THE GAME OF CLONES - BRUCEPLOITATION COLLECTION VOL. 1 - BLU-RAY REVIEW PART 3

For the third part of our detailed look at Severin Films’ THE GAME OF CLONES – BRUCEPLOITATION COLLECTION VOLUME 1, disc six delves into the infamous – and highly dubious – Bruceploitation biopics, which attempted to derive authenticity by very loosely basing their films on the life and times of Bruce Lee and his much-talked about death. Starring Bruce Li, Ti Chih’s SUPER DRAGON THE BRUCE LEE STORY (1974) was the first film to hit the ground running, which focuses on a fictional filmed reconstruction of Bruce Lee’s life from his time in the United States (herein represented by obvious Taiwan locations), his role on NBC’s THE GREEN HORNET (1966-1967), his time in Hong Kong working with Golden Harvest (“It’s time for action films now!”), and his relationship with Betty Ting Pei (Tang Pei), the last person to see him alive. 

 

Taking great liberties with much of Bruce Lee’s real-life story, the film never does lose sight of its basic design (“Determination and practice is the key to success!” Remarks Lee), but as the narrative progresses, it definitely becomes focused on the more tawdry and scandalous aspects of Lee’s life. This becomes especially obvious with Bruce’s controversial relationship with Betty Ting Pei, who is portrayed throughout the picture as nothing more than a deceitful and very manipulating homewrecker, so it’s difficult to feel sorry for her by film’s end as she walks on a lonely stretch of beach. While it becomes more tearjerker than actioner, Bruce Li still comports himself well throughout the picture, which also includes a few fight sequences on the set of his HK films, and a couple of hilarious portrayals of Golden Harvest big boss Raymond Chow and director Lo Wei (whose only direction is screaming: “Fight, fight, fight! Just fight!!!”) as utter and irredeemable pricks. 

 

Thanks to rights holder Multicom, SUPER DRAGON THE BRUCE LEE STORY finally gets a proper presentation with this new 2K scan of a decent “release print” which offers another significant upgrade in terms detail and colour, especially when compared to Goodtimes’ budget VHS release from 1990. Regardless of its rather wonky English dubbing (moreso than usual) and imperfect source material, the DTS-HD 2.0 English mono audio once again sounds fine, even with the expected pops and crackles, which adds some nice exploitation charm to the proceedings. Special features are limited this time around, but Michael Worth returns for another partial audio commentary (41m00s) where he points out many of the film’s narrative inconsistencies in terms of Bruce Lee’s life, the film’s chutzpah for getting this film out in the theaters so soon after Lee’s death, Bruce Li’s martial arts skills at the time, the film’s numerous cast members, and so much more. Worth steps in front of the camera again for Severin’s Kung Fu Theater (1m39s) where he briefly chats about these biopics, which he looks at a “little differently” than the average viewer, but admits there’s no denying the money-grabbing nature of these “flagrant imitations.” The film’s U.S. theatrical trailer (2m09s) as THE DRAGON DIES HARD is also included. 

 

In the second feature on disc six, Bruce Li once again essays the role of Bruce Lee in Singloy Wang’s (a.k.a. Wang Sing-Loy) THE DRAGON LIVES (a.k.a. HE’S A HERO, HE’S A LEGEND, 1976), which reveals very much the same preoccupations – his time in the United States, his filmmaking sojourns at Golden Harvest, and his controversial relationship with Betty Ting Pei – but minus all the lurid melodrama of SUPER DRAGON THE BRUCE LEE STORY. To the sounds of a ticking clock, the film opens with the birth of Bruce Lee during a violent thunderstorm, which, according to the elders, is a good omen when one of them happily exclaims, “That boy is destined for great things!” As an adult he ends up in San Francisco where he stumbles upon on a film set, but is insulted by the film’s interpretation of Chinese people (“That’s what all the Chinese look like, so what else are you supposed to wear?”). He later enters a martial arts tournament in Long Beach, where he is ridiculed at first (“Go home Chinaboy! And take your kung fu with you!”) but then amazes the boisterous crowd with his fighting abilities. Roused by the sight of his fighting skills, he eventually lands a contract to film THE GREEN HORNET, but is again outraged at the racial aspersions cast by its director. Even though the United States is a “good place”, he decides to move to Hong Kong where he can make “real Chinese movies the way I want!” Later, we see filmed recreations of Bruce on the set of THE BIG BOSS (1971) and FIST OF FURY (1972), which adds some self-styled authenticity to the picture. Shot on location in Taiwan, the film also boasts a huge contingent of Caucasian extras, but especially prominent is Caryn White, who makes for an altogether more credible Linda Lee, whose disintegrating marriage to Bruce is handled far more effectively herein. Even with the haze of Bruce’s mounting mania (which is effectively rendered by his obsession with a giant monster-training machine installed in his house), the odd-styled whammy ending with its arty, psychedelic aspirations, doesn’t tie up a lot of unanswered questions. All the same, it also clarifies the film’s cryptic opening sequence and its ticking clock, which symbolizes the inexorable forces of Bruce’s short but incredible life adding extra resonance to a dialogue exchange earlier in the film: “For some men, their lives are like a comet. Brilliant and racing through the firmament, but all too short-lived.” A fitting tribute to the Bruce Lee mythos, indeed. 

