In Thai with English subtitles. Starring Tony Ja. Rating unavailable.

Like the national film industries of South Korea and Argentina, Thai cinema seems fated to give birth to a globe-girdling new wave. Equally adept at historical epics (Bangrajan), broad comedy (Iron Ladies), and realistic contemporary stories (The Macabre Case of Prompiram), Thailand's wide-screen culture has leapt from strength to strength.

Although Ong-bak is far from being the brightest star in this new cinematic firmament, it does appear to be the most eagerly awaited, given the number of hits it generates on the Web. It might not be art, but it definitely seems to be what people want.

Of course, it does have an irresistible gimmick. Audiences fed up with chop-socky films from the 1970s and kickboxing potboilers from the 1980s and '90s can now experience the reality of muay Thai, Thailand's indigenous martial art. What's more, they can see it performed by Tony Jaa (also known as Panom Yeerum and several other names), the first serious contender for Bruce Lee's kick-ass crown (Jackie Chan being more of a comic than a hero). A champion gymnast, fencer, and track star who doesn't farm out his stunts because nobody else is good enough to pull them off, Ja has physical prowess exhilarating to behold, even for people severely traumatized by Cannon's unlamented Far Eastern punch-'em-ups.

The plot could hardly be more basic. Ting (also known as Booting) is a champion village fighter entrusted with the task of bringing back a sacred Buddhist relic (the eponymous Ong-bak) from Bangkok after it is stolen by gangbanger Don (Wannakit Sirioput). This country mouse proves more than capable of standing up to city rats, both in the ring and out, and he does not allow romance to distract him for even a second. Indeed, Ting is so virtuous he would seem like a bit of a prig in a kiddie cartoon.

There is another payoff besides the hero's athleticism, however. Cowriter-director Prachya Pinkaew, a big fan of Luc Besson's Taxi movies, applies A-movie production values to B-movie material, juicing up the hackneyed story line with fluid cinematography, heart-stopping editing, and emotionally evocative colours. At one point, he transcends genre entirely, entering the realm of surrealism, when he shows us an underwater forest of stolen Buddha heads.

Basically, what he's trying to do is give the same sort of face-lift to chop-socky/kickboxing pictures that Steven Spielberg gave to old Saturday afternoon serials in Raiders of the Lost Ark.

He proves so successful in this endeavour that he comes close to giving schlock a good name.