“Iron Angels” Japanese Poster

Director: Teresa Woo San
Cast: Saijo Hideki, Elaine Lui, Yukari Oshima, Alex Fong Chung Sun, David Chiang, Hwang Jang Lee, Peter Yang Kwan, Wang Hsieh, Lam Chung, Chiang Tao
Running Time: 93 min. 

By Z Ravas

I can’t say this period of history has many consolations for those of us living through it, but getting to experience obscure Hong Kong action films via terrific looking and sounding boutique Blu-ray releases is most assuredly one of them. The first time I saw Iron Angels, it was on a crappy Region 0 DVD that I ordered off of Ebay; I say ‘crappy’ mostly because the disc kept skipping during the final twenty minutes of the movie. (If you’ve seen Iron Angels, you know some of the film’s best action is crammed into the final twenty minutes. You don’t want to miss that part!). What a difference a few years make: now I have the privilege of watching Iron Angels with a pristine hi-definition transfer, courtesy of Vinegar Syndrome.

And if you’re unfamiliar with this series, it’s absolutely worth springing for Syndrome’s recent 3-film box set. The first film ranks up there alongside Royal Warriors and She Shoots Straight as one of the finest examples of that Hong Kong subgenre fondly remembered as Girls with Guns. The movie has the brilliant idea to ask, ‘What if Charlie’s Angels were co-ed and Charlie was played by Shaw Brothers legend David Chiang?’ The story opens with a sequence that could mislead you into thinking you’re in for a military-themed actioner, as the Thai army unleashes machine guns and flamethrowers on a massive opium-harvesting operation in the Golden Triangle. Back in Hong Kong, a lead subordinate of the drug operation—played by Japanese martial artist Yukari Oshima—swears revenge and begins targeting various Interpol agents around the globe. With their backs to the wall, the Hong Kong police decide to enlist the help of the mercenary service known as the Angels.

And you really don’t need much more justification than that to string along 90 minutes of go-for-broke Hong Kong action, though the film has a capable cast to lean on. The Angels are led by Hideki Saijo, an actor primarily known for his singing career in Japan (he did a chart-topping cover of the “Y.M.C.A.”) but who comes across as a tough martial artist here; Moon Lee, a veritable icon in the Girls with Guns genre thanks to her appearances in films like Fatal Termination and Devil Hunters;  and Elaine Lui Siu-Ling, who would go on to co-star in fan favorite Hong Kong titles like The Bride with White Hair and The Red Wolf.

I have to single out Elaine Lui Siu-Ling in particular because at first you assume her role is kind of the party girl of the trio, you know, the gal with big hair who’s more into her wardrobe than taking the mission seriously—but about halfway through the film, her character makes a sharp pivot, diving into battle while strapped with grenades and bullet clips like a pint-sized Rambo. Elaine Lui totally sells you on the transition too, displaying a wealth of onscreen moxie. It’s one of the greatest examples of the Hidden Badass trope that I can recall seeing.

Director Teresa Woo Ann is immediately interesting as one of the only women filmmakers in the Hong Kong action space during this time. I should note that Raymond Leung and Ivan Lai are also sometimes listed as co-directors or Executive Directors on the film, but Woo would seem to be the driving creative force behind this project, having also served as producer and sole credited screenwriter. The action is attributed to the great Tony Leung Siu-Hung (Bloodmoon, Ip Man) and it’s undeniably spectacular stuff, despite the obviously thrifty budget, including a sequence where Hideki Saijo is hanging from a helicopter’s ladder as he fires his machine gun into a McMansion’s worth of bad guys. (As an example of the budgetary limitations: expect liberal use of stunt dummies for some scenes). The final clash between Moon Lee and Yukari Oshima is brief—in fact, I don’t think it’s much longer than a minute or so—but the two combatants go at each other with such ferocity that their bout has rightly become the stuff of legend.

There’s a short list of the top Hong Kong action movies of the 1980’s, the ones that a casual viewer can sample to get a feel for the genre and witness the industry operating at its peak; no doubt well-known titles like Righting Wrongs and In the Line of Duty IV would have to be on there, but I could imagine making a case for Iron Angels as well. While it’s not quite as technically polished as what filmmakers like John Woo and Yuen Woo-ping were producing at this time, when it’s firing on all cylinders, the movie delivers some of the most electrifying action of its decade.

Z Ravas’ Rating: 9/10

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“The Uninvited Guest of the Star Ferry” Theatrical Poster

Director: Kim Si-hyun
Cast: Im Ja-ho, Seo Jong-ah, Hwang Jang Lee, Heo Yang-mi, Yoon Yang-ha, Baek Hwang-ki, Park Hui-jin, Lee Suk-koo, Baek Hwang-ki, Choe Hyeong-geun
Running Time: 92 min.

By Paul Bramhall

When it comes to the niche world of Godfrey Ho’s infamous cut ‘n’ paste gweilo ninja movies, Ninja Terminator pretty much sits at the top of the pile. A cult oddity featuring Garfield phones, crab cookery gone wrong, and Richard Harrison with a heavy dose of eyeliner, when I first watched it in the early 2000’s the most that was known about the production the scenes had been spliced into was that it was a “low budget Korean kung-fu movie”. In the 20+ years since information on pre-21^st century Korean cinema has become much more accessible, and thanks to resources like the Korean Movie Database, by the time the 2010’s rolled around it became common knowledge (well, at least in kung-fu cinema fan circles!) that the movie in question was called The Uninvited Guest of the Star Ferry.

Released in 1984, like so many Korean productions from the 1980’s, tragically it seemed like the original had been lost to the sands of time (Trouble Solving Broker being a classic example). While we don’t usually talk about specific releases on cityonfire, this time it’s worth to make an exception, as without the release in question there would never have been an opportunity to check out The Uninvited Guest of the Star Ferry in the first place. Thanks to Neon Eagle’s 2024 limited edition Blu-ray of Ninja Terminator, not only did they stack the release with special features, but they also managed to track down a 16mm print of The Uninvited Guest of the Star Ferry, complete with its original Korean audio. While it’s included in the set as one of the extras, for fans of Korean cinema – particularly the taekwon-action genre – the fact that a title once resigned as lost is now suddenly available to be enjoyed feels like nothing short of a miracle.

Directed by Kim Si-hyun, since debuting in 1965 with the drama A Long Journey, he soon found his calling as an action movie maker. From the swordplay genre that was popular in the 1960’s with titles like A Bloody Fight at Suramoon and A Wondering Swordsman, through to the taekwon-action era of the 1970’s, where he frequently partnered with Dragon Lee for the likes of Golden Dragon, Sliver Snake and Enter the Invincible Hero. In fact I’d argue no other filmmaker has had their movies suffer at the hands of the IFD Films crew than Si-hyun, with him being at the helm of many of the cut ‘n’ paste efforts that used Korean movies as their base. Apart from Ninja Terminator using The Uninvited Guest of the Star Ferry, in 1986 Ninja Champion bastardizes Si-hyun’s 1985 rape revenge thriller Poisonous Rose Stripping the Night, while 1988’s War City 2: Red Heat Conspiracy used his penultimate movie Maze of Love.

In fairness by 1984 Si-hyun’s persistence in creating taekwon-action flicks was a little out of step with the times. Many consider 1982’s previously mentioned Trouble Solving Broker to be the end of the taekwon-action era, before the Korean film industry increasingly turned its focus to cranking out erotic cinema for much of the decade, thanks to the loosening of censorship over how much skin could be shown on screen. However Si-hyun stuck to his guns, and would continue to push Im Ja-ho as a new taekwon-action leading man, following his turn in Nam Gi-nam’s Leopard Fist Ninja from 1982. A formidable kicker, while Ja-ho can be seen in the background of many a 1970’s taekwon-action production, his late promotion to leading man unfortunately never saw him become as popular as his counterparts from the previous decade like Han Yong-cheol and Bobby Kim.

In The Uninvited Guest of the Star Ferry Ja-ho plays a private investigator who arrives in Hong Kong (hence the reference to the Star Ferry in the title), intent on getting to the bottom of a restauranteurs murder in Korea Town. Tensions have been running high between the locals and the Korean community because the “Koreans work harder”, but the truth behind the murder could be closer to home. Hired by the victim’s sister (played by Seo Jong-ah – The Last Witness, The Hut) to find those responsible, soon Ja-ho is unleashing his ferocious footwork, possibly falling for the sister he’s been hired by, and taking flak from the Korea Expat Association for poking his nose where it’s not wanted. As a plot its functional if far from inspiring, there mainly to allow Ja-ho to frequently get into scuffles with taekwon-action regulars like Baek Hwang-ki and Park Hui-jin (rocking a haircut which makes him look like a case of Casanova Wong-sploitation!).