 

Scanned in 4K from Film Ventures International’s interpositive element, THE DRAGON LIVES looks far better than anything that has come before it with stable colours and solid detail. Again, there really isn’t much to complain about this transfer, as with the DTS-HD 2.0 English mono audio, which also sounds very good with all the dialogue coming through clean and perfectly audible. Michael Worth returns for another audio commentary and he is this time joined by actor Caryn White (now Caryn White Stedman) who imparts tons of information about how she ended up in Taiwan teaching English, how she eventually ended up in the film, her surprise about getting the lead role, and her excitement of working on a film. She goes on to divulge several interesting facts about the production (e.g., all of the film’s extras were brought in from the local Naval base) and how Bruce Li’s acting was “very stiff” during some of the more tender scenes in the film, the closed sets for key martial arts sequences, and the many underlying qualities which “attacked” the typical stereotypes about Chinese people (“Ponytails in modern China are a sign of repression.”), along with its “ominous tone” and many “haunting weird moments” such as Bruce’s obsession with the “monster-machine from the west.” As expected, it’s another fascinating listen! A lengthy audio interview conducted by David Gregory (which kind of doubles as a second audio commentary) with songwriter Anders Gustav Nelsson (27m48s) is also included, and the two men discuss how Nelsson became involved with the film through his band Ming and their record deal at EMI, and other than a few directions, he was given “total freedom” when writing this very memorable song. He also talks about his time on-set, and the how the “clones were lacking the charisma of the real Bruce Lee.” 

 

Caryn White Stedman returns for an on-camera interview in The Taiwan Connection (15m19s), which has some crossover from the aforementioned commentary, but also discusses the political climate in Taiwan at the time, how she attracted a lot of attention due to her blonde hair, her familiarity with Bruce Lee prior to taking on the role and being paid via “envelops in cash”, which she later used to travel around the world, the problematic “interracial relationship” portrayed in the film, and how these Bruceploitation films “filled a gap for all the fans.” Martial artists John Kreng, Tatevik Hunanyan, Ron Strong, and Michael Worth return once again for Bruce Biopics (9m37s), where they informally chat about their first experiences of seeing these biopics (mostly via TV), the films’ many bizarre aspects and inaccuracies, and plenty more besides. Worth also provides another fun intro in Severin’s Kung Fu Theater (1m18s) where he talks about Caryn’s fortuitous circumstance of getting the role, and how this was “one of five separate times in one year that Bruce Li would play the role of Bruce Lee.” A pair of TV spots (43s) finish off the special features. 

 

Godfrey Ho, the mad genius and notorious cut-and-paste director of NINJA TERMINATOR (1986) and a slew of other ninja-themed films from the ’80s directs DRAGON ON FIRE (a.k.a. THE DRAGON, THE HERO, 1980), the first film on disc seven, and one of the more coherent (but that ain’t sayin’ much!) martial films from the director’s incredibly prolific career. In their attempt to infiltrate a large criminal empire led by the wheelchair-bound Tien Hao (Chan Lau), former students and now bitter rivals, Tu Fang (super-kicker John Liu) and Tang San (Tino Wong) who “once defeated all other fighters” with their “strike rock fist” technique must join forces and try to crush the increasingly insane Tien Hao and his army of men, which also includes Philip Ko as his trusted bodyguard.

 

While not to be confused with THE DRAGON ON FIRE, a re-title of Joseph Velasco’s ENTER THREE DRAGONS (1978), Ho’s picture is quite unlike the scores of routine kung fu actioners ground out during this time. With little to no exposition, DRAGON ON FIRE moves like a freight train and is anything but conventional, and although he is featured in most of the promotional material for the film, Dragon Lee only appears in a smallish role that doesn’t seem to have any bearing on the plot whatsoever, but his presence alone adds an even greater intensity to the picture. Featuring several skillfully-composed fight sequences (thanks to action director Tang Tak-Cheung) and some insane plot points (including an extraordinarily trashy scene told via flashback of why Tien Hao - a pale-faced, cackling eunuch and local loon - ended up in a wheelchair) ensures you’ll want to revisit this insane, ass-kicking little flick again, which also includes one of the most outlandish, climatic battles ever unleashed. 

 

Scanned in 2K from Trans-Continental Film Corp’s internegative element, DRAGON ON FIRE looks wonderful with clean, consistent images, which are punctuated by nicely balanced colours. Given the solid film element used, the DTS-HD 2.0 English mono audio also sounds quite good with all the dialogue and stolen music (including Ennio Morricone’s THE BIG GUNDOWN [1967] and Goblin’s DAWN OF THE DEAD [1978], to name but a few) giving the film an appropriately psychotronic ambiance. Amazingly, Michael Worth is joined by Godfrey Ho and Frank Djeng for another fact-filled and very enjoyable audio commentary for a film which Worth describes as “transformational in his appreciation of kung fu films.” Ho discusses his time at Shaw Brothers and his feelings about legendary director Chang Cheh, some of the film’s shooting locations, the film’s ubiquitous opening, his attempt to emulate some of “comedy action” films which were gaining in popularity, the many commercial aspects of the film, how Dragon Lee was simply “added” into the film at the producer’s insistence, the film’s many characters (“Who cares about the story!”) which added to the entertainment value, the film’s spaghetti-western infused narrative, the canned music used throughout the picture and the licensing issues (“No copyright. Just copy!”), how the fight scenes were protracted in one single shot to “allow the audience to watch the action clearly and comfortably.” You can’t help but love Godfrey Ho’s enthusiasm. This is an amazing listen!

 

In Michael Worth’s very entertaining mini-doc Godfrey, The Hero (18m06s), the enthusiastic and good-natured director returns to give Worth and his crew (including David Gregory and Jim Kunz) a tour of the now-defunct Shaw Brothers Clear Water Bay Studios, which is interspersed with an on-camera interview where the director talks about his start in the film business (he was a schoolteacher beforehand), the genesis of THE DRAGON, THE HERO, his admittedly weak screenplays which “works with this kind of movie” and how he learned to cut a picture and arrange shots during his tenure at Shaw Brothers. Ho and the film crew also visit Devil’s Peak in the Sai Kung District of Hong Kong, where most of his infamous ninja pictures were shot. Other special features include a wealth of deleted scenes (23m14s), another episode of Severin’s Kung Fu Theater (1m54s) where Worth declares this film as an “all-time favourite” which “changed his thinking about these films forever”, and the film’s U.S. theatrical trailer narrated by Adolph Caesar (“Dragon Lee, more dangerous than ever!”, 1m49s) finish things off nicely. 

