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 PART 2

For the second part of our detailed look at Severin Films’ THE GAME OF CLONES – BRUCEPLOITATION COLLECTION VOL. 1, disc three kicks-off with Joseph Velasco’s thoroughly engaging ENTER THE GAME OF DEATH (1978), one of the best-loved rip-offs of Robert Clouse’s and Bruce Lee’s GAME OF DEATH (1978). Under its U.S. title of THE KING OF KUNG FU, promotional copy not surprisingly touted it as being “Already an all-time classic! This is the film that others will be judged by!” Set against a bright red background and an assortment of stolen music from the likes of Lalo Schifrin’s ENTER THE DRAGON (1973) and Marvin Hamlisch’s THE SPY WHO LOVED ME (1977), Bruce Le is first seen (in a yellow track suit, of course!) demonstrating his kung fu skills with lots of rapid-fire punches and kicks, and nunchaku expertise. Here, he stars as Chang who is hired by Blue Robe, “a secret organization set up to fight the Japanese” in pre-WWII China. After a highly confidential security document goes missing, which is deemed “vitally important, and in the wrong hands, most dangerous”, Chang must fend off both Mr. Wang and Mr. Kawasaki and their seemingly endless assortment of flunkies. As they squabble over this elusive document, it is eventually “hidden on the top floor in a tower”, which Chang must retrieve, but not before facing a group of skilled fighters on each level…

 

Although topical in its references to Chinese and Japanese tensions, the pencil-thin plot serves merely as an excuse for Bruce Le to come to blows with a number of fighters, with the standout being his ascension up the tower (“Out of my way! I’m going upstairs!”) as he battles a variety of unconventional opponents. Some of the highlights include an auburn-haired baddie who not only practices “snake style” kung fu, but is surrounded by writhing clusters of snakes, which he proceeds to throw at Chang, and in one particularly outlandish moment, he bites the head off a real snake, and then proceeds to shower its blood at our hero! Pre-empting – or perhaps stealing! – the as-yet-unfilmed “red room” sequence from the GAME OF DEATH script, Chang must also fight a crazed warrior (Chiu Chi-Ling) who can only fight in a red-lit room before battling the man dressed in white (Nam Seok-Hoon), who also proves to be no match for Chang. In a rather bizarre turn of events, this extended sequence occurs only in the second act (!), but a succession of endless punch-ups with a whole army of combatants (including Samuel Walls, and of course, Bolo Yeung), reaches its kung fu fighting crescendo, which is reinforced by Bruce’s flashbacks to his cousin’s rape at the hands of Kawasaki. 

 

Taken from a German 35mm print, ENTER THE GAME OF DEATH has the usual inconsistencies such as occasional print damage and some softness in the image, but this is still quite the revelation when compared to Best Film & Video’s heavily-cropped VHS videocassette from the ’80s. Retaining the film’s original 2.35:1 aspect ratio, this colourful print still has a measure of clarity not seen in past analogue editions, which should keep most fans very, very happy. The DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0 English audio is also on par with the film’s image quality, but for the most part, all of the over-amplified kung fu fights and wonky dialogue sound just fine. Given the film’s solid following, Severin have included a number of special features beginning with a partial audio commentary from Michael Worth (42m43s) wherein he discusses his first time seeing the film at the Lux Theater in Oakland, California, the film’s director Joseph Velasco, the cutting of various fight scenes to help “string together a plot of very little importance”, the various copied elements from GAME OF DEATH(including the infamous “red room” sequence), its TV airings on KTLA in Los Angeles, and Bruce Le’s “rise through the ranks.” It’s short but very entertaining.

