Best fight ever in a movie: 'They Live.' I want to do a martial

“Best fight ever in a movie: ‘They Live.’ I want to do a martial arts version of that, where you think it’s ended, and it just keeps on going. I love that fight. It was funny as well. Unexpected.” Thus spoke Scott Adkins, warrior of the screen and student of motion, a man who turns combat into poetry and endurance into art. His words, though spoken of cinema, carry a deeper wisdom—one that speaks not only to fighters, but to all who struggle. For in this reflection on a film fight, there lies a philosophy of life itself: that the truest battles are not swift or pretty, but enduring, unpredictable, and filled with resilience.

The scene he praises—the legendary brawl in John Carpenter’s “They Live”—is no ordinary duel. It is long, almost absurdly so, stretching far beyond what an audience expects. Two men clash in an alley, again and again, refusing to yield. It begins as a fight of fists, but becomes a fight of will—a struggle that transcends story, turning into a meditation on persistence. The viewer laughs, winces, and marvels. It is both funny and grueling, an echo of life’s own conflicts, which so often linger long after we think they are over. It is this mix—of endurance, humor, and surprise—that Adkins reveres.

For the ancient warriors too knew this truth: the battle never ends where one expects. The Spartans at Thermopylae stood their ground not because they believed victory would come swiftly, but because they understood that true valor is endurance in the face of exhaustion. The fight that “keeps on going” is the story of every soul who refuses to fall, even when strength has fled. Adkins’ dream of recreating that spirit in martial art form is, in essence, the dream to capture the eternal human fight—the one that laughs at pain and keeps moving forward.

Notice his words: “It was funny as well. Unexpected.” Laughter, even amid struggle, is a mark of the wise. The ancients taught that a warrior’s heart must be both fierce and light, able to endure hardship yet smile through it. When we laugh at the absurd length of the “They Live” fight, we are laughing not only at the spectacle, but at ourselves—our endless wrestling with pride, with ego, with fate. Adkins recognizes that humor and struggle are kin, born of the same understanding: that to survive, one must not only fight, but find joy in the persistence itself.

In a world that craves quick victories and clean endings, Adkins reminds us that greatness lies in the fight that refuses to end. Whether in art, in training, or in life, the battles that define us are those that seem to drag on beyond measure. The artist paints through failure after failure. The athlete trains through pain and setback. The soul endures grief, heartbreak, and disappointment—and still rises. Like the fight from “They Live,” our struggles stretch longer than comfort allows, yet through them we discover our strength, our humor, our humanity.

There is, too, the element of surprise—“unexpected,” as Adkins calls it. Life itself is a master of ambush. Just when we think the fight is over, another round begins. The wise do not despair when this happens; they nod, smile, and tighten their stance. For each unexpected blow is a teacher, each fall a forge. To live well is to understand that endings are illusions—there is always another test, another climb, another swing. Thus, to love the unexpected, as Adkins does, is to embrace the endless rhythm of growth.

So, take this teaching, O listener of struggle and spirit: fight beyond the finish line. When others stop, continue. When the world says, “It’s over,” answer, “Not yet.” Let your battles—whether of body, heart, or craft—be fought with endurance, with laughter, and with grace. And when you find yourself in the midst of a challenge that feels too long, too absurd, too exhausting, remember Scott Adkins’ words: the fight that keeps going is the one worth having. For it is there, in the clash of exhaustion and will, that character is forged and victory becomes eternal.

Thus, as Adkins and the warriors before him have shown, the true art of battle—on the screen or in the soul—is not in striking swiftly, but in standing endlessly. Love the fight that never ends, for it is the one that teaches you who you are. And when the world looks on, thinking the struggle absurd, laugh—because you know, as the wise always have, that life itself is the longest and most beautiful fight of all.