 

Although inaccurately credited to Godfrey Ho, RAGE OF THE DRAGON (1980) is actually the work of Korean director Shi-hyeon Kim, but this is still an apt second feature for disc seven since it also features Dragon Lee, except this time as the film’s lead where he gets to really show off his highly-intense fighting skills. During a skirmish involving a rare historical artifact, Lei Lung’s (Dragon Lee) father is mysteriously killed together with Wang Kwok’s (Martin Chiu) father, which oddly prompts Kwok to pin his father’s murder on Lei Lung who also vows vengeance (“It is my duty to avenge my father’s death!”). However, the quietly confident Master Kwan (the great Carter Wong, herein credited as Carter Hwang), acting as a sort of mediator between the rivaling families, is also trying to get his hands on this elusive relic, so it should come as no surprise to anyone that his neutrality has been an organized charade. 

 

Story wise, RAGE OF THE DRAGON is a routinely B-level programmer of little real distinction, but right from the get-go, this picture bursts with enough action to fill at least three kung fu extravaganzas! As the vendetta driven Lei Lung, Dragon Lee has a commanding presence throughout the picture whose every complex move is accomplished with white-knuckle intensity, while Myung-yue Shin’s roving camerawork and Chang-sun Kim’s fast-cutting inject a genuine energy into the various fight scenes, all of which is topped off with a truly exhilarating climatic battle between Lee and Wang. 

 

Like its co-feature, RAGE OF THE DRAGON was also scanned in 2K from Trans-Continental Film Corp’s internegative element, which nicely preserves a lot of the film’s rather vibrant imagery, even as it displays some wear and tear. The DTS-HD 2.0 English mono audio also sounds quite good with all of the wildly ridiculous sound effects adding extra zing to the film’s many fight scenes. Being a huge fan of Dragon Lee, Michael Worth returns for another audio commentary where he shares tons of pertinent info related to the production, it’s Korean origins, Joseph Lai’s Asso Asia Films, the film’s cast and crew (including some fascinating background info on Carter Wong), the many fighting styles used throughout the film and the difficulty of shooting these scenes on sandy beaches, rocks and ankle-deep water. At the 68-minute mark, he is joined by Chris Poggiali who contributes an array of facts related to the film’s U.S. distribution through Larry Joachim’s Trans-Continental Film Corp and the typical distributor shenanigans like “swapping out titles” for the same film, and Adolph Caesar’s career as a voiceover artist for a seemingly endless assortment of exploitation trailers. In Kung Fu Theaters (8m07s), martial artists John Kreng, Tatevik Hunanyan, Ron Strong, and Michael Worth return once again for the final installment of this roundtable discussion where they reminiscence about “clipping ads from newspapers” and trekking to “broken down palaces” to see some these films, and later during the video age, dubbing their favourite videotapes to watch over and over. Worth returns for another episode of Severin’s Kung Fu Theater (1m36s) where he shares his admiration for Dragon Lee’s “personality and unique fighting style.” Adolph Caesar also returns to narrate the film’s theatrical trailer (“Dragon Lee is back as that skull-smashing, bone-breaking master of kung fu!”, 1m38s), which concludes everything on disc seven. 

 

In what was easily considered to be one of the most difficult-to-see films for years, Chan Chor’s (a.k.a. Chan Chue) THE BIG BOSS PART II (1976) finally makes its official home video debut as the first film on disc eight, a webstore exclusive from Severin Films. While taking up its position firmly within the Bruceploitation genre, this name-only sequel begins exactly where Bruce Lee’s THE BIG BOSS (1971) ended, with the film’s hero (now cheekily replaced by Bruce Le in one of his earliest roles) rotting in jail for the murder of “The Big Boss.” When Bruce gets an unexpected visit from his brother Cheng Chiao-an (Lo Lieh), a longshoreman on leave during his visit to Thailand, he convinces Bruce that “he will revenge myself (sic)” for the murder of their father at the ice factory from the first film. Naturally, this leads to a number of spirited fight scenes (including a pretty impressive and precisely timed apartment complex fight complete with Jimi Hendrix guitar riffs blaring on the soundtrack) with a bunch of Thai gangsters who are also on the lookout for “seven tons of stolen gold”, the new contraband at the ice factory…

 

Despite the relatively basic plotline, which attempts to extend and capitalize on THE BIG BOSS’ narrative, this picture follows a typically predictable and convoluted pattern of gangster insolence and retribution, but contains enough odd touches and fittingly reckless outbursts of kung fu violence to sustain viewer interest. Other than the usual shortcomings, Lo Lieh handles himself well with a role he probably could have done in his sleep, and in between administering several kung fu thrashings to just about everyone in the cast, he also gets preoccupied with the charms Wu Pei Lan (Wang Ping), who eventually learns that her father is not really an “honest businessman.” 

 

Even though THE BIG BOSS PART II looks and cheap and rushed, it’s great to finally have this legitimately available for everyone to see, which was taken from “the only known 35mm print” obtained from a private collector, which is in suitably rough shape with plenty of print damage, but given the film’s rarity, this is still a cause for celebration. The DTS-HD 2.0 Mandarin mono audio (with burned-in Cantonese and English subtitles) is also in rough shape, but totally audible just the same. The only special features include another installment of Severin’s Kung Fu Theater (1m51s) where Michael Worth describes how this film became “immortalized” due to its scarcity and how this was Bruce Le’s “first big step towards his Bruceploitation future.” A poor-quality English-language trailer (“If you enjoyed THE BIG BOSS, you will enjoy THE BIG BOSS PART II even more!”, 3m38s) is also included. 

