Starring: Bruce Lee, John Saxon, Jim Kelly, Shek Kin,
Ahna Capri, Bolo Yeung Sze, Bob Wall, Angela Mao Ying, Geoffrey Weeks, Roy
Chiao
Director: Robert Clouse
Action Director: Bruce Lee[1]
A book
of annals about martial arts films coming out of the Western World would do
well to start at Enter the Dragon.
That said, let us be clear that it is not
the earliest example of martial arts coming out of Hollywood (or its English,
French or Italian equivalents). After all, if we understand “martial arts” to
mean the “art of combat,” than any film that focuses on fencing and swordplay,
whether it be in an Errol Flynn swashbuckler or an Italian peplum mini-epic, counts as a martial arts film just as much as any
Chinese historical battle film whose action director has a kung fu background.
In other words, The Adventures of Robin
Hood; Ivanhoe; and Scaramouche are just as much martial
arts films as Red Cliff or The Empress and the Warrior are.
So where does all this leave Enter the Dragon? Well, we can say that it was Hollywood’s first attempt to ape the kung fu movies being made in Hong Kong and Taiwan. The first half of 1973 had seen the domestic release of The Big Boss (as Fists of Fury); King Boxer (as Five Fingers of Death); and Lady Whirlwind (as Deep Thrust) to high box office returns. Much like how that year’s Cleopatra Jones was an effort by a big studio—Warner Brothers--to cash in on the popularity of low-budget blaxploitation films, Enter the Dragon was an example of Warner Brothers and Hollywood as a whole doing the Chinese were doing, but on a Hollywood budget.
We open at the Shaolin Temple, where two fighters (Bruce Lee and a 21-year-old Sammo Hung) are fighting before the other monks and the abbot (A Touch of Zen’s Roy Chiao). Lee (played by Bruce) comes out victor. After a discussion with the Abbot about the philosophy of martial arts and combat, Lee is approached by a British agent named Braithwaite (Geoffrey Weeks). Braithwaite requests that Lee accept an invitation to a martial arts tournament hosted by a former Shaolin monk named Han (who’ll be played Shek Kin, a veteran of dozens of Wong Fei-Hung films during the 50s and 60s). The governments of the West know that Han’s tournament is a front for his heroin production and distribution, in addition to white slavery options, and think that Lee is the best person to get them their evidence and bust Han. We later learn that Lee’s sister (Angela Mao, whom Western audiences at the time might’ve recognized from Deep Thrust) committed suicide three years earlier when Han’s men tried to rape her. So he has a handful reasons to accept the job.
Joining Lee for the tournament are Roper (John Saxon, of Tenebrae and Cannibal Apocalypse) and Williams (Jim Kelly, who’d later show up in Black Samurai and Black Belt Jones), a pair of karate-kicking buddies from ‘Nam. Roper is a compulsive gambler who’s now at the top of several loan sharks’ hit lists, while Williams is an African-American gentleman who’s been getting hasseled by the police on account of his being a nice black gentleman. When the three arrive on the island, Roper takes to his usual habits of betting while he and Williams enjoy the seemingly endless supply of booty on the island. Lee, on the other hand, finds the undercover agent stationed on the island, Mei Ling (singer Betty Chung, who also showed up in All Men Are Brothers). As the tournament progresses, Williams runs afoul of Mr. Han, Roper is invited to join the latter’s activities, and Lee finds the necessary evidence. And of course, butts are kicked, necks are snapped, skulls are cracked, and general martial arts mayhem ensues.
To those of us who grew up watching American martial arts films during the 80s and 90s, it would be only appropriate that the first American kung fu movie be centered around a martial arts tournament. From Bloodsport to The Quest and beyond, the martial arts is a time-honored trope in the genre. Even today, we still have films that revolve around mixed martial arts (MMA) matches like the Undisputed and Never Back Down series. But unlike those films, the tournament in Enter the Dragon is just as much a front for a James Bondian adventure as it is for Han’s drug refining. As a result, the tournament never feels like it follows a specific logic, what with elimination rounds and quarter- or semi-finals. People fight each other, after which we forget about it in favor of Bruce Lee discovering an underground drug laboratory run by a traditional Oriental supervillain. And there’s a bit of sex, although I suppose that this being one of the earlier examples of Hollywood giving top billing to an Asian man—as opposed to Charlie Chan, in which the Asian hero is played by a Caucasian actor—I guess asking him to get the 007 sex scenes would have been too much to ask. But then again, he got to share a bed with Malalin Bonnak and kiss Nora Miao, both of whom are leagues ahead of the girls in this one, including Ahna Capri. So the joke’s on Warner Brothers.
So while Bruce Lee does not get to sleep with Betty Chung or Ahna Capri, he does get to kick the collective butt of several dozen people. Director Robert Clouse let Bruce Lee choreograph his own fights, probably because he had more experience doing that on both sides of the Pacific than future-choreographer Pat Johnson did at that point. The fights in general are quite good, although Hollywood cameraman as early as 1973 do not know when to pull the camera back. Some of those medium shots really hurt the fighting, which is Bruce Lee doing his traditional jeet kune do thing. The highlight of it all is the infamous laboratory fight, where Bruce Lee beats up Han’s men, first with his fists, then with a pole, followed by Filipino escrima sticks, and finally with his infamous nunchaku. I find it amusing just how much the nunchaku scenes are played up for this film, when all he does is his usual exhibition followed by his cracking only three heads with it.