 

Other special features include a scene specific audio commentary with actor Chiu Chi-Ling (4m26s) wherein the exuberant actor talks about shooting his brief scene in the film, but mostly has a good chuckle seeing himself on screen. Actor Chiu Chi-Ling returns in Kung Fu Movie Hustle (14m49s), an on-camera interview where he discusses his family history, his martial arts schools, his film appearances, and how most of his colleagues “became actors to make a living.” In Talking a Good Game (11m22s), martial artists John Kreng, Tatevik Hunanyan, Ron Strong, and Michael Worth sit down at Jim Kunz’s studios to discuss their first experiences of seeing GAME OF DEATH (and other Bruce Lee films), how the “red room” sequence was “stolen” from Bruce’s original shooting script, and their thoughts on many of the subsequent Bruceploitation films. Finally, Michael Worth returns for another brief but enjoyable intro for the film in Severin’s Kung Fu Theater (1m23s), and then the film’s U.S. release trailer (“The King of Kung Fu is back and he’s up to his old tricks!”, 3m00s) draws the special features to a close.

 

The second feature on disc three is Lin Pin’s and Harold B. Swartz’s GOODBYE BRUCE LEE, HIS LAST GAME OF DEATH (1975), yet another GAME OF DEATH cash-in which is noteworthy for being released 3-years prior to Bruce Lee’s picture. Ripped directly from the still potent headlines about Lee’s death, the filmmakers cheekily attempt to wholeheartedly endorse this picture as the real thing. In fact, according to the audio commentary found elsewhere on this disc, when the film was released by Terry Levene’s Aquarius Releasing, a “State wide injunction” was filed in Pennsylvania against the picture after theater patrons were fooled by its deceptive marketing and demanded their money back! Opening as a quasi-documentary with narration by the great Adolph Caesar, the film chronicles Bruce Lee’s “one burning ambition”, which was to “master the martial arts of the orient.” Through a variety of magazine covers, newsreel footage, and even an interview with Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, Bruce’s co-star from GAME OF DEATH, the picture goes on to clumsily introduce Bruce Li as the “ideal stand-in” to finish Bruce’s final film. Following some vigorous gymnastics training set to Candy’s insanely catchy theme song “The King of Kung Fu”, Lee is then caught up in an altercation in a back alley, which eventually leads to a box of missing cash and confrontations with Mr. K (Lung Fei), the leader of a vast syndicate. Digging himself ever deeper into the thick of Mr. K’s omnipotent organization, plenty of large-scale fights ensue, but when Bruce’s fiancé (Mung Ping) is kidnapped, he must fight his way up the tower of death where she is being held.

 

Li’s ever-resourceful character (“You crooks are always weaklings and cowards!”) gets into punch-ups as casually as changing his underwear, and although this is one of Bruce Li’s first Bruceploitation efforts, he comes off quite well and is completely believable as the “tough yet likable character Bruce Lee brought to the screen.” Settings and costumes provide plenty of ’70s retro kitsch, while some of the gangsters – including big boss man Mr. K and his Elvis-style bouffant hair – seem to have stepped in from the pages of Cracked magazine. Action is economical but effective with loads of mindless fight scenes (including a terrific pole-fighting clash in a city square), which keep things moving along briskly. Despite its occasionally indecipherable continuity (the film’s intended “film-within-a film” aspect is completely spoiled in the current edit), the unusual structure definitely helped the film become a notable commercial success, which was no doubt helped along by Candy’s ever-reliable theme song that conveniently plays whenever the film threatens to slow down. 

 

Although released on DVD by Anchor Bay in 2004, Severin’s new 2K restoration taken from Aquarius Releasing’s CRI looks very solid, even with the film’s newsreel-styled opening and generally undistinguished photography. Once more, the English DTS-HD 2.0 mono audio sounds fine, but gains plenty of energy during the lengthy kung fu battles and Candy’s funky title tune. As for special features, the big one here is an audio commentary from Frank Djeng who provides tons of material beginning with the documentary-styled opening, which attempts to “legitimize this film”, how the filmmakers “based their assumption” on the unfinished GAME OF DEATH through still photos, the film’s memorable theme song and it’s very interesting genesis which involves future Hollywood actor Rebecca De Mornay (!), the film’s “mafia gangster plot” which was taken from Bruce Lee’s THE WAY OF THE DRAGON (1972), Terry Levene’s “interesting ways to promote some of his films”, background info on many of the Taiwan actors who are “not very well archived”, and plenty of additional facts about Bruce Li. At the 56-minute mark, Mr. Djeng is joined by These Fists Break Bricks co-author Chris Poggiali who goes into even more detail about Terry Levene and his company Aquarius Releasing, and how said film was “just kinda winging it” with “ideas stretched beyond the technical proficiencies of the filmmakers.” This is another strong commentary, and the two men make a solid pairing. 