 

Further capitalizing on the success of Bruce Lee’s films, the second feature on disc eight is Yang Yang’s THE BLACK DRAGON VS. THE YELLOW TIGER (1974), a thinly-veiled sequel-of-sorts to Bruce Lee’s THE WAY OF THE DRAGON (1972). Following the death of one of their operatives (referred to only as No. 9, which is probably Chuck Norris’ Colt character from TWOTD), at the hands of Tang Lung (Bruce Lee in TWOTD), a criminal syndicate in the heart of Rome dispatches a number of killers to try and find the elusive Tang who has gone into hiding in Hong Kong. When Tang’s cousin Tong Lung (also played by the real-life Tong Lung) pretends to be his elusive cousin Tang, a series of mandatory kung fu brawls initiate the slender plotline, but when the syndicate kidnap a young boy he has become friendly with, the grief-stricken Tong (now fueled with hate) is forced to seek the ultimate vengeance, but the infamous “foreign boxer” or Black Dragon (Clint Robinson), eagerly awaits…

 

Shot in Taiwan, THE BLACK DRAGON VS. THE YELLOW TIGER was one of the earliest Bruceploitation films (according to actor Clint Robinson, interviewed elsewhere on this disc, he confirms the film was shot in the early part of 1973) to hit cinema screens and the only film to encompass key elements from THE WAY OF THE DRAGON. Although compromised by a typically untidy script, the film is saved by a substantial amount of messily executed fight scenes wherein Tong Lung cannily plays the syndicate for a bunch of fools. While by no means as memorable as subsequent Bruce clones, Lung has does have some fun with the role, when he practices some of Bruce’s infamous gestures in front of mirror, and later, he is even heard whistling Sammy Davis Jr.’s “Eee-O Eleven!”

 

Utilizing two U.S. film prints which were “Frankensteined” together, this looks far better than the many crappy VHS videocassettes from decades ago, and even though the prints still showcase plenty of scratches and some heavy print damage, the film is finally presented in its original 2.35:1 aspect ratio, which makes a world of difference when watching this minor Bruceploitation effort. The DTS-HD 2.0 English mono audio fairs about the same as the picture, but all of the imperfect pops and cracks nicely coincide with the numerous fits of mirthless, maniacal laughter within the picture. Michael Worth returns for his last audio commentary where he talks about the film’s connections to THE WAY OF THE DRAGON, the film’s “cut-and-paste Monty Pythonesque” opening credits, and the interesting examples of fighting techniques that “tie into both the style of film combat at this time and the transition it was going through.” Other discussion points include details about the film’s production company, Foo Hwa Cinema Company, some of the “shifts in the genre” at the time in regards to the transference from wuxia films to kung fu bashers, and some of the “sloppy and heavy techniques” used throughout the film. At the 76-minute mark, actor Clint Robinson chimes in to discuss how he got involved in the film, the film’s shooting schedule, and how he entered the world of martial arts tournaments. In the final installment of Severin’s Kung Fu Theater (1m35s), Worth touches on the film being “the only spin-off” of THE WAY OF THE DRAGON, and some of Tong Lung’s “Lee mannerisms” which almost became “tourette-like ticks.” The film’s U.S trailer (3m48s), which heavily promotes the film’s finale (“Honky, you lookin’ at the ni**er that is gonna kill you!”) brings this mammoth box set to a close. 

 

Encased in one of Severin Films’ customary hard boxes, the set also comes with a thick, beautifully-designed 100-page book (!), with writing from Michael Worth who gives readers a solid primer for Bruceploitation with his introduction to the genre in “The Bruce Clone Connection” (“I had been duped!”), Chris Poggiali documents “The Bruceploitation Invasion of America 1973-1983” in his incredibly well-researched essay “Exit the Dragon Enter the Clones.” Then Jon Casbard takes us on a journey back in time to “The Dawn of Video Formations” in his essay “Inter Ocean Continental Shore” wherein he discusses the rise of the UK pre-certification video boom and the various kung fu films and Bruceploitation classics released by such adventurous labels such as Hokushin, Intervision, and Inter-Ocean Video (“When it comes to movies we’ve got it taped.”), whereas Roger Cross looks into the rich history of the Ocean Shores video label in “Ocean Shores and the Kung Fu Home Video Boom.” Worth returns for the book’s final essay “Bruce Li & I” where he talks about the importance Bruce Li had on his childhood and the impact of watching these films on the big screen (“To a kid like me at that time, it was Kung Fu Christmas every week.”) and then finally meeting the man during the production of ENTER THE CLONES OF BRUCE.

 

Capped off by David Gregory’s fascinating documentary ENTER THE CLONES OF BRUCE, Severin Films’ THE GAME OF CLONES - BRUCEPLOITATION COLLECTION VOL. 1 not only includes several must-see Bruceploitation films, but an embarrassment of riches in the form of audio commentaries and several expertly-produced special features, which easily makes this incredibly comprehensive box set one of the very best releases of the year! Order from Severin Films here.

