof…). Nobody bought a ticket expecting Shakespeare. They wanted to see somebody get kicked through a wall, and the movie was more than happy to oblige.

The setup is easy to follow even if you’ve never picked up a controller. Earth must win a martial-arts tournament against warriors from another realm or risk falling under the control of the sinister Shang Tsung (Cary-Hiroyuki Tagawa, Licence to Kill). Our champions are Liu Kang (Robin Shou, Death Race), a disciplined fighter with a personal score to settle; Johnny Cage (Linden Ashby, Wyatt Earp), a Hollywood action star determined to prove he can actually fight; and Sonya Blade (Bridgette Wilson, I Know What You Did Last Summer), a military officer whose pursuit of criminal Kano brings her into the tournament’s orbit. Their unlikely guide is Rayden (Christopher Lambert, Knight Moves), the thunder god who seems to enjoy dispensing cryptic advice almost as much as making the lights flicker.

Once the group reaches the island, the film gets down to business. Shang Tsung’s fighters include the icy Sub-Zero, the deadly Scorpion, and the enormous four-armed Goro, whose animatronic body cost about $1 million and required a small army of puppeteers. Its tendency to malfunction reportedly reduced Goro’s screen time, which is a shame because he remains one of the film’s most wonderfully excessive creations. Anderson keeps the fights distinct enough that the tournament doesn’t turn into one long blur of punches. Johnny Cage gets a welcome sense of humor, Liu Kang gives the story its emotional investment, and Sonya has more to do than stand around wondering how she ended up on a mysterious island. Lambert, meanwhile, plays Rayden with a mischievous grin that suggests being a deity is a lot more entertaining than dealing with mortals.

Getting the cast together involved a few missed connections. Cameron Diaz was originally set to play Sonya before a broken wrist took her out of the production. Jean-Claude Van Damme chose Street Fighter, and Sean Connery passed on Rayden. Anderson filmed much of the movie in Thailand, with an old steel mill in Fontana, California, standing in for portions of Outworld. George S. Clinton’s score mixes orchestral bombast with techno beats and Asian instruments, while the soundtrack became a hit in its own right. That music is almost another character. Decades later, hearing the opening theme still makes me want to turn up the volume and prepare for battle.

The film opened at number one in August 1995, held the top spot for three weekends, and made about $73 million domestically against a $20 million budget. For a genre still littered with disappointing game adaptations, it was a major victory. The dialogue is often ridiculous, the computer effects are very much products of their time, and the PG-13 rating means the games’ infamous gore mostly stays offscreen. None of that seems to hurt it. Anderson makes a movie with enough momentum, color, and personality that the silliness becomes part of its appeal. It knows exactly which buttons to press.

Mortal Kombat: Annihilation (1997) is what happens when somebody presses all of them at once. Anderson moved on to Event Horizon, and cinematographer John R. Leonetti stepped into the director’s chair. Robin Shou returned as Liu Kang, and Talisa Soto (Licence to Kill) came back as Kitana, but much of the cast changed. James Remar (48 Hrs.) replaced Lambert as Rayden, while Sandra Hess took over for Wilson as Sonya. The sequel picks up almost immediately after the first film, with the villainous Shao Kahn threatening an invasion of Earth and the heroes scrambling to stop him before the realms merge.

Rather than building another tournament around characters we already know, Annihilation throws new fighters, monsters, betrayals, and magical rules at the screen with very little pause for explanation. Familiar names appear and disappear, often before there’s time to care what happens to them. The production’s digital effects were unfinished when it reached theaters, and there are moments when the creatures look as though they wandered in from an early video-game cutscene. The actors gamely push through the material, but it’s hard to create much tension when every other scene introduces another cosmic emergency. The first movie made its nonsense fun. The sequel frequently mistakes adding more nonsense for making things more exciting.

Yet I can understand the affection some fans have for Annihilation. It can be a spectacular party movie, particularly with friends willing to laugh along with the costuming, dialogue, and gloriously unconvincing creatures. It just isn’t a very good follow-up to a movie that had already figured out how to make the formula work. The franchise went quiet on the big screen for years before returning with the 2021 reboot. Watching these two pictures together is a useful lesson in how quickly a hit can lose its footing. One is a crowd-pleaser with just enough discipline. The other tries to deliver a fatality every five minutes and ends up knocking itself out.