 

Additional extras include several deleted scenes (11m46s), which includes the aforementioned “film-within-a-film” aspect lost in the U.S. theatrical cut, and The Last Kung Fu Picture Show (12m28s) hosted by Worth and Djeng who reminiscence about seeing many of these films on the big screen in San Francisco and Los Angeles, where they not only gained “respect for the theater experience” but inspiration and motivation for their own subsequent careers. Michael Worth pops up again in Severin’s Kung Fu Theater (2m08s) where he briefly comments on the various GAME OF DEATH mockups and how audiences missed the “creative bait and switch” plot point. The film’s radio spot (“He’s more than a memory to his millions of brothers of all colors!”, 1m04s) and lengthy trailer (4m07s) complete the extras for disc three. 

 

In what is positively the most insane and outright bizarro entry in the entire Bruceploitation realm, Lo Ke’s THE DRAGON LIVES AGAIN (1977) is a mind-boggling crowd pleaser unlike any other, and a perfect start to disc four. To at least try and establish what viewers are in for, a lengthy opening credits sequence has our Bruce Lee lookalike (this time played by Bruce Liang [a.k.a. Leung Siu-Lung] or Bruce Leong, as he is credited here) squares off against a variety of popular cinematic characters including James Bond (Alexander Grand) and The Godfather (Shin Il Lung) as Frankie Chan’s lively cut-and-paste soundtrack plays havoc with your eardrums. Following his death, Bruce ends up in the Underworld where he must fight the Godfather’s many associates including James Bond, The Man with No Name (Bobby Canavarro, complete with poncho and cigarillo), Zatoichi (Mei Wong), Dracula (Hsi Chang), and even Emmanuelle (Jenny), all of whom are in cahoots to try and overthrow the King of the Underworld (Tong Ching). With the help of Popeye (Eric Tsang), The One-Armed Swordsman (Lik Cheung), and other underworld underlings, Bruce launches an all-out assault on this treasure trove of film celebrities, but the King has other plans as well…

 

Essentially a fusion of kung fu with over-the-top retarded slapschtick, THE DRAGON LIVES AGAIN is more ludicrous than anything ever seen in another Bruceploitation flick. In this zany clash of pop culture references, Bruce Leong is well up to the demands of his role and runs a virtual damn marathon during the course of the picture, moving through a relentless melody of kinetic comedy set-pieces including a protracted – and very entertaining – slugfest with Zatoichi (who demonstrates a kung fu style called the “Blind Dog Pisses[!]”), and a later run-in with Dracula (who doesn’t seem to be affected by sunlight one iota) and his cadre of skeleton men. Amid this machinegun barrage of stupidity, Bruce is first seen in the Underworld laid out on a slab with a bedsheet covering his posthumous erection, a subject the film continues to play on with further phallic outbursts and double-entendres (“Beat me hard with that terrible weapon!” Exclaims one of the King’s concubines), which reaches its zenith when Emanuelle refers to herself as “such a silly little pussy.” Surprisingly, most of the actresses doff their semi-formal dragon-robes during plentiful T&A (which also includes a lengthy group bath with the King’s concubines where they discuss Bruce’s endowment, and later cocktease the King), while Emanuelle attempts to kill the King the only way she knows how (“If he goes on, he’ll have a heart attack!”) in a scene which was edited out of most prints. Needless to say, this highly-energetic and irresistibly daft confection has the arguable distinction of being one of the craziest Bruceploitation films ever made.