THE GAME OF CLONES - BRUCEPLOITATION COLLECTION VOL. 1 - BLU-RAY REVIEW

Long-time staples of inner-city cinemas, videocassettes, and later, hundreds of DVD bargain-bins, kung fu films have always enjoyed continued popularity since the early ’70s, but as outlined in Grady Hendrix’s and Chris Poggiali’s superb book on the subject These Fists Break Bricks (Mondo Books, 2021), “before 1973, Americans didn’t know a nunchuk from a ninja, but over the next decade and a half, martial arts movies would influence the birth of hip hop and break dancing, win Emmy awards, earn millions at the box office, sell hundreds of thousands of videocassettes, and introduce the country to some of the biggest non-white stars to hit the silver screen. Their styles, attitudes, moves, and stories would permanently alter Hollywood’s DNA.” With the sudden passing of actor Bruce Lee in 1973, who was on the cusp of worldwide superstardom, and whose last film, Robert Clouse’s ENTER THE DRAGON (1973) had just hit theatres, seldom have filmmakers and distributors sought so earnestly to take advantage of – and even camouflage - Bruce Lee’s death with a seemingly endless stream of rip-offs, spin-offs and wannabe sequels, which have since become known as Bruceploitation films. Judging by their offbeat cast (which featured similar-sounding stars such as Bruce Le, Bruce Li, Dragon Lee, Bruce Liang, and even a Bronson Lee [!]) and thoroughly mixed-up credits, a brazen attempt was made to pass these films off as the real deal both ’Stateside, and even in their land of origin. Given the sheer nature of Bruceploitation titles produced over the next few years, it’s no wonder many of these cracked concoctions fell by the wayside even as they enjoyed a relatively healthy – albeit compromised – life on home video. Well, thanks to the efforts of Severin Films and continued work from martial artist, actor, and Bruceploitation Bible head honcho Michael Worth and martial arts and Hong Kong film historian Frank Djeng, many of these Bruceploitation movies have finally gained some recognition in THE GAME OF CLONES – BRUCEPLOITATION COLLECTION VOL. 1, an incredibly comprehensive 8-disc, 14-film box set, which finally sheds light on these highly-entertaining kung fu films.

 

Kicking things off in fine style on disc one is David Gregory’s groundbreaking ENTER THE CLONES OF BRUCE (2023), a terrific deep-dive documentary, which not only serves as a perfect primer for the uninitiated, but for Asian film experts and Bruceploitation authorities as well. Featuring several heretofore unseen on-camera interviews with the likes of Bruce Li, Bruce Le, Dragon Lee, Bruce Liang, Yasuaki Kurata (a.k.a. Bruce Lo), Philip Ko, Godfrey Ho, Lee Tso Nam, Roy Horan, Angela Mao, and many more besides, Gregory’s film cleverly outlines the subsequent fervor for anything “Bruce Lee” in the wake of the actor’s unexpected death. As pointed out in These Fists Break Bricks, “Never in motion picture history has the death of an actor unleashed so much greed,” which had producers desperately searching for the next Bruce Lee. Although many of the actors like Ho Tsung-Tao (a.k.a. Bruce Li) were “actually repulsed by the idea of acting like Bruce Lee,” they were happy for the work even if they knew it was nothing more than a “gimmick,” whereas South Korean actor Moon Kyoung-seok (a.k.a. Dragon Lee) believed his films were made to “help appease that longing for Bruce Lee.” Conversely, “workaholic” Huang Kin-Lung (a.k.a. Bruce Le) didn’t have such qualms appearing as a Bruce clone exclaiming, “You can call me whatever you want as long as you pay me!” As you would expect, Bruce Li, Bruce Le and Dragon Lee are afforded the lion’s share of screen time, which not only expands and clarifies their rather remarkable bodies of work, but their perception of it as well. As the film develops, it becomes quite clear, just how passionate some of these actors were about their work, and it’s great to see, that nearly 50-years later, each of them gets to talk about and happily relive these films. In light of their many flaws, none of the pictures are treated with indifference and ENTER THE CLONES OF BRUCE wholeheartedly embraces their entertaining – and at times comical – imperfections, which is highlighted by several fast-moving clips (expertly cut together by Douglas Buck), and some wonderfully inventive motion graphics courtesy of Kyle Broom and his team, which thoroughly captures the fast-paced spirit of a bygone film-making era. 

 

Following a successful worldwide festival and theatrical run earlier this year, ENTER THE CLONES OF BRUCE arrived on Blu looking every bit as flawless as you’d expect for a new documentary, with many of the remastered film clips looking excellent and a great deal more watchable than the cruddy VHS tapes from years ago. Also, the DTS-HD master audio 2.0 stereo track has no issues whatsoever, sounding consistent throughout all of the many interviews (which are in English, Cantonese, Mandarin, Korean, French, German and even Japanese), with the film’s perfectly chosen title song “King of Kung Fu” (taken from the U.S. release version of Lin Pin’s GOODBYE, BRUCE LEE: HIS LAST GAME OF DEATH [1975]) strengthening the film’s exhilarating pace and tone. 

 

The numerous special features begin with a first-rate audio commentary from director/co-executive producer David Gregory, co-producers Michael Worth, Frank Djeng and Vivian Sau Man Wong, and director of photography Jim Kunz, who cover a ton of details related to the production and the overall structure of the documentary, which includes the film’s pre-credit sequence and a “very brief recap of martial arts cinema in general, which was a challenge to keep short and snappy, given the rich history of martial arts films and the Hong Kong-based Shaw Brothers studio where many of them were filmed.” They also go over the difficulties of scheduling the film’s many interviews (Bruce Le was an especially tough one to nail down), and some of the other adversities of shooting in Hong Kong, Taiwan and South Korea in this years-in-the-making documentary. In their quest to be as “comprehensive as possible” with the film, they also enthusiastically discuss the blaxploitation crossover films with stars such as Jim Kelly (“He’s James Bond and Bruce Lee rolled up into one cool package of dynamite!”) and Ron Van Clief (who also shows up for an on-camera interview), and the popularity of kung fu films in America thanks to enterprising producers and/or distributors such as Aquarius Releasing’s Terry Levene, Serafim Karalexis, and even Andre Morgan from Golden Harvest. It’s a great, wide-ranging, and amiable conversation, where everyone involved agrees that the film was “one of the most fun shoots, even after all of the stresses!”