Of course one of the most infamous elements of Ninja Terminator is the presence of legendary super kicker Hwang Jang Lee, decked out in a ridiculous blonde wig, fake rubber hand, and white suit that would make any 42^nd Street pimp proud. By the mid-80’s Jang Lee was no longer the omni-present villain that he was just a few years prior, with The Uninvited Guest of the Star Ferry being just one of 3 productions he’d feature in during 1984 (the other 2 being Demon Strike and Shaolin: The Blood Mission), compared to the 9 he featured in just a couple of years prior in 1982! One of the unexpected surprises of being able to watch the original is that there’s still no explanation as to why he’s wearing a blonde wig, although the fact that he’s named his lackey names like Duncan, Jackson, and Barbara somehow makes up for it.

The cuts between Hong Kong and Korea also provide a dose of unintentional amusement, with the HK footage mostly comprising of Ja-ho strolling down the unmistakable neon lit streets, before cutting back to the mountainous countryside of Korea where the main plot plays out (even though we’re still supposed to believe it’s HK). If Si-hyun’s geography is to be trusted, then apparently a Buddhist temple complex in the remote mountains is just a short stroll away from the busy streets of Kowloon. Thankfully the fights come thick and fast, and with contemporary set taekwon-action movies being a rarity in the genre, it’s a pleasure to watch Ja-ho unleash in a modern environment. The only part that requires a little adjustment is getting used to the way many of the fights play out to an upbeat soundtrack, one that sounds like it could be the opening to a daytime TV soap opera, offering up a slightly surreal feel to the violence onscreen.

The inoffensively pleasant soundtrack choice is at least offset by 1984 making The Uninvited Guest of the Star Ferry a latter entry in the genre, meaning that the choreography has developed in such a way that it’s noticeably more impactful than the early to mid-1970’s, when the genre was at its peak. Bodies go flying over cars in slow motion, somersaults result from kicks to the crotch, and of course, this is the only time that Im Ja-ho would face off against Hwang Jang Lee. Taking part in and around a port before segueing onto the beach, despite the 10 year age gap (with Ja-ho being younger) they both give as good as they get, with Si-hyun offering up a typically Korean detour into the absurd as Jang Lee’s leaping around sees him buried up to his waist in sand. In a career that’s seen the boot master beaten by everything from the sight of a woman’s breasts to cat kung-fu, death by accidentally burying yourself in sand is definitely up there.

Whilst far from being the best the genre has to offer, Si-hyeon still shows some occasional flourishes that reflect a filmmaker who cared about the final product. A sequence that sees Ja-ho sprinting to reach Seo Jong-ah before the bomb she’s been strapped to goes off is particularly effective, with the scene including a number of freeze frames to torturously extend the passing of time, while the sound of the bomb ticks away in the background. It’s a small touch, but it works well, instilling a sense of urgency into a genre where such feelings are usually reserved strictly for the fight scenes.

Throw in Kenny Loggins Footloose’, projectile dice, and ill-timed confessions of love, ultimately all of them come together to give The Uninvited Guest of the Star Ferry an odd charm that seems so unique to much of Korea’s output in the 1980’s. It may not be the perfect taekwon-action movie, but it should definitely scratch the itch for anyone seeking a dose of blonde wigged kicks to the face.

Paul Bramhall’s Rating: 6/10

The post Uninvited Guest of the Star Ferry, The (1984) Review first appeared on cityonfire.com.

“Secret Executioners” Theatrical Poster

Director: Lee Doo-Yong
Co-director: Godfrey Ho
Cast: Shin Woo-chul, Hwang Jang Lee, Jim Norris, Kwon Il-soo, Min Bok-gi, Park Dong-ryong
Running Time: 90 min.

By Paul Bramhall

It remains one of the greatest travesties in Korean cinema that director Lee Doo-yong’s The Trouble-Solving Broker is referenced in 99% of English language content as “another one of those Godfrey Ho cut and paste jobs.” The real tragedy is that it’s also true, with (as of the time of writing in 2024) no known surviving prints of Doo-yong’s original version in its native Korea, making the re-named Secret Executioners Filmark version that has Godfrey Ho’s name slapped on it as director a double-edged sword. On the one hand its a horrendously modified version of the original – clocking it at 90 minutes compared to the original runtime of 108, which when you factor in the newly inserted gweilo fight footage means there’s likely close to 30 minutes missing. On the other, it’s also the only available way to watch it. The perils of attempting to watch many of the entries in Korea’s taekwon-action genre!

In my feature Fists, Kicks, & Kimchi, I’d stated that “if it’s possible to choose one title which could be interpreted as the last of the ‘pure’ taekwon-action movies, then it would likely be The Trouble-Solving Broker.” Made during an era when the taekwon-action style was increasingly being incorporated into more traditional kung-fu themed settings thanks to the success of 1978’s Drunken Master, Secret Executioners acts as a kind of snapshot of the other direction the genre could have gone in. The 1980’s in general are considered a grim period for Korean cinema, and in 1982 the country as a whole was still reeling from military dictator Chun Doo-hwan strong arming himself into power following the assassination of Park Chung-hee. Fittingly, Doo-yong shifted the taekwon-action genre from the western inspired locales of early 20^th century Manchuria to the modern day, often filming guerilla style on the streets of Seoul.

The story focuses on the titular broker (or “the illegal problem solver” as the English dub calls him) played by Shin Woo-chul (Fury in Shaolin Temple, The Supreme Order), looking for all intents and purposes like a Korean version of Columbo, complete with the crumpled beige raincoat and an unassuming demeanour. His services are hired to assist a group of market vendors who’ve been extorted by a gangster running a real estate scam, and who’s backed himself up with a gang of heavies led by fellow broker Hwang Jang Lee (Eagle vs. Silver Fox, Buddhist Fist and Tiger Claws). An acquaintance of Woo-chul who’s less averse to taking on jobs that involve criminal activity, despite sharing a friendship the arrangement puts the pair at loggerheads with the expected results. After their investigations lead them to an acquaintance of the market whose sister has been kidnapped, they’re able to put aside their differences to come to the rescue.

The core of the story for the most part remains, with Godfrey Ho choosing to regrettably incorporate a handful of fight scenes filmed in Hong Kong that utilise the debatable talents of Jim Norris, responsible for the most embarrassing display of snake fist ever committed to film. These scenes involve such highlights as a guy who spits milk whenever he gets hit, insults like “white trash” and “n*gger boy” being thrown around, and most bizarrely – Kwon Il-soo (The Postman Strikes Back, Hard Bastard). Il-soo’s presence is a weird one since he’s also in the original version, so how he got roped (or if he knew he was in the first place!) by Ho into filming the new scenes is one of those great genre mysteries we’ll probably never know the answer to. Their roles give the story a gang rivalry slant, often resulting in narrative confusion, but thankfully there aren’t too many scene insertions (unlike the infamous Ninja Terminator which would come 3 years later).

Despite being responsible for starting the taekwon-action genre with 1974’s The Manchurian Tiger, the last time Doo-Yong had dabbled in the genre prior to Secret Executioners was 6 years earlier with 1976’s Visitor of America (also criminally most well known as its bastardized version Bruce Lee Fights Back from the Grave). In the time since he’d go on to become a critically acclaimed director by helming the likes of The Hut and The Last Witness (both from 1980), and it’s the gritty realism of the latter which also permeates throughout Secret Executioners. The low budget sees Doo-yong frequently filming on the street’s guerilla style, including a frantic foot chase, and much of the story plays out in billiard halls, coffee shops, nightclubs and marketplace restaurants, unintentionally capturing an authentic aura of what Seoul felt like at the time, even with the dubbing.

The same grittiness applies to the story itself, and while Hwang Jang Lee was relegated to being a bit player in almost all of Doo-yong’s early taekwon-action movies, here he’s upgraded to co-star status following his popularity in Hong Kong. Indeed his character here is probably the most fully realised of all his roles – far from turning up to deliver little else aside from sternly worded threats, evil laughter, and his lethal boot work, here we get to see him partake in more menial tasks like getting his hair shampooed in a barber shop, getting it on with a prostitute, and going to a public bath with an acquaintance (source of the much noted HJL posterior shot that seems necessary to point out in any discussion on Secret Executioners!).