The finale is broken into three parts. It begins with John Saxon fighting against Bolo Yeung, which is easily the most unrealistic and unconvincing throwdown in the entire film. There’s nothing that would convince that Saxon could not only beat bodybuilder and all-around frightening guy Bolo Yeung in personal combat, but do so with a few Mississippi Haymakers. Following that waste of Bolo’s talents—neither his first, nor his last—Saxon and Lee take on Han’s karate students. This quickly turns into an all-out brawl, leaving Lee to focus on Han. In one gimmick, Han is missing a hand, which he can replace with a sculpted metal fist, or a cat’s claw, or a quartet of Wolverine-esque blades. That said, Lee lets Han’s gimmick speak louder than Shek Kin’s actual martial arts skills, which get little showcase here. If you want to see Shek Kin at his best, check out The Roaring Lion (1972) with Cliff Lok. The finale to that film is simply killer. Back to the film, those two eventually find themselves in a hall of mirrors, which (heh) mirrors a similar scene in The Devil of the Desert Against the Son of Hercules. Bruce is his usual reliable self here, but the gimmicks ultimately scream louder than Lee himself does.
Enter the Dragon ended up becoming the 13th highest-grossing film in the United States in 1973 and was Bruce Lee’s highest-grossing film internationally. It guaranteed that the martial arts film would continue to be a part of American filmmaking, despite its ups and downs over the years. It is one of the most beloved martial arts films by mainstream film critics, internet movie critics, and makes regular appearances on “Best [or Top] Kung Fu Films” lists all over the internet. In short, it has become one the most iconic films of the genre of all time. So much so, in fact, that many martial arts fans question whether it deserves as much attention as it has gotten.
That’s a difficult question to answer for a number of reasons. More than a thousand films were produced in Hong Kong, Taiwan and South Korea during the old school period from 1966 to 1985. And then you have the modern action films starring the likes of Jackie Chan and Sammo Hung, the 1990s wire-fu movies, all of the big-budget movies made in the wake of Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon; and then you have hundreds of American movies starring the likes of Chuck Norris, Jean-Claude Van Damme, Steven Seagal, Don “the Dragon” Wilson, Cynthia Rothrock and dozens of others; plus martial arts films produced in Japan, Thailand, Vietnam, Indonesia, and hell, we can include Bollywood while we are at it. Are we to believe that Enter the Dragon stands head and shoulders over 99% of all the rest?
Well, let’s analyze the film by its individual componentes. Is it the best-acted martial arts film? Not by a long shot. Your average Shaw Brothers film had better acting and better plotting, not to mention better directing, than Enter the Dragon. Does it feature the best fighting of any martial arts film? Not really. Bruce Lee was not particularly adept at choreographing anybody but himself. And I think Way of the Dragon and the suriving footage of Game of Death are more impressive than this when it comes to showing off Lee’s skills. But there are lot of other films with more complex fighting, more brutal fighting, flashier fighting and all-around better fighting. Does it have the best production values for a martial arts film? Not really, considering the high price tags that Jackie Chan films had once he became a huge star. So where does the lasting appeal come from?
A lot of it comes from historical context. First of all, Americans had seen precious few (compared to what existed) martial arts films by the second half of 1973, so for them to see one with good production values, solid acting, and entertaining fight scenes must’ve been special. It was easily the most accessible kung fu film starring an Asian actor for Western audiences for many years, as it was bereft of both dubbing and the aesthetics common to these films that Western viewers, obsessed with realism (or the illusion thereof), gripe about or laugh at. And while we hardcore martial arts fans have limited patience for gimmick-oriented fights, the hall of mirrors sequence is nonetheless a compelling visual to behold.
On the same token, having watched a number of films produced in 1973, like Fist of Unicorn and Spirits of Bruce Lee, it’s clear that the action on display was several steps ahead of what most choreographers were doing at that time. Most of the films being produced that year were low-budget bashers with endless fight scenes filled with flailing arms and low, weak kicks. The fights in Enter the Dragon easily surpass the likes of Cub Tiger from Kwangtung and The Two Cavaliers in terms of speed, power, snap and intensity. American audiences who had enjoyed the fights in Five Fingers of Death and Lady Whirlwind must have been completely awestruck by Bruce Lee’s poise, balance, flexibility and emotional intensity. In fact, the only action director at the time who seemed to be “getting it” besides Bruce himself was Sammo Hung. Sammo did the action direction for When Tae Kwon Do Strikes, which ranks up there with Enter the Dragon as having the best action for 1973. Sometimes a film gets it right on many levels next to its immediate contemporaries that it’s destined for classic status, no matter how many films surpass it in ensuing years. This is one such film.[1] - According to the IMDB, Sammo Hung
and Lam Ching-Ying served as assistant action directors, albeit uncredited.
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