 

Taking into consideration the doc’s extensive subject matter, it should come as no surprise that the initial rough assembly for ENTER THE CLONES OF BRUCE clocked in at three hours (!), leaving plenty of worthwhile material on the cutting room floor, which Severin have thoughtfully re-purposed via three featurettes. In Working at Shaw Bros (19m21s), former Shaw Brothers players David Chiang, Lee Chiu, Lo Meng and many others discuss the importance of the infamous studio dubbed by Godfrey Ho as the “Oriental Hollywood.” In Bruce Lee & I (24m32s) a number of Bruce Lee’s colleagues talk about their “personal recollections of Lee and his influence” and how he created the market for kung fu films, and whose “technical prowess” was unmatched, which made his “movements beautiful for the big screen.” Of course, everyone interviewed also reflect on the sudden passing of Lee (“How on earth can he die?”), and how he put “Hong Kong movies on the map.” The “profound” history of kung fu movies in Hong Kong is also thoroughly discussed in The Lost World of Kung Fu Film Negatives (15m59s), which includes further interviews with Lee Chiu, David Chiang, Lo Meng, and Angela Mao, alongside Lee Tso Nam, Roy Horan, film preservationist Stéphane Derdérian, and film collector Emmanuel Rossi, who go over the importance of these films and “lack of preservation” over the years, which even includes a cool visit to the Hong Kong Film Archive. In one of the more fascinating location tours included on any disc, Frank Djeng gives us a tour of Bruce’s Hong Kong (27m27s) where he not only visits Bruce’s now-demolished house (which was turned into a “Love Hotel” after his death!), but several key locations from his films including the Jumbo Kingdom Restaurant (where he discusses this long-standing restaurant and it’s sad fate), what’s left of the Shaw Brothers studios, the bustling Yau Ma Tei market, the Red Pepper Restaurant from Robert Clouse’s and Bruce Lee’s GAME OF DEATH (1978), Betty Ting Pei’s apartment complex where Bruce Lee died, the funeral parlour, and several former and still-operational theatres where Mr. Djeng first saw many of these films. It’s a wonderful, absorbing look at Hong Kong then and now, which makes you want to board a plane, and visit this fascinating city for yourself! The rest of the special features include the film’s trailer (2m43s), an alternate trailer (2m00s), and Severin’s Kung Fu Theater (1m34s) with Michael Worth and David Gregory where they provide a brief intro and genesis for their wonderful film.

 

In what turns out to be is a fitting start to this collection, disc two begins with Joseph Kong’s (a.k.a. Joseph Velasco) aptly-titled THE CLONES OF BRUCE LEE (1980) and features three (!) Bruce Lee clones in this crazy, highly-entertaining romp from producer extraordinaire Dick Randall. Following the sudden death of the ‘real’ Bruce Lee, his blood and DNA is extracted by the Secret Branch of Investigators, a supposedly clandestine organization led by Mr. Colin (Andy Hannah, herein dubbed by prolific voice-actor John Gayford), who instructs Professor Lucas (Jon Benn) to create three clones (“What a scientific achievement this will be!”) to help fight crime throughout Asia. But before they are sent on their respective missions, the three clones (unimaginatively named Bruce Lee One [Dragon Lee], Bruce Lee Two [Bruce Le], and Bruce Lee Three [Bruce Lai]) are first subjected to numerous experiments, which involve a giant spaghetti strainer with electrodes placed atop their heads and extended training drills overseen by the ubiquitous Mr. Chinese Hercules himself Bolo Yeung (“Good! You learn quickly!”). First, Bruce Lee One is sent to infiltrate Chi Lo, who runs a lucrative gold-smuggling racket amid the Taiwan film scene. Impressed by his martial arts skills (“Watch the way this boy moves!”), Bruce Lee One eventually launches an all-out assault (“You’re mine now! All of you!”) on one of Chi Lo’s impoverished film productions. Meanwhile, Bruce Lee Two and Three are sent to Thailand where they meet up with their chaperon (Bruce Tai, who, rather unbelievably, also looks like Bruce Lee!), and ordered to take down Dr. Ngai, a ruthless drug kingpin who also wants to take over the world with his army of bronze-coated strongmen, but before you can say unexpected turnaround, the three Bruce’s (or is that four?) will have to vie for supremacy when the increasingly mad Professor Lucas pits them against each other, which culminates in an epic kung fu battle… 

 

Though produced in the late ’70s, the film’s plot and tone is pure late-’60s all the way, with its James Bond inspired baddies (“Soon I will conquer the whole world!”), espionage angles, a mad scientist, and an army of bronzemen, which our Bruce clones have to fight as appropriately clangorous metallic sound effects reverberate on the soundtrack. At another juncture (edited from many theatrical prints of the film), Bruce Lee Three’s initial introduction to Thai customs has him come across a gang of naked women frolicking at a beach (“They’ll eat your kind for dinner!” Exclaims his escort.), which only adds to the film’s ‘everything-but-the-kitchen-sink’ attitude. In spite of some hilarious overacting, which doesn’t hurt the entertainment value one bit, THE CLONES OF BRUCE LEE is a highly watchable, fast-paced, and at times gleefully bit of lovable trash, which perfectly exemplifies just how “absolutely bonkers” some of the Bruceploitation films eventually became. It’s easy to see why this film is such a fan favourite!

 

In what is undoubtedly one of the earliest releases from Media Home Entertainment, THE CLONES OF BRUCE LEE hit VHS in 1978, and while this 46-year old tape may still have some collectability value, the film’s original 2.35:1 compositions and fight choreography were severely compromised on this full-screen tape. Taken from two different prints (one from Germany and one from Italy with a title card that reads: BRUCE LEE IL VOLTO DELLA VENDETTA / trans: Bruce Lee, The Face of Vengeance), Severin’s new restoration reinstates the film’s proper scope photography and the film’s numerous – and not to mention totally gratuitous – nude scenes. Given the scarcity of proper film elements for most of these films, the restoration herein looks very good, and outside a few instances of scratches and dirt, the film’s colourful, comic-book aesthetic is nicely replicated, and a great deal better than any VHS tape or lousy YouTube copy. There is really nothing to complain about. The English dubbed DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0 track also sounds fine given the materials and post-synched dubbing, which includes numerous voice talent from several Italian and European films including the aforementioned John Gayford, and others such as Robert Sommer who provides the voice for Bolo Yeung. 