 

A victim of shoddy VHS tapes and even shoddier DVDs from bootleg specialists like Videoasia, THE DRAGON LIVES AGAIN also received an extremely limited edition BD-R from Gold Ninja Video a few years back, which featured the same ho-hum fullscreen print, but more importantly, the disc also included an enjoyable audio commentary from The Important Cinema Club’s Justin Decloux and Will Sloan, a beginner’s guide to Bruceploitation, an 80-minute reel of Bruceploitation trailers, and Matthew Mallinson’s FIST OF FEAR TOUCH OF DEATH (1980) as a bonus feature. Scanned in 2K from AGFA’s suitably battered, but no less watchable 35mm print, this widely-held bargain bin favourite finally looks really good, despite all the debris, emulsion scratches, and some occasional fading. Given the source material, the DTS-HD 2.0 English mono audio has some intermittent cracks and other artifacts, but nothing too distracting at all. Michael Worth and Frank Djeng return for another audio commentary wherein they shed light on a number of interesting facets beginning with the origin of Bruce Lee’s “three legs” nickname, which is used for a very different effect in said film, the film’s many bits of “clever humour”, it’s many phallic references, the limited sets and single outdoor location, some of the different fighting techniques Bruce Leong uses in the film and his impressive use of nunchakus, details on most of the film’s cast and crew, the protracted sex scene, the film’s many references to Bruce Lee’s pictures which many viewers may miss, it’s interesting parallels to Victor Fleming’s THE WIZARD OF OZ (1939), and of course, the film’s many pop culture characters. Although labeled as an audio essay, “Cult Cinema Critic” Lovely Jon provides another audio commentary (40m51s), where he considers himself “a complete and utter kung fu film freak fanatic” and “an old schooler who looks at the film differently.” At first, he reminisces about the early days of the UK video rental scene and the “makeshift back rooms at the news agents”, which stood for video stores, his first time renting the film, which remains (via a post millennial label) “the all-time most lunatic, demented, fucking out-there entry in the whole Bruceploitation universe.” He goes on to discuss the film’s production history and its production company Goldig Films, the “micro-detailed proficiency” of Ming Ho’s photography, and its “crude array of library cues” and composer Frankie Chan. Lastly, he gives props to Bill Bennett, an “ahead of his time legend” who first discovered many of these obscurities in the pre-internet days. It’s another excellent listen full of great facts and analysis. 

 

Other additional special features include a nice selection of deleted scenes (6m53s) taken from a French 35mm print, which helps “fill in a few of the gaps” to help explain why Bruce died, and why he was sent to the Underworld in the first place. Another installment of Severin’s Kung Fu Theater (2m02s) is included where Michael Worth talks about the “over-the-top premise” and how some of the martial arts sequences are as “original as the story.” The film’s U.S. theatrical trailer (“Bruce challenges the evil forces of the Underworld!”, 1m37s) from Cineworld Pictures concludes the special features. 

 

Although Bruce Li is the star of Dao Lo Pao’s (a.k.a. To Man-Bo) BRUCE AND THE IRON FINGER (1979), the second feature on disc four, Bruce Liang also figures prominently in this action-filled kung fu film, which has all the convolutions and complications of a murder mystery. Detective Bruce Chen (Li) is about to take a much-needed vacation even as his superior reveals that the city has “less robberies, but an increase in murders”, but when nightclub entertainer and kung fu expert Wang Kai (Yukio Someno) is found dead by a type of kung fu better known as the “iron finger technique”, Chen takes it upon himself to solve the murder. Infiltrating various martial arts schools, his investigation eventually leads him to Hu Pao (Ku Feng) and Ling Sao Lung (Leung Siu-Lung / a.k.a. Bruce Liang), both of whom practice the dreaded iron finger technique…

 