It’s the latter setting that also delivers one of the most brutal beatdowns in the boot-masters filmography. Finding himself ambushed in the locker room, Jang Lee proceeds to unleash his kicks against anyone in range, offering up a sense of franticness and desperation which feels far removed from his invincible kung-fu villain roles. The opening Filmark credits list Jang Lee as the fight choreographer, although without the original Korean credits this is impossible to verify, however what’s clear is that Doo-yong seemed to want to make this his taekwon-action swansong and go out with a bang. Fights frequently break out against multiple opponents within confined spaces involving plenty of property damage, and even if some of it feels a little sloppy, the hits feel hard and the choreography leans into the brutality of being kicked or punched in the face.

Woo-chul is a highlight, and as an actor who’s slightly on the burlier side, he energetically throws himself into the kicks he delivers. A standout fight sequence (and the only real one on one) sees him go up against Jang Lee in a knockdown drag out brawl on a beach that segues into an abandoned building, in which they almost bring the entire structure down by kicking out the wooden supporting pillars holding up the rafters. In a latter café set fight scene there’s also an unintentionally amusing moment when Woo-chul delivers a flying kick to a foreigner playing one of the lackeys. After delivering the reaction shot to being kicked he proceeds to calmly stand in the corner, assuming he’s out of shot, until it becomes obvious someone must be frantically signalling him off-camera to move, and he attempts to (failing miserably) subtly exit stage left.

The best is saved for last though, as a literal who’s who in the taekwon-action genre convene in a brick factory for an almost uninterrupted 8-minute mass brawl encompassing fists, feet, steel pipes, knives, spades, bricks (expectedly) and a katana for good measure. Doo-yong even throws in a car driving through a brick wall, as Woo-chul and Jang Lee combine forces to rescue Min Bok-gi (Wild Panther, Strike of the Thunderkick Tiger) and her sister. It’s an entertainingly chaotic and relentless sequence that sees more flying kicks doled out than is possible to count, and everyone goes at it as if their life depended on it. As one of the last times the original era of taekwon-action would grace the screen, Doo-yong ensures that everyone has a moment in the spotlight, and in many ways the scene acts as a precursor to the kind of group brawls that would become a fixture in the gangster genre during the 1990’s and 2000’s.

Despite the Filmark interference Secret Executioner has been subjected to, Doo-yong’s gritty street level vision of Seoul in the early 1980’s and the characters who populate it still shines through. In one particularly gnarly scene a character has their head pushed face first into an unflushed toilet bowl, and as much as I’d consider it a similarly suitable punishment for how Filmark treated so many of the taekwon-action productions, in this case we also have them to thank for being able to see it at all. For that, they can almost be forgiven. Almost.

Paul Bramhall’s Rating: 8/10

The post Secret Executioners | aka Trouble-Solving Broker (1982) Review first appeared on cityonfire.com.

“Ninja in the Dragon’s Den” Japanese Theatrical Poster

Director: Corey Yuen
Cast: Conan Lee, Hiroyuki Sanada (Henry Sanada), Tanaka Hiroshi, Tai Bo, Hwang Jang Lee, Kaname Tsushima, Someno Yukio, Chin Lung, Tien Feng, Ma Chin-Ku, Best Kwon Yeong-Moon, Paul Wei Ping Ao
Running Time: 95 min. 

By Ian Whittle

In memory of Corey Yuen Kwai, whose death in 2022 was recently made public.

The early 80s saw an explosion of ninja-mania, instigated by Eric Van Lustbader’s novel The Ninja, and Western films such as The Octagon (1980) and Enter the Ninja (1981). Hong Kong naturally wanted a piece of the pie, resulting in titles as uniquely odd as Shaw Brother’s Five Element Ninjas (1982) and an absurd number of movies with Richard Harrison in neon-coloured ninja outfits.

But Ninja in the Dragon’s Den, from indie HK studio Seasonal, and the directorial debut of Corey Yuen Kwai, has the edge over them. Because it has THIS song.

Which you’d better like as it gets played about 56 times during the movie!

A mysterious ninja (is there any other kind?) known as the Shadow. Genbu (Sanada Hiroyuki) is killing off various high-ranking officials in revenge for the death of his father. The last man on his hit-list, Fukusa (Tanaka Hiroshi), a retired ninja, has fled to China years before, and Genbu and his wife set off for China, with a ninja clan leader, Sanchiro (Kwan Young-moon) in pursuit.

All rather serious and intense…which means the film suddenly remembers it’s a 1980s kung fu comedy, and we have to sit through two reels of young kung fu master Sun Jing (Conan Lee, real name Lloyd Hutchinson) tormenting his hapless smut-reading pal Chee (Tai Bo, whose real name is not presumably Billy Blanks) with practical jokes. Although typical of HK movies of this time, these shenanigans, with nasal Cantonese dubbing, don’t sit easily with the more Japanese/Western feel of the opening ninja scene. Weirdly, they probably work better in the above-average English dub, in which Chee, renamed Charlie, appears to be voiced by Burt Kwouk. There is an incredible fight sequence when Sun Jing battles a festival performer playing the Bull God on stilts, though I’m still non-the-wiser as to WHY the Bull God performer is seemingly attacking his fellow performers for real! And wouldn’t you know it, but Sun Jing’s “Uncle Fu” is the incognito Fukusa!

Thankfully Genbu arrives in China, and after briefly unknowingly encountering Sun Jing in a teahouse – the two wind up cheesing off a spiritual boxer, who threatens to sic his dad on them – makes many attempts on Fukusa’s life, with Sun Jing devising outlandish ways to counter him, culminating in an astonishing fire stunt that looks downright lethal for the poor stuntman!

Several deaths and several “I’m not-actually-dead” deaths later, Sun Jing and Genbu become friends…which, in the manner of various comic book crossovers, means they suddenly take on a common enemy in the form of the spiritual boxer’s father (Hwang Jang-lee). Disappointingly, Hwang is very underused here…and the finishing move used on him is rather low, though one can’t help but laugh at it, and it’s the same move used on him in the same year’s Secret Ninja, Roaring Tiger, so I guess it shows he was a good sport if nothing else.

The enduring legacy of Ninja in the Dragon’s Den SHOULD, or more likely COULD, have been Conan Lee, but he never seemed to catch a break – I’m not exactly clear on the details but Bey Logan, who knows a thing-or-two about making a mess of one’s career, likens Conan’s career management to that of former 007 George Lazenby. Based on this, Lee is stuck playing Jackie Chan from Drunken Master, which was probably getting very old hat by this point, not least because Chan was about to completely remake his screen image with modern Hong Kong actioners. Lee did have the edge over Jackie in that he spoke English as a first language, but based on this film and subsequent efforts like the hilarious Tiger on Beat, he was always going to eclipsed by his more established co-stars – Sanada here, Chow Yun-fat in the latter film – and despite an impressive 80s perm, and some rather outlandish clothes (the Venomish silvery jackets, the shoes with clown pom-poms!)  there just isn’t much going on here to grab the attention.

The theme song probably did help, though!

Ian Whittle’s Rating: 7/10

The post Ninja in the Dragon’s Den (1982) Review first appeared on cityonfire.com.

“Returned a Single-Legged Man 2” Theatrical Poster

Director: Lee Doo-yong
Cast: Han Yong-cheol, Bae Su-chun, Kim Mun-ju, Im Eun-joo, Elton Chong, Park Dong-ryong, Cho Chun, Kim Wang-guk, Hwang Jang Lee, Han Tae-Il
Running Time: 88 min.

By Paul Bramhall

The taekwon-action genre is one that’s largely faded into obscurity both in the west and in its native Korea, a combination of lack of availability, and the titles which are available usually being heavily bastardized from their original versions. It felt like somewhat of a minor miracle then when, in 2023, the Korean Film Archive released Returned Single-Legged Man and The Manchurian Tiger on their Korean Classic Films YouTube channel as part of a retrospective of director Lee Doo-yong. Uncut, in their original language with English subtitles, and presented in HD, it marked the first time for any title from the taekwon-action genre to receive such treatment, and was probably thanks to Doo-yong going on to helm more well-known classics like The Last Witness and The Hut in the 1980’s.

While most of us resigned ourselves to the fact it was unlikely we’d see more entries from the world of taekwon-action receive the same treatment, after the passing of Doo-yong in January 2024, the Archive released one more dose of takewon-action in the form of Returned a Single-Legged Man 2. A thematic sequel rather than a direct continuation, RaSLM2 (as I’ll refer to it from here on in) was one of 6 productions Doo-yong made with his leading man Han Yong-cheol in 1974. Discovered by Doo-yong through an audition aimed at finding a star to headline a new kind of action movie, one which emphasised taekwondo kicks over swordplay and gun slinging, together the pair created what became known as taekwon-action with the release of The Manchurian Tiger.

Hopefully it’ll mean at some point we’ll also get to see Left Foot of Wrath, Bridge of Death, and The Betrayer get the same treatment, but as the 3^rd of Doo-yong and Yong-cheol’s collaborations to become readily available, RaSLM2 comes with a welcome sense of familiarity. Cranking out 6 movies within a year saw the pair work with the same cast and crews each time and dealt with similar themes – we get Yong-cheol as the stranger with a mysterious past, Bae Su-chun (Lonely Star of Osaka, The Boss of Kowloon) as the villainous Japanese, and Kim Mun-ju (Action Monk, Gallant Man) as the character who may or may not have ulterior motives.

Where Doo-yong breaks from tradition this time around is with the inclusion of a female character who’s also a proficient fighter, played by Im Eun-joo (who in English prints would be billed as Pearl Lin) in her screen debut. A proficient screen fighter who’d go onto feature in the likes of Four Iron Men, The Deadly Kick, and the Korea shot Jackie Chan flick Dragon Fist, RaSLM2 offers the first chance to see her unleash when she’s harassed in the park by a group of rowdy youths led by a young Elton Chong. Yong-cheol plays a mandu chef at the restaurant the orphaned Eun-joo and her kid brother live and work at, and in return he gets free board, providing a cover for the real reason he’s in town. As per standard for these Manchuria westerns, missing gold is involved, and it turns out he’s not the only one who’s after it, with the Japanese also looking to sniff it out. Naturally, lots of kicking ensues.

For those who’s first exposure to Korea’s taekwon-action genre was through the English dubbed, Asso Asia distributed versions (which will probably translate to all of us), there are plenty of familiar faces to be found in all Doo-yong and Yong-cheol’s collaborations. As usual here Park Dong-ryong (Wild Panther, Enter the Game of Death), Cho Chun (Eagle vs. Silver Fox, Mortal Battle), and Kim Wang-guk (My Name Called Bruce, Kill the Shogun) play the trio of lackeys under Su-chun’s Japanese gangster, and are given plenty of opportunities to be get in on the action. Yong-cheol’s confident swagger in many ways feels like it predates Ma Dong-seok’s similar style in contemporary Korean cinema, none more so than when he walks into a room with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, and calls out each one of them to take a crack at him with the expected results.

Realising Yong-cheol’s left foot is too formidable for them, Su-chun eventually resorts to calling in the ‘Three Brothers of Osaka’, which is worth the price of admission since one of them is played by Hwang Jang Lee in his first significant action role. Never mind that it’s one that sees him sporting an admittedly goofy looking cape. The legendary boot master, who’d go on to cement his status 2 years later by playing the Silver Fox in The Secret Rivals, here plays the karate expert of the trio. The other brothers consist of a sword fighting expert played by Kwon Il-soo (The Postman Strikes Back, The Shaolin Drunken Monk) and a judo expert played by Kim Young-in (Quick Man, Osaka Godfather). The inclusion of the trio and their respective styles sees some welcome variety injected into the fight choreography, with Yong-cheol finding himself outmatched when he’s forced to take on all 3 at once.

Unlike the first Returned Single-Legged Man, which leaves audiences scratching their heads as to exactly when Yong-cheol becomes ‘single-legged’, here there’s no room for debate, as his defeat sees his ferocious left leg ruthlessly sliced off at the knee. What follows is the earliest example I’ve seen of the trope where a character loses a leg, then proceeds to train himself to use a fake metal one (a trope which, admittedly, could only exist within the world of martial arts cinema). Predating Sun Chien in the 1978 Shaw Brothers production Crippled Avengers, and the taekwon-action genres own Dragon Lee in Champ Vs. Champ from 1980, here Yong-cheol and Eun-joo are soon getting to work on making a cast iron prosthetic appendage ahead of the expected rematch.

Compared to its predecessors (RaSLM2 would be the 5^th of the 6 collaborations to be released in 1974, hitting the screens in October with only A Betrayer coming after it) the thematic sequel offers up some hints of comedy mixed in with the drama and action beats. This is no more apparent than when Yong-cheol heads back into the fray with his iron leg, and every time he delivers the finishing kick it’s accompanied by a spring-loaded sound effect, making for a slightly surreal (but admittedly amusing) experience considering the ferocity of the fight doesn’t abate in the slightest. Yong-cheol still gets a one on one to round things off, taking place on the same picturesque cliff edge seen in the original (although not in the context of the finale), and is noteworthy in that at one point it sees Eun-joo come to the rescue when his prosthetic leg is ripped off, stepping in to continue the fight while he reattaches it.

Indeed while all 6 of the productions that Doo-yong and Yong-cheol worked on in 1974 (and would be the only time they worked together, as Yong-cheol looked for better deals elsewhere once the year concluded) must have been made in quick succession, there’s still a noticeable improvement in the fight choreography as they progress. A benefit of using the same cast each time who got to know each other’s movements and timings, the fights in RaSLM2 are the best I’ve seen out of the 3 titles that are available, complimented by some slight undercranking that serves it purpose to convey the intensity of the exchanges. The fact that we also get the chance to see Yong-cheol face off against Hwang Jang Lee 7 years before their brawl in Buddhist Fist and Tiger Claws is the icing on the cake.

While there’s no denying the interchangeable nature of the productions that Doo-yong and Yong-cheol made together, there’s also no denying that what they created was a winning formula, and it was one that they got a little better at with each successive movie they cranked out. Returned a Single-Legged Man 2 feels like the peak of that formula, with the brazen machismo of the genre (you can’t go wrong with lines like “Are your bones unbreakable!? Is your belly lined with iron!?”) matched perfectly with the ferociousness of the fight scenes. What’s left to ask but for more taekwon-action productions be made available to be enjoyed.

Paul Bramhall’s Rating: 8/10

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“The 36 Deadly Styles” Theatrical Poster

Director: Joseph Kuo
Cast: Nick Cheung Lik, Chan Lau, Mark Long, Jack Long, Max Lee Chiu-Chun, Fan Mei-Sheng, Jeanie Chang, Yeung Chak-Lam, Hwang Jang Lee, Bolo Yeung
Running Time: 92 min. 

By Paul Bramhall

When it comes to the old-school kung-fu genre, the year 1979 almost comes with the equivalent of a “satisfaction guaranteed or your money back” kind of deal, as an almost unlimited deluge of quality releases graced the 12 months that would mark the end of the 70’s. Lau Kar Leung unleashed the likes of Dirty Ho and Mad Monkey Kung Fu, the Venoms were cranking out classics like The Kid with the Golden Arm, and Sammo Hung was coming into his own with the likes Knockabout, The Odd Couple, and The Magnificent Butcher. It would be easy to continue, but then we’re not here to talk about those slices of kung-fu excellence that could seemingly do no wrong, we’re here to talk about The 36 Deadly Styles which, frankly, does quite a lot wrong.

Helmed by Taiwanese Indie maestro Joseph Kuo, by 1979 as a director Kuo had already left an indelible mark on the kung-fu genre with classics like The 18 Bronzemen, The 7 Grandmasters, and Born Invincible. Almost as if someone had told him there was going to be a ban on kung-fu movies in the 1980’s, Kuo pushed himself to the limit in 1979, directing a total of 7 movies (plus a co-director credit on 1979’s Immortal Warriors), more than any other year since he made his directorial debut in 1958. Amongst his output for the year were classics like The Mystery of Chess Boxing and The World of the Drunken Master, as well as passable kung-fu flicks like Dragon’s Claws and The Fearless Duo. Sitting squarely at the bottom of the heap, and certainly in the lower rungs of Kuo’s filmography as a whole, is The 36 Deadly Styles.

It’s probably best to address the elephant in the room first – I’m pretty sure I only counted 8 or 9 styles at most, so those clocking in for a veritable smorgasbord of kung-fu styles should check your expectations at the door, as you’ll come away severely short changed. The 36 Deadly Styles is one of those productions that looks like it was filmed in and around other more enjoyable kung-fu flicks that Kuo helmed in 1979 (see the previous paragraph), and each time cameras started rolling again a little piece of coherency got lost. I cite the evidence of at least 2 of the actors – Nick Cheung Lik and Chan Lau – suffering from interchangeable hair length between various scenes, indicating that at least 3 or 4 months must have gone by if my hair growth time estimations are on point.

The plot here is especially loose, and for that to be said about an old-school kung-fu flick, you know things have to be bad. On paper at least, it goes something like this – Mark Long (Ninja Hunter, Death Cage) is the head of a vicious martial arts clan, and is less than impressed when one of the members, played by Jack Long (The Super Ninja, The Boxer’s Adventure), deserts the clan and runs off to Tibet with the 36 Deadly Styles manual before anyone has had a chance to read it. The clan enlist the help of superkicker Hwang Jang Lee (Lackey and the Lady Tiger, Blood Child) to track down a quartet in league with the defector, and after barely surviving the initial confrontation, Max Lee Chiu-Chun (who’s also on fight choreography duty) sacrifices himself to the Koreans fearsome kicks so the other 3 can get away. 

10 years later, the trio are laying low – Fan Mei-Sheng (Amsterdam Connection, The Young Master) is running a food stall with his daughter, played by Jeanie Chang (Winter Blossom, Flyer of Young Prodigal), while Yeung Chak-Lam (The Cheeky Chap, A Fiery Family) has become a senior monk at a temple. Sham Chin-Bo has stayed close to the son of Chiu-Chun, now played by Nick Cheung Lik (The Dragon Lives Again, Bruce Lee the Invincible), however when the clan finally catch up with them, they find themselves outnumbered, with Chin-Bo leaving Cheung Lik in the care of Chak-Lam at the temple where he’s become a monk. Naturally, being a kung-fu movie, this is the part where Cheung Lik should train to get his revenge, but no, in this case what we actually get is an insufferable amount of juvenile comedy.

A large part of The 36 Deadly Styles involves teeth gratingly bad comedy, usually complimented by everything from The Pink Panther soundtrack, to the overbearing sound of a gong being hit every time someone takes a trip or a fall. I was half expecting clowns to come running into frame from the side of the screen. I confess I’ve written the above synopsis from a chronological perspective, but onscreen it’s a complete mess. Opening with Chin-Bo and Cheung Lik being pursued, the whole backstory of Jack Lam running off with the manual and Hwang Jang Lee’s apparent 10-year pursuit of his acquaintances is told through a series of muddled and incoherent flashbacks. Amusingly, Mark Long and Jack Long’s combined screentime totals less than 10 minutes, despite their characters decisions being the crux of the plot. The good news is that about half of that time is them facing off against each other, in a rare highlight.

Joseph Kuo would work with Hwang Jang Lee a lot during 1979, with the pair also collaborating on Dragon’s Claws and The Fearless Duo, however here his face is frequently obscured by a hideous grey glam-metal wig. This would seem to be a deliberate choice, as I could swear there are scenes when Kuo is pulling a Fearless Hyena 2, and it is in fact someone else doubling for Jang Lee, likely to film scenes that he realised were needed for attempted coherency after Jang Lee had already moved on to other productions. No such excuse can be used for the other wigs on display. Chan Lau (The Dragon, The Hero, Blind Fist of Bruce) plays one of the clan members in pursuit of Chung Lik, flanked by Lau Kwok-Shing (The Drug Connection, Last Hurrah for Chivalry) and Bolo Yeung (Writing Kung Fu, Bruce Strikes Back). 

Usually Kwok-Shing’s blonde centre parted wig would be enough to steal the show, however he looks fairly plain when compared to Bolo’s multi-braided, heavily fringed Rastafarian inspired get-up. There are simply no words to describe it, and it’s so epic that in one scene he actually has to hold it in place when breaking into a run. Unfortunately it’s these supporting characters which keep The 36 Deadly Styles mildly bearable, as Nick Cheung Lik doesn’t have much presence as a leading man. One of countless competent screen fighters attempted to be billed as the next kung-fu comedy star following the success of the previous years Drunken Master, he was soon back to turning up in Bruceploitation fare (Treasure of Bruce Le came out later in the very same year!). 

The real scene stealer here is Jeannie Chang, an actress who appeared in just 6 movies spanning 1979 to 1982, all of which (with the exception of one) where for Joseph Kuo. Attractive, bubbly, and clearly a martial artist, she lights up the screen whenever she’s on it, and after being initially paired with Cheung Lik as his equal, it feels almost criminal that she gets relegated to the side-lines for the finale against Hwang Jang Lee. Before that though, there is at least an entertaining sequence of fights that sees Cheung Lik, Chang, and Fan Mei-Sheng team up to take on Hwang Jang Lee, Lau Kwok-Shing, and Bolo Yeung. Max Lee’s choreography isn’t quite as sharp as his peers like Corey Yuen or Tommy Lee, and this was only the second time for him to choreograph solo following Erotic Dreams of Red Chamber from the previous year (which admittedly may have required a different type of choreography), but it’s serviceable at least.

After some underwhelming training sequences involving a fence made of bamboo, Cheung Lik eventually faces off against Jang Lee in a fight which fails to make any real connection to the significance of his training. Unlike Lau Ga-Yung in Dragon’s Claws, here Max Lee’s choreography fails to make a convincing case that Cheung Lik could defeat Jang Lee, and as such the finishing moves feel rather uninspired, leaving the obligatory ‘The End’ that flies onto the screen seconds later as both a frustration and a relief. Considering Kuo’s output for 1979, it’s perhaps not surprising that not every movie he cranked out was going to be top tier quality, but still, knowing that definitely doesn’t make The 36 Deadly Styles any easier to sit through.

Paul Bramhall’s Rating: 4/10

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“Returned Single-Legged Man” Theatrical Poster

AKA: The Korean Connection
Director: Lee Doo-yong
Cast: Han Yong-cheol, Kwan Yung-moon, Jeong Sonyeo, Lee So-yeong, Kim Mun-ju, Nam Chung-il, Bae Su-chun, Kwon Il-soo, Cho Chun, Elton Chong, Hwang Jang Lee, Nam Chung-il, Lim Hae-lim, Kim Ki-bum
Running Time: 88 min.

By Paul Bramhall

Being a fan of Korea’s martial arts output, which spanned from the 1960’s through to the 1990’s, has never been a particularly rewarding endeavour. Want to check out one of the titles from the 90’s? The only option available is to hunt down a rare domestic VHS release that definitely won’t come with any English subtitles (not to mention sourcing a VHS player!). Curious to see what the 70’s and 80’s had to offer? Chances are you’ll end up watching a horribly re-edited, chopped up, and dubbed into a completely different story atrocity that Godfrey Ho purchased the international distribution rights to, and changed to fit what he believes appealed to western audiences at the time. How about the 60’s? Forget about it, if you didn’t see it in a Korean cinema at the time of its release, chances are you never will. 

One such title from the 70’s that I had the opportunity to check out many years ago was The Korean Connection. Released on DVD in the U.S. by Pathfinder Entertainment in 2003, it was such a dark (literally, not plot wise) incomprehensible mess that I felt sure it mustn’t have been the original version. In many ways, I probably have that DVD to thank for starting my journey to uncover the truth behind much of Korea’s so-called kung-fu flicks available in the west. It turned out its title wasn’t The Korean Connection at all, with its real one being the grammatically challenged Returned Single-Legged Man. A 1974 production, the Pathfinder DVD was missing 10 minutes from its 85-minute runtime, had been re-edited into a completely different story, and sounded like it had been dubbed by a group of softly spoken American college students.

The Korean Film Archive released Returned Single-Legged Man on VOD for a short period in 2011 without English subtitles, but it would take until 2022 for it to become available on their Korean Classic Films YouTube channel not only with English subtitles, but also presented in HD for the first time. For those who want to check it out, the video is linked at the end of this review. The 3^rd of 6 movies the iron triangle of director Lee Doo-yong, star Han Yong-cheol, and choreographer Kwan Yung-moon would make in 1974, following The Manchurian Tiger and Bridge of Death, it would be Returned Single-Legged Man that cemented Yong-cheol’s action star status with Korean audiences (so much so that it spawned a thematic sequel, released less than 3 months later!).

Like all of their collaborations, Doo-yong and co. remain in ‘Manchuria western’ territory, with this time Yong-cheol playing an aimless drifter who chooses to drown his sorrows in the bottom of a soju bottle. Orphaned as a child, Yong-cheol has been raised by a feared gangster, however when he falls for a well-to do girl, her brother tells him the only way he’ll approve their relationship is if he turns his back on the gangster lifestyle he was brought up in. Being a romantic guy, Yong-cheol chooses love, and after a severe beating his adopted further agrees to let him leave his side, but only if he carries out one last job – intercept a well-guarded masked courier carrying a stash of money and steal it.

Yong-cheol makes easy work of the courier by knocking him out, however when the pair of Japanese accompanying him choose to kill the courier rather than let him live, removing the mask Yong-cheol is horrified to discover that it’s his future brother-in-law. Falling into despair he becomes an alcoholic recluse, however after discovering that his former fiancé has been forced to wed a sadistic Japanese against her will, he decides to pull himself together and go on a rescue mission to bring her back. 

Returned Single-Legged Man brings a familiar roster of faces (and locations) from Doo-yong’s previous productions, with Bae Su-chun (Miss, Please Be Patient, Woman’s Martial Arts) back as a Japanese villain, and Kim Mun-ju (Gallant Man, Tarzan in Korea) also returning, this time as a heavy for hire. However we also get an early look at many of the familiar faces who’d continue to become genre mainstays over the next 10 years. The likes of Kwon Il-soo (The Postman Strikes Back, The Deadly Kick), Cho Chun (Eagle vs. Silver Fox, Deadly Roulette), Elton Chong (Invincible Obsessed Fighter, Magnificent Natural Fist), and perhaps most notably – Hwang Jang Lee (Tiger Over Wall, Dragon’s Claws), here in his screen debut – all make welcome appearances and get brief moments to strut their stuff.

Unlike The Manchurian Tiger, this time choreographer Kwan Yung-moon (My Young Auntie, Kung Fu Zombie) pulls double duty by also appearing in front of camera, playing a flute playing drifter who can deliver a mean kick (not to mention, his flute doubles up as a handy club to beat assailants with). He’s aided on choreography duty by Nam Chung-il (Golden Dragon, Silver Snake, Buddhist Fist and Tiger Claws) who also has a minor role, and is instantly recognizable as one of the lackeys that populates the background of many a Korean kung-fu flick. Despite how quickly these productions must have been turned around considering they made 6 of them in 1974 alone, the choreography here is notably a notch above The Manchurian Tiger. 

Perhaps because of everyone becoming familiar with working together in such a short time, there’s a noticeable increase in speed and complexity, with a number of satisfying one (or two) versus many melees that flow well, accompanied by kicks being dished out left right and centre. There’s also the inclusion of acrobatics, with one fighter being particularly fond of somersaulting, combined with some nice reaction falls to add impact to the hits. One of the most iconic scenes deserves to be included in any discussion on 70’s martial arts movies, which sees Yong-cheol arrive at a remote bridge spanning a ravine. Decked out all in black like an early Man from Nowhere, he proceeds to walk across while taking on a small army of attackers led by Hwang Jang Lee, and doesn’t even bother to put down the bag that he’s holding. For scenes of pure bad assery, the sequence ranks highly regardless of genre.

The opportunity to have 3 legends of kung-fu cinema share the screen together in the form of Han Yong-cheol, Kwan Yung-moon, and Hwang Jang Lee certainly isn’t wasted, even if at the time they’d have no idea of their future status. Yung-moon gets to exchange kicks with both Yong-cheol and Jang Lee (which, despite being shorter, is far more entertaining than their fight in Blood Child 8 years later), while Yong-cheol looks close to realising his full potential as a screen fighter. In one scene he takes on a room full of attackers with just his kicks since his hands are tied behind his back, a whole 16 years before Donnie Yen would perform a similar fight in Tiger Cage II (and that was just against one person, although admittedly that person was Michael Woods). It’s a scene reflective of Korea’s boot work focused choreography of the era arguably being ahead of the Hong Kong basher style that still dominated the early – mid 70’s.

There is one rather large elephant in the room, in that after the scene where Yong-cheol has his hands tied behind his back, he’s punished by the Japanese who proceed to pummel his leg so that he can no longer use it (one character even says he’ll “never be able to use that leg again”). I’d assumed this scene is the origin of the ‘Single-Legged Man’ the title refers to, however shortly after we reach the finale, and Yong-cheol proceeds to kick seven bells out of everyone with both of his legs like nothing of the sort had happened. Perhaps it was due to a rushed production schedule, but still, it feels a little odd to overlook a plot point that relates directly to the title of the movie! Thankfully for fans of taekwon-action this will be a minor quibble, and considering I count myself as one of them, I’m willing to let it go. A classic of the genre, Returned Single-Legged Man is well worth checking out.

Paul Bramhall’s Rating: 7.5/10

The post Returned Single-Legged Man | aka The Korean Connection (1974) Review first appeared on cityonfire.com.

“Challenge of the Tiger” Theatrical Poster

AKA: Gymkata Killer
Director: Bruce Le
Starring: Bruce Le (Huang Kin Long), Richard Harrison, Nadiuska, Hwang Jang-lee, Kong Do, Bolo Yeung Sze, Brad Harris, Dick Randall, Pei Ju-Hua
Running Time: 86 min.

By Ian Whittle

(Note: Every online source I’ve seen says this film is from 1980, which is contradicted by 1982 being mentioned in the dialogue, and a sequence taking place at an event that took place in that year!)

Although it features no martial arts, the opening sequence of Challenge of the Tiger must rank as one of my favourite martial art movies intros ever. Two scientists discover the secret of making men infertile, declare that it must not be used for the wrong purposes, then embrace passionately. Seconds later, masked men burst in and shoot them.

Genius. I defy any film to top that!

Challenge of the Tiger is the third of three films Bruce Le made in Europe for producer Dick Randall; the others being Le starring in Ninja Strikes Back, and Le’s bizarre cameo in the bizarre slasher Pieces, which is, let me assure you, very bizarre. Le also wrote and directed Challenge, so you know exactly who to thank/blame. Le plays agent Huang Lung, assigned to track down the missing formula. Because this is an international movie, he can’t do it without a white guy, so we have agent, Richard Cannon (yes, Dick Cannon) played by Richard Harrison. 

Harrison is a funny case. Originally a 50s pinup model and muscleman, he started making films for AIP (you can see him, topless naturally, piloting Vincent Price’s airship in Master of the World) and married the daughter of AIP’s head honcho James H. Nicholson. He later ended up in Italy starring in sword-and-sandal movies and spaghetti westerns (allegedly turning down Fistful of Dollars) and by the 70s ended up in Taiwan appearing in two films for Chang Cheh: Marco Polo and The Boxer Rebellion. His appearance in Challenge of the Tiger is probably also an one-off, but only a few later he was stuck making endless ninja movies for Godfrey Ho, immortalised forever in that clip of him using a Garfield telephone in Ninja Terminator.

And if you thought John Saxon got an unfair share of the action in Enter the Dragon, you ain’t seen nothing yet. Harrison’s first scene is him arriving at his palatial mansion to be greeted by a LOT of naked babes, some of whom play slow motion tennis, and accompanied by the strains of “Montego Bay” by Jon Stevens. Throughout the movie, Harrison will sleep with every lady going, whilst barely lifting a finger to help fight-wise. Which is good because I really don’t fancy seeing Harrison getting the best of Hwang Jang-lee, never mind Bolo!

So our heroes start off in Spain… where Bruce Le does not one, but two Sonny Chiba tributes: he fights a bull (ala Karate Bullfighter) and smashes its skull, represented with crude x-ray animation (ala The Street Fighter). Harrison gets friendly, if you know what I mean, with Miss Spain 1982 Maria who is in possession of the formula and is a secret agent played, not by the actual Miss Spain 1982 Ana Isabel Herrero García (can you tell I had to look that up?) but by Nadiuska, who played Conan’s mother in Conan the Barbarian the same year. Meanwhile, Bruce tries to distract her dog, which growls like a cat. Yes, you read that right!

Oh, right, the formula! So Le retrieves it from Maria, only to discover it’s Spanish Fly. The real formula is en route via Hong Kong to a international cadre of villains (headed by Dick Randall, appropriately enough) whose assortment of hired goons includes HK regular Chiang Tao and Brad Harris, the latter of whom can best be described as a Western version of Bolo Yeung… who is also in this movie as a member of a group of Vietnamese freedom fighters/terrorists/I’m really not sure which and neither is the movie. The Vietnamese group is headed by Hwang Jang-lee, in a rather subdued performance for him, and they also want the formula. And one of their number is a gorgeous lady (Pei Ju-Hua) who’ll be all over Richard Harrison like remoras on a shark. I could question why all these girls are ignoring Bruce Le, but then here, more than ever, he looks like Mowgli from Disney’s The Jungle Book on sterioids. Richard Harrison may not be Dolph Lundgren, but yeah, I’d be going for him too given the choice!

Just when you thought, OK this movie is pretty wacky, you realise you underestimated it. Le and Harrison end up in Macau, at The Macau Trotters’ Association’s Second Anniversary celebrations no less. And for some reason, US tv vets Jack Klugman, Jane Seymour (hey, Dr Quincey and Dr Quinn in the same movie!) and Morgan Fairchild were in attendance there, so of course footage of them chatting with Le is stuck into the film in the same manner Bruce Lee was into Fist of Unicorn! I can’t say whether such shenanigans are typical of Dick Randall’s non-HK product, but I wouldn’t have put it past him, and god bless ‘im for it.

On the martial arts side of things, Le shows considerable improvement from his earlier movies with more dynamic kicks and less of the silly Bruce-isms. I also give the film credit for not trying to pass off Harrison as a martial arts master (unlike, well, a lot of other movies!) so he relies more on his fists, and takes a heck of a lot of blows to the groin! Who needs a formula to make men infertile when Hwang Jang-lee can do that with his feet? Disappointingly, Le doesn’t get to fight Bolo here, and the final fight between Le and Hwang is curtailed unnecessarily shortly in a car chase, but hey, thankfully we got Enter the Game of Death and Ninja Strikes Back to address those issues respectively. And as a madcap combination of the best HK and Euro exploitation had to offer in the 80s, this madly entertaining flick is well deserving of more attention.

And just what was Bruce Le saying to Jack Klugman?

Ian Whittle’s Rating: 7/10

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“Eagle vs. Silver Fox” Theatrical Poster

Director: Park Yun-Gyo
Co-director: Godfrey Ho
Cast: Hwang Jang-Lee, Gwak Mu-Seong, Sarah Sit Chi-Lin, Nam Chung-Il, Chiu Chun, Kim Yu-Haeng, Pok Chung-Sit, Choe Mu-Ung, Kim Gi-Jong
Running Time: 95 min.

By Paul Bramhall

If there’s one aspect of the kung fu world that’s more deadly than any secret technique, it’s the IFD Films distributed kung fu movie. Virtually every readily available Korean kung fu movie from the 70’s and 80’s is likely to be viewed in the form of the IFD (or Asso Asia) version, a distribution label helmed by Tomas Tang and Joseph Lai. The pairs modus operandi was to take these kung fu flicks, reconfigure the plot (usually in its entirety) via an English dub, re-edit and cut like it’s going out of fashion (and occasionally even throw in scenes from different movies all together), and finally create new opening credits that replace whoever the original director was with their buddy Godfrey Ho.

The 1980 production Eagle vs. Silver Fox is about as classic an example of this as you can get. Not only do we get all of the above, but there’s also an element of Silver Fox-sploitation thrown in with the title, named after the villain of the piece played by Hwang Jang Lee. It was the role of Silver Fox in 1976’s Secret Rivals that put Jang Lee on the map, and on a couple of occasions the name would be resurrected in an attempt to make a movie more marketable. 1979’s Rivals of the Silver Fox was the first to use this approach, also a slice of Korean kung fu, although rather flagrantly it didn’t feature Hwang Jang Lee at all, with the name instead referring to a character played by Phillip Ko Fei. Eagle vs. Silver Fox does at least offer up Hwang Jang Lee as the villain, although there’s no silver wig in sight, instead opting for a spotted sliver robe that he’s decked out in for the finale. Does that count? Debatable.

Originally titled Flying Martial Arts, the director is in fact Park Yun-gyo. A journey man director who worked in Korea’s studio system from the mid-60’s through to his retirement in the mid-80’s, Yun-gyo would occasionally dabble in the kung fu genre. He directed Nang-hwa Secret Martial Arts in 1979, and acted as the Korean co-director on co-productions like Hitman in the Hand of Buddha and The Ring of Death (both of which also featured Hwang Jang Lee). It’s clear though that his real passion was horror, with such entertainingly titled entries in his filmography of over 30 movies like Witch Castle, Resented Spirit of Baby Bride Groom, Song of the Dead, The Haunted Wedding Dress, and Thousand Year Old Wolf.

It’s probably fair to say that in its form of Eagle vs. Silver Fox, it may not be entirely representative of Yun-gyo’s original vision, however anyone that regularly subjects themselves to the niche that is the Korean kung fu movie will be in familiar territory. 1980 was the busiest year in Hwang Jang Lee’s career, turning up in a total of 8 kung fu flicks that were released throughout the year, many of them cementing the trope of being the villain that turns up for the finale, regardless of how little he’s been in the movie until that point (Lackey and the Lady Tiger being a prime example). It’s also the only movie that he’d make in Korea that year, however as the 80’s progressed he’d work in his homeland more and more (in 1981 alone he’d make Hitman in the Hand of Buddha, Buddhist Fist and Tiger Claws, and Hard Bastard).

Despite Jang Lee understandably being used to promote Eagle vs. Silver Fox, he’s actually not in it all that much, mostly there to sit on a chair in the middle of a temple barking out orders to his subordinates (yes, the same chair you’ll see him sat on in a number of other Korean kung fu flicks) and provide the occasional evil laugh. His dubbed voice here is a particular highlight, seemingly being voiced by a Kenneth Williams soundalike, it’s a distinctive nasal rasp which I don’t think I’ve heard being applied to the legendary leg fighter in any other movie outside of this one. While similar voice work made the performance of actors like Dean Shek even more unbearable than they already were, here it adds a certain sense of hilarity to proceedings, with Jang Lee’s clearly poker faced line delivery serving as a ridiculous juxtaposition to the voice that comes out of his mouth.

The main actor (who we’ll assume is Eagle, although its never implicitly stated) is Gwak Mu-seong (hilariously credited as Mario Chan in the opening credits). A familiar face from the Korean kung fu movie scene, Mu-seong can usually be found in supporting roles in more popular Korean kung fu stars movies like Dragon Lee’s The Last Fist of Fury and Casanova Wong’s Lone Shaolin Avenger. In 1978 he got the chance to strut his stuff as a leading man, headlining Dragon from Shaolin, Return of Fist of Fury, and Four Infernos to Cross, and it’s easy to see why. While he may not be the most charismatic actor to have ever graced the screen, he had the moves, and could exchange kicks with the best of them.

Here he plays the son of a murdered freedom fighter looking to seek revenge for his father’s death (who was in possession of a “secret message”, which gets increasingly forgotten as the runtime progresses). As is par for the course, after narrowly escaping death he’s rescued by an old kung fu master played by Nam Chung-Il (Return of Red Tiger, Golden Dragon, Silver Snake). Chung-Il teaches Mu-seong the flying fist technique, in some of the most unconvincing training sequences ever committed to film, and he’s ready to go. Of course, to flesh out the runtime beyond the 20 minutes that the above would take up, Mu-seong also meets a girl played by Seol Ji-yeon (Lady Snake Fist, Raiders of Buddhist Kung Fu). Ji-yeon’s parents were also killed by the Silver Fox and his lackeys, and to top it off, it turns out that they’re betrothed to each other. So, the stage is set, they’ll kill Silver Fox and then start their lives together. Kung fu and romance! 

Godfrey Ho must have thought that romance alone wasn’t enough to fill out the runtime, as we also get some randomly inserted scenes of Hwang Jang Lee kicking trees and coconuts from 1982’s Blood Child, indicating that at least in the west, Eagle vs. Silver Fox was released a couple of years after it was made. Of course it could also be that he felt like Jang Lee just doesn’t do enough in the movies original form, so a couple of extra kicks were needed. Indeed on the action front he’s actually outshined by an earlier fight that takes place in a restaurant between Mu-seong and a kicker who I can’t for the life of me identify. Both go at each other with some fierce displays of footwork which incorporates Mu-seong also seeing off several of his lackeys at the same time (this is possibly the only fight scene that features someone being kicked up the stairs). 

It’s a shame to not be able to name the opponent, as he and his gang get the greatest introduction ever, in a scene which sees them strolling through a field while randomly busting out cartwheels, flying kicks, and random yells for no reason whatsoever. It’s masterful. Naturally regular Korean kung fu baldies Cho Chun and Kim Yu-haeng also make an appearance as Hwang Jang Lee’s bodyguards. I don’t know what it is with Korean kung fu movies and themed bodyguard pairings, with Enter the Invincible Hero’s peck flexing bodybuilders being another great example, but I like it. Their fight against Mu-seong is clunky and comedic, however the biggest surprise is that the final fight which pits Mu-seong against Hwang Jang Lee isn’t that much better. 