 

Extras begin with a fantastic audio commentary, which, like the itself, is divided into segments and features numerous film historians, scholars, and kung fu film aficionados. Moderated by Michael Worth, the first section begins with Rick Benn, the brother of actor Jon T. Benn who goes over his time spent in Hong Kong when he and his brother relocated there to pursue an “off shore mutual real estate fund”, Jon’s relationship with Golden Harvest head honcho Raymond Chow and how he got into starring in several films, and chuckling at his brother’s “offbeat” voice used in said film. Next up, Frank Djeng discusses the film’s history in great detail including its various release titles, alternate titles, the actors and their backgrounds (with a nice focus on the rarely-discussed Bruce Lai), the film’s “good fight choreography”, and his fondness for the film, which he deems “one of the better Bruceploitation titles.” Bruce Lee expert Brandon Bentley is thrown into the mix at the 17-minute mark wherein he discusses his experience with these films, the film’s many inconsistencies, the supporting and bit players (including foreign actor Alexander Grand), and the differences between the “Bruce Lee style of fights” including bashers and shapes (i.e., animal style). Next in line is film historian Matthew Whitaker who gets to give us his thoughts on the film’s travelogue sequence including the film’s infamous “sirens on the shore”, the film’s weird “Benny Hill moments” and the cruel DNA associated with Bruce Lai’s character in the film. For the film’s final act, Hong Kong based actor, and “lifelong fan of Asian films” Mike Leeder discusses the interesting set-up of the bronzemen, which he regards as the “ultimate slice of Bruceploitation,” how the film finds plenty of opportunities to “work in nudity”, his relationship with Bruce Le (who apparently has a sharp memory and excellent recollection of film titles), and the importance of restoring these usually-neglected films. Stuntman John Kreng then joins both Worth and Djeng wherein they discuss the intricacies of shooting the fight choreography related to timing, angles, and so forth, how the filmmakers “had very little and made it work, and the importance of the stuntmen “to fill the gap” and keep the action moving. Lastly, aforementioned film historian and author Chris Poggiali discusses the film’s U.S. theatrical release via the Boston-based Newport Releasing (formerly known as Hallmark Releasing) and some of the litigations these Bruceploitation films suffered thanks to their cheeky, no-holds-barred marketing. 

 

In the wonderful, but forlorn A Day with Jon T. Benn (16m35s), Michael Worth conducts the final interview with the actor who discusses his early years travelling through Europe before visiting Hong Kong with his brother, which he loved so much that he ended up staying for 30 years! He also discusses the HK film scene at the time (“Triads controlled everything.”) and how he ended up working in over 50 films where he became known as “one-shot Benn.” And yeah, he thought THE CLONES OF BRUCE LEE was “kind of a ridiculous film!” Further extras include another installment of Severin’s Kung Fu Theater (1m54s) where Michael Worth discusses the self-reflexive nature of the film and how this version was culled from Italian and German prints. Finally, the film’s trailer (1m42s, “THE CLONES OF BRUCE LEE brings a new dimension to martial arts films!”) finishes off the extras. 

 

A cohesive narrative takes a definite back-seat in Joseph Velasco’s nearly indecipherable ENTER THREE DRAGONS (1978), the co-feature on disc two, which once again reunites Bruce Lai and Dragon Lee. Following a botched switcheroo involving a cache of diamonds, Sammy (Samuel Walls) gets himself into trouble with the local underworld when he’s implicated in their theft. Soon after, Sammy enlists the help of his friend Dragon Hung (Lai) who is the spitting image of Bruce Lee, but Dragon Yeung, who is frequently mistaken for Dragon Hung, also becomes embroiled in the chaos, and to confuse matters even further, Bruce Hung (Dragon Lee), the brother of Dragon, is also thrown into the mix! Despite the wafer-thin plot (it could probably fit onto one side of a single sheet of toilet paper), which sees most of the actors utter only the most rudimentary of expository dialogue (“Your fighting is quite good!”), the fight choreography is pretty damn good by mediocre kung fu movie standards (Dragon Lee’s intensity is the clear standout here), highlighted by a terrific punch-up involving Bolo Yeung (“He’s like an elephant!”) and an impressive climatic cross-country duel between criminal mastermind Kao-Fei (the great Philip Ko) with both Bruce Lai and Dragon Lee, which more or less salvages the entire film. 

 

Featuring a new 2K scan from a 35mm interpositive, the film looks surprisingly good (scratches and all) in its original 2.35:1 aspect ratio, which is especially helpful during the film’s many kung fu scenes that take advantage of the entire screen. Once again, the DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0 track sounds perfectly fine with Giorgio Moroder’s MIDNIGHT EXPRESS(1978) score (one of the many stolen music cues in the film) getting quite the workout. Extras include another episode of Severin’s Kung Fu Theater (1m59s) with Michael Worth where he describes the film’s confusing nature, and how director Kong attempts to “over Bruce the production with various bowl cuts, back-fisting, and nose-swiping candidates led by the great Dragon Lee.” He also briefly discusses Neal Adams’ celebrated U.S. poster art for the film. The film’s scope trailer (as THE DRAGON ON FIRE, 3m24s) is also included. 

For our second part of this review, visit here. 

2020 TEXAS GLADIATORS - 4K UHD REVIEW

Video blurb from Media Home Entertainment’s 1985 VHS videocassette: “In the year 2020, hordes of road warriors swarmed across our shattered world, it was a time in need for heroes, it was time for… 2020 TEXAS GLADIATORS.”