In the interests of furthering his investigation, Li launches unyielding determination as the utterly inexhaustible detective Chen, who fights first and asks questions later. Boasting some absolutely terrific martial arts choreography thanks to Leung Siu-Lung and his brother Leung Siu-Hung, which includes an extraordinary, no-holds barred fight between Li and Liang (“I’ll give you one more chance or I’ll take you in!” Exclaims Chen), the film allows most of the players to show off their considerable skills, which culminates with an epic dockside brawl with just about the entire cast. Liang comes off exceptionally well as Ling Sao, who often punctuates his appearances with smiles… or a punch, and adds plenty of ‘star’ presence, which also includes Shaw Brothers alumnus Ku Feng as the raving mad Hu Pao who has a deadly secret. As Hu Pao’s equally unstable, but favourite girl, Lulu (Lee Hoi Gei) who hams it up in nothing more than her underwear or see-thru negligee, is memorable in just about every scene she appears in, which includes a hilarious bout of S&M byplay (“Get on the floor and make like a horse. I’ll ride you!”) as Curtis Mayfield’s Pusherman rattles on the soundtrack. Judging by its threadbare sets and meagerly-costumed extras, BRUCE AND THE IRON FINGER was obviously shot on a lower-than-usual budget for this kind of film, and while the plot becomes too elaborate for its own good (the film even throws in some half-hearted sub-plots about a Vietnamese slave ring), it still makes for plenty of entertainment with Leung Siu-Lung’s fight choreography being the definite standout.

 

Released during the fading years of the VHS boom as BRUCE AGAINST THE IRON HAND via Xenon Entertainment’s 1999 videocassette, this heavily-cropped affair never gave the film a fair shake, but Severin Films’ new scan taken from a 35mm print “held by a private collector” is substantially better in every way. Although it still contains plenty of speckles in the form of dirt and debris, some occasional missing frames, and a bit of irreparable damage around the 43-minutes mark, detail is reasonably sharp for the most part and the film’s scope framing helps tremendously during many of the film’s high-energy fight scenes. The DTS-HD 2.0 English mono audio sounds fine enough, but viewers should expect a few jumps in the audio and some occasional inconsistencies. For the most part though, all of the post-dubbed dialogue and embellished sound effects are clear and hilariously effective. 

 

As for extras, Michael Worth returns for a solo audio commentary wherein he enthusiastically discusses the “awesome choreography”, director To Man-Bo’s early career as an actor who eventually transitioned to directing (Worth regards him as a producer’s director who “gets the film done”), the sexual oppression of men in the film, some of the real-life fighting styles which possibly inspired the “iron finger technique” used in the film, Bruce Li’s impressive fighting skills and the overall “well-done rhythms of the fights”, and plenty more besides. Martial artists John Kreng, Tatevik Hunanyan, Ron Strong, and Michael Worth return for My First Bruceploitation (10m38s), another roundtable discussion where each of them talk about seeing their first Bruceploitation film, and their inevitable disappointments at the time, some of the “less discriminating” audience members, and their favourite Bruce Lee clones, which to a large extent seems to be Bruce Li. Worth also returns for another installment of Severin’s Kung Fu Theater (1m38s) in which he cites how Bruce Li “tried to pave a path for himself as an original action actor” and his prolific output in 1979. The film’s U.S. theatrical trailer narrated by Adolph Caesar (“Bruce Li is back in his most exciting role!”, 1m40s) and the film’s original Hong Kong trailer (4m04s) wrap things up rather nicely on disc four. 

 

Moving on to disc five, Dick Randall returns with CHALLENGE OF THE TIGER (1980), his companion film to THE CLONES OF BRUCE LEE, which again features Bruce Le in the title role, and who also assumes the director’s chair for the occasion. When a couple of scientists develop a new formula that sterilizes men (!), they are immediately killed by a pair of assassins, and this “priceless formula” becomes the primary objective of the CIA who put their best men on the case: Huang Lung (Bruce Le), a Chinese brought up in Europe, and his womanizing partner, Richard ‘Dick” Cannon (Richard Harrison). To clearly establish just what a lady-killer our lovable Dick is, he is first seen playing a game of tennis with a bevy of topless, jiggly women (all captured in slow-motion, to the sounds of Jon Stevens’ Montego Bay, no less!), which is soon followed by more nude swimming, sunbathing, and one particular woman’s fascination with a water-spouting statue! As a result of a tip-off, our over-confident agents arrive in Spain at a bullfighting ring where Huang, attempting to seize the elusive formula, ends up in the ring where he must square off with the angry longhorn! Meanwhile, the eager Dick seduces Maria (Nadiuska) and gets to nuzzle her photogenic bosoms in a bubbly hot tub, all in the hopes of obtaining the formula. But when this turns out to be a ruse, our pair of secret agents are sent to Hong Kong where they must fight other goons in the employ of the terrorist boss (Tito Garcia) and Vietcong communists led by Comrade Yang (Hwang Jeong-Lee)… 

