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 more focused on the more tawdry and scandalous aspects of Lee’s life. This becomes especially prevalent 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, walking on a stretch of beach as an overly emotional ballad swells on the soundtrack. 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 their 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 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 OF 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.
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