Made hot on the heels of Aristide Massaccesi’s way-above-par ENDGAME (1983), yet other dystopian adventure with star Al Cliver, 2020 TEXAS GLADIATORS (1983) continued to further over-extend the popularity of George Miller’s THE ROAD WARRIOR (a.k.a. MAD MAX 2, 1982), and basically just dusted-off and revamped a leftover spaghetti western script, morphing it into a one-of-a-kind post-apocalyptic actioner instead. And if we’re to believe the familiar Anglicized ‘Kevin Mancuso’ byline, the film was also directed by maestro Massaccesi (better known to most Italosleaze devotees as Joe D’Amato), but it has since been revealed that the film is the unofficial directorial debut of Italian actor - and frequent Massaccesi collaborator - ‘George Eastman’/Luigi Montefiori, who also penned the screenplay. Although easily accessible during the ’80s via Media Home Entertainment’s VHS and Beta videocassettes, this unapologetically trashy film has remained stubbornly unavailable on disc in North America, but thanks to Severin Films’ impressive UHD(!)/BD combo, Italian trash fans can finally rejoice and see the film at its absolute best.

 

Following a raid on a group of marauding, green-faced mutants who have taken control of a local outpost, Nisus (Cliver) and his band of Texas Rangers (complete with colourful monikers like Catch Dog, Jab, Halakron, and Red Wolfe) handily execute everyone, but not before they witness the protracted rape of a nun, the crucifixion of a priest, and witness another nun gorily cut her own throat, scenes which got the film into hot waters at the now-defunct Ontario Film Review Board (OFRB) during the ’80s, who demanded several cuts to Media’s Canadian tape release. When Catch Dog (Daniel Stephen), attempts to rape to Maida (Sabrina Siani), one of the few remaining survivors, he is subsequently banished from the group, but soon thereafter, Nisus joins Maida in a remote colony, a large industrial location that is ostensibly the site of a new source of energy. Years later, the workaday equanimity of Nisus is shattered when the New Order, led by a tyrannical, Nazi-like leader calling himself the Black One (Donal O’Brien), overrun this once peaceful community. 

 

Continuing their abstractly systematic upholding of the law, the remaining Rangers now led by Halakron (Peter Hooten) come across Maida at a local watering hole (which includes video games, pinball machines, and sloppy joes on the menu) where she has been sold to an unscrupulous gambler who likes to play Russian roulette. Winning her back, Halakron does everything in his power to keep her out of harm’s way, even as they team up with a group of Native Americans (“We don’t trust white men!”), which precipitates the violent – and wonderfully schlocky – finale with the New Order.

 

Ignoring the film’s obvious imitative streak, 2020 TEXAS GLADIATORS is nonetheless capably enough constructed (ignoring of course the hilariously misspelled “Exsplosive” signposts!), and like the westerns it so gleefully emulates, takes full advantage of the deserted quarries outside of Rome, which serve as the perfect – and economical – backdrop for this Mad Max wannabe. Bolstered by Montefiori’s swift directorial style, the film’s tight budget still manages to cram in sufficient action for at least two lesser post-nuke films, which includes a sloppily-choreographed barroom brawl, freefall dirtbike stunts, car chases, several squib-popping shootouts, and a scantily-clad, shotgun-toting Sabrina Siani. As the New Order’s leader, genre-fave Donal O’Brien, chews more scenery than he did in Marino Girolami’s celebrated gore epic DOCTOR BUTCHER M.D. (a.k.a. ZOMBI HOLOCAUST, 1980), and is easily one of the film’s many highlights. Alongside Hooten, minor-league action stars Harrison Muller and Japanese-born Hal Yamanouchi, (both of whom went on to appear in other post-apocalyptic films such as Romolo Guerrieri’s THE FINAL EXECUTIONER [1984] and Sergio Martino’s2019: AFTER THE FALL OF NEW YORK [1983], respectively), fittingly round-out this briskly-paced bit of enjoyable hokum. And don’t forget to be on the lookout for Geretta Geretta who unexpectedly pops up as an ass-kicking New Order punk!

 

For its North American UHD and BD debut, Severin Films made use of a brand new 4K scan taken from the film’s original negative and the results are exceptional, especially given the film’s low-budget pedigree. Apart from a few instances of softness inherent in the some of the camerawork, everything is clean, crisp and colourful, and a huge improvement over the German New Entertainment DVD from 2009, which was not only edited, but fullscreen as well. The DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0 Mono audio tracks in English and Italian (the latter with English subtitles) also sound excellent with plenty of nice aggression during the film’s many action scenes, which is nicely backed up by Carlo Maria Cordio’s (here credited as Francis Taylor) pulsating synth score. English subtitles for the hard of hearing are also included.

 

The extra features on Severin’s disc begin with Manlio Gomarasca’s Shoot Me: The Real Story of the Italian Texas Gladiators (16m59s), a terrific featurette, which recounts the making of this troubled production with input from assistant director Michele Soavi (who worked extensively with Massaccesi in between his time working alongside Dario Argento), Luigi Montefiori, Al Cliver (a.k.a. Pier Luigi Conti), and Aristide Massaccesi. In it, they discuss “mimicking hit movies”, Montefiori’s “weaknesses as a director” and his “love/hate relationship” with Massaccesi, but Montefiori also admits “it was fun because it was such bullshit!” It’s great piece, which finally sheds some light on the true ownership of this film. In Gladiator Geretta (10m33), actor Geretta Geretta discusses her time working in Italy and her many memorable roles, and how refreshing it was to be cast as the “tough black one” instead of a “hooker with a heart of gold” or a “gang member.” She also talks warmly of Soavi, who directed most of her scenes in the film and was happy to reunite with him on Lamberto Bava’s DEMONS (1986). The film’s theatrical trailer (2m55s), which is scored with Franco Micalizzi’s title theme from Umberto Lenzi’s THE CYNIC, THE RAT AND THE FIST (1977), finish off the extras. And for those who order directly from the Severin Films webstore, the limited edition also includes the film’s complete and never-before-released CD soundtrack (20 tracks, 48m30s), as well as a reversible wrap, and a slipcover. 

 

Whichever edition you choose, you’re sure to be pleased with Severin Films’ superb UHD/BD combo of this diverting and outrageously colourful post-nuke film, which would be perfectly complimented by a party-size pizza and a six-pack of beers.