You shouldn't have left Retribution

So I'm captioning the latest Drive-In Classics kung fu movie, Village on Fire, and it's about what you'd expect:

The prodigal son returns home when he hears that his father is dying, and on his deathbed, the father makes his son swear that he will hold onto the family plot (of land, not of story) and give up fighting. The tearful son swears to do so. Soon afterwards, thugs representin' the local kingpin warrior gangsta stroll towards the farmhouse, treading on all the crops on their way over, and suggest that it might be in everybody's best interests for the family to sell the land. The son refuses to do so, but, bearing in mind the oath he made to an old man who was choking on his own death at the time, vows not to fight. The thugs return while the son is away, burn down the house and kill his mother, sister, Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru. Grief-stricken, the son vows revenge, and the remainder of the movie consists of him hunting down and killing the thugs one by one until the final climactic battle with the kingpin warrior gangsta, who I believe gets impaled on a tree branch.

The final scene takes place at the train station, where the son is bidding goodbye to his girlfriend, who stalked him all the way out here from the city and ended up being captured by the thugs and made to work at the local brothel in a subplot that I unaccountably failed to mention earlier. Another man stands politely by, waiting, as the girlfriend turns a teary expression upon her lover. "So much has happened, so much has changed," she says. "I wish it did not have to end this way."

The son stares compassionately into her eyes. "But it must," he says. And he gestures to the man standing behind him. "This man is a provincial court officer. They've charged me with nine major offences, including seven counts of murder."

Best. Movie. Ending. Ever.