Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Enter The Dragon
Bruce Lee's final complete film, released six days after his death in 1973, is a puzzling affair. Iconic in many ways, it is almost completely responsible for the James Dean-esque degree of posthumous worship directed at Lee, and yet in many ways it is simply a straight forward action thriller, with only the added bonus of a handful of martial arts scenes. A sequence of stories about Lee's behaviour on set, and a myriad of conspiracy theories around his death, add weight to a plot that is a little more lightweight than you might expect.
Watching it today, its hard to escape how similar in feel it is to many '70s action films. In particular it owes a great debt to the Bond series, as the story meanders along the lines of an evil criminal overlord, who even comes equipped with a pair of Dr No-like steel hands (usefully exchanged for claws at one point) living on an island training an evil army for no particular reason, and the spy sent in to stop him.
Another touchstone I rather suspect is 1971's Shaft, a film which I have not seen but the influence of which I can still recognise. This includes a considerably greater level of violence than the Bond films, as well as a soundtrack that repeatedly strays into soul-funk territory. There is some attempt at social commentary which doesn't really come off (the bizarre sequence in which a slave trade ring is exposed is truly odd, and it boggles the mind to consider how emaciated drunks could overpower a trained army, but hey) and the supporting cast is an uneasy mix of American C-listers and under-used local talent.
As is to be expected, the main reason to watch the film is Lee, whose electrifying performance and lightning-fast, violent fight choreography has to be seen to be believed. There is no over-reliance on extended, escalating 'mano-a-mano' action (there is one example of this, seemingly later stolen for use in The Man With The Golden Gun), and Lee's hero is pleasingly reserved in his use of one-liners. The mask of Shaolin monk quickly slips, and the combination of his crazy eyes and trademark high-pitched yelps is frequently terrifying.
Not a great film then, but a good piece of entertainment held together by a singularly powerful and peculiar central performance, which was tragically the last of one of the twentieth century's greatest lost icons.
3/5
Watching it today, its hard to escape how similar in feel it is to many '70s action films. In particular it owes a great debt to the Bond series, as the story meanders along the lines of an evil criminal overlord, who even comes equipped with a pair of Dr No-like steel hands (usefully exchanged for claws at one point) living on an island training an evil army for no particular reason, and the spy sent in to stop him.
Another touchstone I rather suspect is 1971's Shaft, a film which I have not seen but the influence of which I can still recognise. This includes a considerably greater level of violence than the Bond films, as well as a soundtrack that repeatedly strays into soul-funk territory. There is some attempt at social commentary which doesn't really come off (the bizarre sequence in which a slave trade ring is exposed is truly odd, and it boggles the mind to consider how emaciated drunks could overpower a trained army, but hey) and the supporting cast is an uneasy mix of American C-listers and under-used local talent.
As is to be expected, the main reason to watch the film is Lee, whose electrifying performance and lightning-fast, violent fight choreography has to be seen to be believed. There is no over-reliance on extended, escalating 'mano-a-mano' action (there is one example of this, seemingly later stolen for use in The Man With The Golden Gun), and Lee's hero is pleasingly reserved in his use of one-liners. The mask of Shaolin monk quickly slips, and the combination of his crazy eyes and trademark high-pitched yelps is frequently terrifying.
Not a great film then, but a good piece of entertainment held together by a singularly powerful and peculiar central performance, which was tragically the last of one of the twentieth century's greatest lost icons.
3/5
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment