n some distant galaxy, on a remote space station, an extraterrestrial arena hosts mixed martial arts matches. Using cutting-edge technology, a handicapping system decreases a fighter’s strength to create fairness across species, allowing hulking metal monstrosities to duel horned reptilian creatures. Crowds jeer and cheer, while an announcer (Jack Carter) comments on the varying skills and star-power of the combatants. There’s even a crowd control force that handles riots and rowdy fans.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got friends topside.” Earthling snack-bar cook Steve Armstrong (Paul Satterfield) just wants a United Spacelines ticket home, but he’s stuck on the station, working at a counter for four-armed manager Shorty (Hamilton Camp). When Steve gets in a fight with an unruly customer, his job and his bunk are forfeited, leaving him in a tight spot. As it turns out, that troublesome patron was a top fighter in the arena, working for Quinn (Claudia Christian), who now needs a replacement. And what a spectacle it would be to see a human like Steve duking it out in the ring!

The look of “Arena” is instantly a ripoff of “Star Wars” and “Star Trek,” employing plenty of cheap costumes and masks and props, as well as peppy music and rather standard sci-fi sound effects. Indeed, it’s difficult not to see this as a television episode stretched out into a feature. As if obligatory in this type of endeavor, Shorty and Steve frequent an alien bar full of gamblers, girls, music, drinks, and peculiar languages – once again clearly borrowing from an iconic cantina. Laser weapons, armored soldiers, and shootouts are also on the menu, alongside holograms and a gangster overlord. Perhaps coincidentally, “Star Trek: Deep Space Nine” regulars Marc Alaimo and Armin Shimerman have supporting roles here as a mob boss and his lackey.

Soon enough, the space opera elements give way to a “Mortal Kombat” (or “Double Dragon”) type of focus, boasting creative yet rubbery oversized beings trading punches in the gladiatorial arena – like “Rocky” in the farthest reaches of the universe. It’s terribly unconvincing, but there’s something amusing about the creature designs, especially when they’re slimy and blubbery. Unfortunately, the surrounding activities, such as visits to a nightclub (with completely unnecessary singing routines) and the brewing romance between Steve and Quinn (and the love triangle with enemy seductress Jade [Shari Shattuck]), are unusually dull, adding tremendous lulls between the boxing bouts.

The ploys to fix the championships and the meddling by corrupt goons don’t generate much interest, either, largely due to the general unoriginality and the blandness of the dialogue; there are virtually no surprises here. And the stakes are low enough that Steve’s successes and failures don’t amount to much; enthusiasm and excitement for the ultimate match are too poorly designed to muster any suspense. This might be expected from a film executive produced by Charles Band. But at least the finale is a welcome one, concluding exactly as expected – in a satisfying manner.

– Mike Massie