Cüneyt Arkın, one of the proud futuristic freedom fighters from Dünyayı Kurtaran Adam — also known in the States, rather dumbed-down if you ask me, as Turkish Star Wars — is back on the small screen in a rather good-looking print of 1975’s Kiliç Aslan or, for the sake of argument here, The Sword and the Claw.

In this bargain-basement flick, a king with a birthmark of a lion on his back is killed by his sleazy mustachioed rival. When his concubine, pregnant and on the run, has his baby in the woods, said child is kidnapped and raised by lions, mostly done through a quick vignette of a small child feeding an equally immature lion some raw meat, which couldn’t have been safe, but the kid and the lion look like they’re having fun.

As the child grows up into strapping vine-swinging man Arkin, he immediately runs afoul of the same corrupt leader and, for his troubles, has his hands burnt black, Cajun-style. Thankfully, an old man forges a pair of new unwieldy metal hands — lion’s claws, if you will — and, in the last 10 minutes of film, rips out the throats of the supreme leader’s army and, of course, the big boss. Roll credits.

That seems simple enough, right?

A prime example of the popular Turkish costume dramas of the time, The Sword and the Claw has choppy editing, uneven music and the worst dubbing in history, but damned if it isn’t an entertaining flick, with Arkin jumping off the screen, somersaulting into every fight scene, with particular abandon being given to the bloody finale and his angry lion-face.

If memory serves me, I vaguely remember the VHS box for this movie when it was called Lionman, always overlooked and gathering dust. Still, the American Genre Film Archive’s Blu-ray — from the only 35mm print in existence, natch — is the nicest I’ve even seen of a Turkish film of this ilk, a genre usually reserved for 10th-generation burns.

As a bonus feature, the AGFA disc includes the kung-fu foible Brawl Busters starring Black Jack Chan, produced by the “Official Chinese Black Belt Society.” Yep, that sounds totally legit. —Louis Fowler

Get it at Amazon.

Finally, one of mankind’s greatest mysteries is solved by the film DOA: Dead or Alive: What would happen if a ninja princess, a leggy cat burglar and a star-spangled-swimsuit-clad pro wrestler were invited to join a high-stakes martial-arts competition on a hidden island?

The answer: Kicking.

Based on a video game franchise, the Maxim-rific DOA sat on the shelf for a number of years before quietly receiving a theatrical release. That suggests the flick is unwatchable; in truth, it does exactly what it sets out to do: titillate.

Kasumi (Devon Aoki, Sin City) is the aforementioned princess who leaves her Asian homeland to avenge the rumored death of her brother. Because she abandons her people, she is pursued by an assassin with pink hair.

Christie (Holly Valance, Taken) has just pulled off a lucrative heist when she’s questioned by police in her hotel room. She manages to fight them off while naked, simultaneously grabbing a falling gun as she puts on a bra.

And Tina (Jaime Pressly, Torque) is a beer-guzzling redneck wrassler who’s just defended her yacht from a band of pirates.

All three lithesome ladies are recruited — via electronic throwing-star invitations, naturally — to be among a handful of combatants in the winner-takes-all “DOA” competition, which promises a $10 million prize. No one said this makes any sense, but it all happens over the course of the film’s first 10 minutes, so at least it wastes no time.

On the island, a squeaky-voiced roller skater introduces them to Dr. Victor Donovan (Eric Roberts, Sharktopus), the mastermind behind the games. Yes, he’s evil, with the sport merely a cover for his greedy, misguided machinations.

With snot-slick visuals and leaden attempts at slapstick comedy, DOA: Dead or Alive plays like a marriage — or at least a one-night stand — between Mortal Kombat and TV’s Charlie’s Angels. It’s the kind of movie that keeps cutting away from a karate-laden fight scene to a women’s beach volleyball match because … well, hey, bikinis!

At least DOA wears its T-and-A intentions on its thong strap, not pretending to be anything but a made-for-cable-level exercise in action and eye candy. The DOA logo even appears full-screen at several points, handily suggesting where commercials could be inserted for airings on Spike TV.

It’s mindless, sure, but it cannot be accused of being boring. The actresses are easy on the optical orbs, and up to all the upskirt wire-fu that director Corey Yuen (The Transporter) has in store for them. For the viewer, that also means bright colors, quick cuts, slow motion and other shiny things to keep you entertained while dissuading you from applying logic.

If the shenanigans leave you in the mood for a much smarter film centered around three lovely ladies who know how to throw a punch, rent 2002’s So Close, also directed by Yuen. It may not have a wisecracking black guy in a shark-fin mohawk, but you can’t win them all. —Rod Lott

Get it at Amazon.