The silver screen lit up and the first few scenes of the release - "Never Back Down" - sprang to life.
Suddenly, old memories flooded my thoughts and I was propelled back to the days of my youth.
I was thirteen and in the process of settling into a new school - making friends and catching up on my studies, that sort-of-thing - when a crisis loomed on the horizon.
A class bully started to pound on me daily in spite of the fact he was unprovoked.
For instance, at recess, the boy (Danny Bloomer was his name) would unexpectedly turn up out-of-the-blue - jab me in the gut or slap me viciously on the back of the head - then trot off leaving me bewildered and bruised.
Although Danny was a popular good-looking kid - clearly there was something twisted or mentally off - about the lad.
I tried to avoid a direct confrontation - and ultimately, a fight - but he'd always be at me egging me on for no good reason.
One day he poked me a little too roughly in the ribs.
Without warning - my right hand bunched up tightly into a fist - and shot forward and smacked him squarely in the face. He fell back in shock, collected himself, then stared back at me in amazement as I turned and strode off a little shaken.
Within the hour Danny was sporting a black eye and the halls were abuzz with the rumor that Bloomer was going to kick my butt when class let out at three that afternoon.
"Okay. I'll meet him after school," I assured his scruffy messengers who scurried off into the woodwork to spread the news.
By the end of the day the emotions were high and the excitement had built to a fever pitch as all the students at Regent Heights geared up for the "big fight".
When the school bell rang out at the end of the day and I stepped into the golden sunlight to face my plight, I found myself thrown headlong into an enthusiastic throng of supporters cheering me on.
But, Danny was nowhere in sight.
"He'll be here. Your a** is gonna' get whooped," his gang of rough-neck pals taunted from the sidelines.
Well, he didn't put in his pretty mug.
About fifteen minutes later, though, his father roared up the tree-lined street in his pick-up truck and skidded to a halt at the curb a few feet away.
In response to something he mumbled as he exited the vehicle, an excited junior pointed in my direction.
Then, Mr. Bloomer strolled over and looked me up and down incredulously.
"Are you the boy who gave Danny the black eye?"
"Yes, sir," I responded as audibly as I could.
"Why don't the two of 'ya be friends?"
"I didn't want to fight. Danny started it," I muttered with as much gusto as I could muster up.
His father shook his head a little and then suggested that I go on down to the house and shake hands with his son. He'd be waiting, he assured me.
At this juncture, I embarked on the short walk to his house to call the truce.
To my amazement, a mob of boisterous students tagged along behind, as I headed in that direction.
It was a bit awkward because Danny's house was just a few doors down from my own on the same street. I'd have to manipulate my way through the crowd and conceal my face somehow so my guardians wouldn't catch sight of the spectacle unfolding around me.
When we arrived at the weathered two-storey house, one of the boys dashed up the rickety stairs to the front door to summon Danny. A few moments later, he reluctantly stepped outside and awkwardly glanced in my direction.
I strolled right up and put out my hand. When he weakly grabbed at it, the kids in the neighborhood let out a loud cheer.
Gosh, it felt like I was in a scene in a Hollywood movie!
Which brings us back to the Summit feature film.
Jake, the main character in a quickie film that amounts to a piece of teen eye-candy, is forced to deal with the same troubling issue when he crosses paths with a bully the first day back in school.
As he hangs on the edge of indecision about the course of action to take, an unrelenting gang of unruly rebellious teens spur him on.
And, there is no turning back.
Torn between a conscience and a need to "stand up" against the gathering forces that menacingly swirl around (brute mentality, raging hormones, pent-up anger) the star athlete struggles to meet the challenge, and in the process, redefines himself.
At first glance - "Never Back Down" - is an obvious rip-off of the "Karate Kid".
Same plot, really.
New kid on the block gets hassled by a big bad bully - turns to a mentor for guidance (and ultimately) prevails in a knock-em-down drag-out-fight with self-esteem and integrity intact.
Yeah, he rides off into the sunset with the bodacious babe, to boot.
In stark contrast to Karate Kid, though - "Never" - is testosterone-charged, brimming with gutsy bravado, and is way over-the-top.
What do you expect when street-fighting and spilling your guts is exalted as a spectator sport?
Yeah - it's a nervy exploitative teen flick with mega doses of sensual visuals - rippling abs and virgin flesh, that sort-of-thing - crafted with scintillating MTV-style seducers sure to make it go box office boffo overnight.
The message - what there is of it - drowns in its wake.
One quip from Jake, says it all.
When his guru solemnly instructs him on the "Art" of breathing when engaged in fight-play, he smirks without batting a pretty eyelash,
"Is this the grasshopper speech?"
This piece of mindless fluff should be so lucky to have the wisdom of the sages descend on it.