 

The basic ridiculousness of the present scenario is apparent right from the get-go, and it’s inevitable you’ll laugh spasmodically at a few of the preposterous sequences, which are made extra watchable with the inclusion of veteran Euro players Harrison and Brad Harris (here credited as Bradford Harris) as a grinning sadist muscleboy, who even gets to fight Yang Sze (a.k.a. Bolo Yeung) in an all too brief sequence. The extremely prolific Tao Chiang also appears as a smiley-faced killer, who also partakes in an exhilarating mano-a-mano battle with Hwang Jeong-Lee. And for you Jess Franco fanatics, keep your eyes peeled for a small but revealing role for Alicia Principe, future star of THE NIGHT HAS A THOUSANDDESIRES (1984) and THE SEXUAL STORY OF O (1984). Throughout the film, our quirkily charismatic agents frequently suspect that every person they meet along the way just might be a mob assassin or double-agent… which often actually proves to be the case and results in a sloppy slugfest or shootout. Although messily plotted, Bruce Le packs his globetrotting film with every exploitation draw he can muster, and when all is said and done you can’t find too much fault with a movie that includes topless women playing tennis!

 

First issued on U.S. home video in the ’80s as GYMKATA KILLER via All American Video, CHALLENGE OF THE TIGER eventually landed on DVD in 2005 thanks to Mondo Macabro, who released it as part of a lunatic double feature with Eddie Nicart’s FOR YOUR HEIGHT ONLY (1981). Although MM’s 20-year old DVD still looks really good, Severin’s new 4K scan taken from the original camera negative is definitely superior with well-defined detail and vibrant colours, save for a few odd horizontal scratches, which may be an in-camera or feeding issue at the time of the film’s production. In view of the excellent source material, the DTS-HD 2.0 English mono audio is in good shape without any discernible issues to speak of, other than the usual cacophony of dubbed-in sound effects. In terms of special features, Michael Worth returns for another engaging audio commentary and is this time joined by writer, filmmaker, and film historian C. Courtney Joyner, both of whom have plenty to discuss about this “bizarre movie” beginning with Dick Randall (“He was quite a character!”) and how the film was financed, his “checkered background”, the international co-productions which became more prevalent in the latter years of the genre, all of the actors in the films with lots of info on ex-peplum stars Harrison and Harris, some of the film’s “plot issues”, many of the film’s more outrageous scenes including the bullfighting showdown, the film’s sexuality, the lack of permits used throughout the production, and the “many advantages of shooting low-budget movies.” For this installment of Severin’s Kung Fu Theater (1m27s), Worth applauds Bruce Le’s no-holds barred direction for not being “afraid to wink at the camera or even flash at the camera” and the film’s “odd cameos.” Lastly, the film’s original theatrical trailer (3m52s) finishes off the special features, which promises, “A cast of international stars in an arena of death and destruction that spans three continents!” That’s some pretty accurate ballyhoo! 

