More than 30 years after his death, the ‘Little Dragon’ has never been more popular - but isn’t it time we left his memory alone?
Growing up in the seventies it was impossible to miss just how cool Bruce Lee was. His image was everywhere - posters, magazines, t-shirts, alongside Al Pacino as Serpico on Tony Manero’s wall in Saturday Night Fever. (How did I see it at six? Older readers may remember the edited, no fun ‘A’ version.) All pretty important stuff for an impressionable six-year old. I even enjoyed the Kung Fu TV series, long before I knew he’d been involved in creating it. In fact the only place I didn’t see him was in his own movies - this being before the advent of video, at least affordably, and well after his films had been on at the cinema (though I would have been too young anyway).
I remember pestering my folks for a poster magazine of him, my enthusiasm for martial arts and Asian culture had already been cast, and there he was - his face typically snarled, three scars on his cheek as given to him by the evil Han (Shek Kin) during Enter The Dragon.
When I finally got to see him at the video store, my admiration somewhat cooled.
Okay, so Enter the Dragon, my first introduction, was great (at least for a ten-year old). This American lead production did everything a great 70s action movies should: Get everyone together, team them up, kill-off a lead or two. A real Bond on a budget, executive producer Fred Weintraub managed to mix in cult martial arts and blaxpoltation elements too. Though film might have been invaluable to the Hong Kong film industry, it didn’t always show off Bruce Lee’s real flair except in the major action scenes (when director Robert Clouse made the smart move leaving him too it). Alongside Lee’s undeniable screen domination, Shek Kin as Han, a man who’d made his name as bad guys in Hong Kong films, making an impression as the greatest Bond villain that never was (surely he could have actually played Dr. No?
But then came my next attempt at the video shop. A badly dubbed, pan and scan copy of The Big Boss In fact, I think it might have even been known under its confusing American title Fists of Fury. Not the best way to see it. Then there were all the pitiful cash-ins, all with the tenuous use of Dragon in the title. (Though even I realised that there was little chance of seeing Lee in The Black Dragon.)
By the time I got to see Bruce Lee’s trilogy of Golden Harvest productions properly, it was too late. I’d fallen in love with the 80s so-called ‘new wave’ of filmmakers like Ringo Lam, Tsui Hark and John Woo. And later, the much overlooked King Hu, surely one of the most intelligent and beautiful directors to come out of Hong Kong. I wondered why people had stopped making films like that…
It wasn’t that Lee’s film weren’t good, far from it - it was the first time such martial arts excellence had been seen on screen. Particularly in the first and only completed film he directed in which he co-starred with Chuck Norris in a duel that was both well filmed (with location photography around the Colosseum, Rome) and darkly comic, as Lee grabs hair from Norris’s fluffly Western chest. Oh, that’s WAY Of The Dragon for fans of The Office.
But suddenly the 70s seemed like a wasteland between the glorious 60s and the golden age of the 80s. Not that it was Bruce Lee’s fault by any means, but his immeasurable success made imitators of his peers, all trying to repeat his achievement. All taking Zhang Che’s basic template of masculine dominated stories, his self-styled ‘yanggang’, and dominating the cinema with hardly a decent role for women to be had. (A complete opposite to the situation in the mid 60s, when female actors had been the crowd pullers.) And, when Bruce Lee died, all were looking for the successor to his crown.
Which never really happened.
Jackie Chan didn’t do it. Jet Li didn’t do it. And Tony Jaa, well, only time will tell…
Part of Lee’s dominance over martial arts to come can be attributed to his tragic death. On the eve of the release of Enter The Dragon, and what would have been his international (most importantly, Stateside) success. Like James Dean, River Phoenix, Jim Morrison and nearly every other notable rock musician of the late 60s, and, of course, Jesus Christ, Lee is eulogised by friends, family and fans who lament what could have been - often with a passion only matched by the latter’s supporters.
It all seems somewhat over blown for such a small body of work.
Mind you, isn’t it strange that Lee’s childhood and teenage career as an actor in Hong Kong cinema seems to have been all but erased from history (and the motion picture Dragon: The Bruce Lee Story? Just because it doesn’t fit with the image of our diligent martial arts disciple? It was, however, as much a factor on his career and aspirations as his martial arts creation, Jeet Kune Do.
When he finished Enter The Dragon he returned to the film he’d left behind, what would have been his second as director, Game Of Death. Using his experience on Dragon, he began to draw up plans to change direction of the existing material towards more of an American audience, arranging a meeting with one-time George Lazenby on the evening of his death.
Despite his incredible success in Hong Kong, he was born in America. It’s obvious that it he always saw it as home, where he wanted to return triumphant (particularly after the prejudice he faced in Hollywood). Who knows what would have happened next? But then that’s the point, who knows?
There’s a mountain of documentaries on the ‘Little Dragon’, hundreds still waiting to be interviewed, all with their own insight. For every informative documentary, another 10 are shameless cash-ins. For every revealing interview, another 20 have nothing we haven’t heard a hundred times before. The level of material is seems unwarranted and often rather offending to his memory.
And you know what, I’d rather praise Jackie Chan. Not just because he is a better actor and has a better understanding of how to use the camera, but because he’s also produced some of the best Hong Kong art house movies ever - particularly Stanley Kwan’s Rouge and Actress. Jackie Chan! Art house! Fancy that?
Or Jet Li, a gold medal winning martial arts champion who could probably beat Lee in hand-to-hand combat, and at least has been around long enough to get a chance to act (though only rarely!)
And what about all theories and conspiracies that surround his sudden death aged 32. A triad hit job? Drug abuse? The equally tragic death of his son Brandon Lee certainly adds flames to the fire. He died at the same age, working on the film that would catapult him into mainstream success (The Crow) in an accident that echoed the plotline of the first ten minutes of Game Of Death. (The bit that Robert Clouse finished.) Such coincidences would make the X Files Scully shudder, but perhaps that’s all they are after all. Perhaps the simplest explanation is true. Perhaps Lee did just die of an epilepsy condition?
Though we should never forget his importance, in films and tributes, trying to relive every moment seems desperate and unhealthy. Not so long ago plans were revealed to breathe new life into Lee using CGI. (It was even claimed his family had given their permission for it.) Thankfully the project never came to fruition, but isn’t it time we just left his memory alone? Let’s enjoy what he left us - The Big Boss, Fist Of Fury, Enter The Dragon and Way Of The Dragon - and move on.
Have I gone too far this time? Share your opinion on Bruce Lee…