 

Alfonso Beni’s CAMEROON CONNECTION (1984), the second feature on disc five, might more technically be described as a crime film, but it contains enough Bruce Le action to warrant its inclusion here. A co-production between France and Cameroon, Beni was a bit of a renaissance man who began his career in France during the ’70s appearing in various low-budget – and mostly erotic – films like Pierre Chevalier’s Eurocine funded LADIES HOUSE OF PLEASURE (1974). Coaxed to return to Cameroon by his mentor-of-sorts, the prolific DP Roger Fellous (best known for his work on France’s first X-rated film PUSSY TALK [1975]), Beni embarked on a long career in his home country, of which CAMEROON CONNECTION is probably his most recognized work. When singer Lise Bella (France Lise) is found murdered, Inspector Baïko (Alfonse Beni) is assigned to the case, only to realize that Bella actually has a twin sister who is mixed-up with the local sex trade circuit. His investigation eventually takes him to Paris, where, by chance, he meets Bruce (Bruce Le) after getting into a scuffle at an African-themed nightclub (“There are racists everywhere! Even in African nightclubs!” Declares Bruce). It just so happens that Bruce also has business interests in Cameroon, so when Baïko begins to unravel a drug operation back home, Bruce decides to help his fellow ‘brother’ out…

 

Upon his return to Cameroon, Alfonse Beni became a minor action ‘superstar’ following the success of said film, a low-budget throwback to the Eurocrime action pictures of the ’70s. Beni’s central Baïko character is an appropriately tough cop (“I do like danger and work!”) who likes to do things his own way, but given the film’s main impetus, much of it is tastefully restrained, even as it adds calculated allusions about political corruption, which is usually resolved with far too much ease and too little suspense. Although indifferently directed and edited, the narrative appears disjointed to say the least as numerous subplots are briefly alighted upon, only to have Beni suddenly whisk us away to another situation. Scenery jumps from Douala to Paris to Yaoundé, and back to Douala, meaning tons of mandatory travelogue footage hyping each new location, which lends considerable authenticity to such action genre staples as a pseudo-kung fu punchup (the Cameroonian actors stand out like sore thumbs trying to keep up with Bruce Le’s lightning-fast fists) at a warehouse and a lengthy car / motorbike pursuit throughout the city of Yaoundé. Invigorated by Roger Fellous’ slick and glossy photography, CAMEROON CONNECTION is unusual enough structurally and compelling enough at the same time to warrant a look-see by devotees of both Bruceploitation and Eurocrime genres. 

 

Sporting a beautiful 4K scan taken from the original camera negative, CAMEROON CONNECTION looks quite flawless with most of the outdoor scenes looking magnificent, which is especially impressive given the film’s low-budget origins. Shot in French, the DTS-HD 2.0 French mono audio (with English subtitles) also sounds particularly good, with most of Daniel J. White’s re-cycled cues from Jess Franco films and the Eurociné vaults sounding nice and clean; White’s scores for Jess Franco’s BARBED WIRE DOLLS (1975) and Eurociné’s aqua-snoozer ZOMBIE LAKE (1980) get solid workouts herein. Severin Films commissioned another audio commentary for this rarely-seen film, this time from Criterion Reflections’ David Blakeslee who freely admits at the start that “some of the dots don’t always connect so well as far as the plot is concerned.” He goes on to talk about Alfonse Beni’s unique career, the film’s locations and the “Cameroonian working class”, Bruce Le’s involvement in the project, the film’s many product placements, and some of the “ham-handed and clunky performances.” 

 

In Lights… Cameroon… Action! (48m18s), Beni’s assistant and friend Jean Roke Patoudem and B-movie specialist Richard Tribouilloy offer a remembrance of sorts to this “mysterious and fascinating man” who discuss his unusual career with great detail and affection. From his early start in Paris appearing in softcore films to his work in Cameroon, and later in Hong Kong, Beni was Cameroon’s “first independent filmmaker” whose passion for cinema was unending right up until his death in March of 2023. Next up, Beni appears at a Q&A session (shot in 2022) at the Cine Club N’Kah (11m05s) and reveals that CAMEROON CONNECTION was the “first film shot in Cinemascope 35mm in Cameroon”, the difficulties of shooting sync sound, the film’s worldwide distribution, and how he got Bruce Le to appear in the film. Last but not least, Michael Worth returns for another segment of Severin’s Kung Fu Theater (1m08s) where he talks about this film being the most unique co-production in Bruce Le’s entire career and its “different textures” when compared to Bruce’s other films, and its lengthy chase sequence. 

For our third part of this review, visit here.