Jang Lee is also on fight choreography duty (the titles amusingly credit the Martial Arts Director as Silver Fox), a role he’d only take on one more time in the following years modern day set Buddhist Fist and Tiger Claws, and he does himself a disservice when it comes to his own showdown. As expected, Mu-seong takes a pummelling, and while many of Jang Lee’s villainous roles involve the tables being turned on him in varying degrees of credibility, the way he’s defeated here provides a wet leaf of an ending. Eagle vs. Silver Fox definitely isn’t in the higher echelons of the Korean kung fu genre, not out there enough to be entertaining in a so bad it’s good kind of way, and not fight heavy enough to recommend as a straight-up dose of kung fu goodness. If you’re left recommending a movie more for Hwang Jang Lee’s dubbing than for his kicks, then it’s fair to say Eagle vs. Silver Fox can safely be skipped.

Paul Bramhall’s Rating: 5/10

The post Eagle vs. Silver Fox | aka Flying Martial Arts (1980) Review first appeared on cityonfire.com.

“Dragon’s Claws” Promotional Poster

Director: Joseph Kuo
Cast: Lau Kar Yung, Hwang Jang Lee, Wong Biu Chan, Yuen Qiu, Hon Gwok Choi, Chan Lau, Chu Tiet Wo, Lau Hok Nin, Sham Chin Bo, Wong Chi Wai, Got Ping
Running Time: 91 min.

By Paul Bramhall

The kung fu genre had a pretty tough act to follow in 1979, following a year which gave us such timeless classics as Drunken Master, Warriors Two, and Heroes of the East. Thankfully kung fu talent was in plentiful supply, and arguably the whole of the late 70’s and early 80’s period is responsible for creating some of the greatest kung fu movies of all time. While studios like Golden Harvest, Seasonal Films, and Shaw Brothers continued to be the big hitters, the independent scene was also cranking out plenty of classics around the same time as well. One name which is synonymous with the independent kung fu movie, is director, writer, and producer Joseph Kuo.

By 1979 Kuo had already been directing movies for over 20 years, however in the mid-70’s he struck up a particularly illustrious partnership with Carter Wong, who became his go-to leading man. Between 1976 – 1978 Kuo and Wong would collaborate as director and star on The Blazing Temple, The 18 Bronzemen and its sequel, The Eight Masters, The Shaolin Brothers, and Born Invincible, however with the 80’s looming, Kuo spent the final 12 months of the 70’s looking for his next leading man. Enter Lau Ga-Yung, a relatively fresh face who came with the esteemed connection of being Lau Kar-Leung’s nephew, and had up until this point featured in a handful of supporting roles. He made his screen debut as the noodle stall assistant in Kar-Leung’s directorial debut The Spiritual Boxer in 1975, and can be spotted in a small role alongside fellow Lau clan member Lau Kar-Wing in 1978’s Dirty Tiger, Crazy Frog.

It was 1979 that really gave him his chance to shine though, when Kuo cast him as the lead in Dragon’s Claws, and then later in the year The Fearless Duo. In an era which was full of attempting to cast talented stuntmen and choreographers as the next big thing (the following year would give us Yuen Tak in The Master, Mars in Lackey and the Lady Tiger, and Blackie Ko in Master Killers), Ga-Yung set the trend by proving it takes more than just screen fighting prowess to carry a movie, and was back to playing supporting roles within a couple of years. Personally, I’ll always know him as the guy that directed the 1990 modern-day actioner New Kids in Town, which gives us one of the rare opportunities to see Lau Kar-Leung unleash in a contemporary setting minus any comedy trappings.

Some sources say Dragon’s Claws was originally written with Jackie Chan in mind, however considering he and Kuo were rarely in the same circles, it seems more likely that Kuo’s movie is one of the many inspired by Chan’s collaborations with Yuen Woo-Ping. With that being said, Kuo was able to secure the villain from the previous years Snake in the Eagle’s Shadow and Drunken Master in the form of Korean superkicker Hwang Jang Lee (who’d notably go on to further collaborate with Kuo on The 36 Deadly Styles and again opposite Ga-Yung in The Fearless Duo, both from the same year). Jang Lee would spend most of the next 5 years playing kung fu movie villains, often barely clocking in any screen time until the prerequisite finale, however here he thankfully has a little more to do.

The story, for a kung fu movie, is surprisingly dark in tone if not execution. Ga-Yung plays the mischievous son of a kung fu master that runs the Dragon Boxing sect school. Played by Lau Hok-Nin (The Boxer from the Temple, Hell’s Windstaff), he runs the school with support from his wife, played by fellow old-school kung fu luminary Yuen Qiu (Dragon, The Young Master, Kung Fu Hustle). Their lives are interrupted by the arrival of Hwang Jang Lee, who’s returned from a self-imposed exile in Manchuria to claim the seal of the school and take over. So far, so the usual old-school kung fu movie tropes. 

Where Dragon’s Claws differentiates itself, is that it’s revealed that Jang Lee and Qiu used to be lovers, however Qiu has spent the last 18 years trying to make it work with Hok-Nin, after he raped her and she fell pregnant with who’d grow up to become Ga-Yung. Hok-Nin’s health has been slowly failing over the years, since Qiu hit him with the deadly Dragon’s Claw strike during their altercation, however as she doesn’t want Ga-Yung to be fatherless, it’s a burden she’s been willing to endure. The story may be reflective of Kuo’s more dramatic martial arts themed work like 1969’s King of Kings, however onscreen it carries little impact, with the nature of the events surrounding the narrative delivered via straight faced exposition, robbing the revelations of carrying any emotional weight.

Jang Lee should be a conflicted antagonist whose past has made him the villain he is today, tortured by the way he lost the love of his life in the cruellest of circumstances, but onscreen, well, he’s Hwang Jang Lee. He looks angry, reels of a number of villainous spiels about wanting to take over the school, and wipes the floor with everyone. The story may be understood, but it’s definitely not felt, which somehow feels like a missed opportunity. With that being said, it’s still a 1979 kung fu flick with Hwang Jang Lee, so it’s also fair to say there probably won’t be too many kung fu fans out there complaining about the lack of emotional range in his acting. Here he primarily uses the Dragon’s Claw style when he springs into action, before utilising his kicks whenever he needs a little assistance from his feet to defeat whoever he’s fighting against, his footwork revealed in the plot to be a style he acquired whilst in Manchuria. 

He’s accompanied by a couple of henchmen, hilariously called the Green Monster and Red Monster. Played by Chan Lau (The Dragon, The Hero, Kung Fu Zombie) and Chu Tit-Wo (Crystal Fist, Blood Child), while there’s nothing particularly green or red about them, they bring a welcome dose of extra kung fu goodness to proceedings, and the pair have a couple of solid fight scenes. Ga-Yung himself is on point in the fighting department. He spends a portion of the movie under the tutelage of an old beggar, who can best be described as a knock-off Sam Seed, and is played by Pak Sha-Lik (The 36 Deadly Styles, Tales of a Eunuch). Unfortunately Sha-Lik has neither the charm nor grace of Simon Yuen, so scenes which replicate the tandem style of fighting from the likes of Snake in the Eagle’s Shadow, where Sha-Lik controls the movement of Ga-Yung, come across as rather clunky and uninspired.

Sha-Lik is also responsible for the majority of the tortuous comedy that springs up in Dragon’s Claws. None more so than that infamous old-school kung fu trope, the gag involving kids pee! Let’s face it, to watch an old-school kung fu comedy you develop some immunity to these poorly aged shenanigans, but here even I felt a little uncomfortable. Apart from getting peed in the face, we get a whole scene dedicated to Sha-Lik lining up a group of kids, telling them to pull their pants down, and then requesting that they pee into a pot several meters away with the promise of a treat for whoever can get theirs in. To make things a little more awkward, he then sits right next to the pot practically asking to get soaked. It’s as uncomfortable to watch onscreen as it probably feels to read.

Thankfully, like so many kung fu movies of the era, Dragon’s Claws populates its closing reel with the kung fu. Yuen Qiu throws down against Chan Lau and Chu Tit-Wo, as does Ga-Yung, before events culminate in the expected showdown between Ga-Yung and Hwang Jang Lee. It’s a worthy finale, and while many kung fu flicks that featured Jang Lee as the villain would see him abruptly defeated in less than convincing style, here Ga-Yung is entirely believable in being able to get the better of the Korean super-kicker. 

Choreographed by Max Lee Chiu-Chun, Dragon’s Claws was the first partnership with Kuo as director and fight choreographer, and the pair would continue to work together on The 36 Deadly Styles, The Unbeaten 28, and Shaolin Temple Strikes Back. Together with Kuo’s talent for being able to connect his protagonists’ trainings with how they defeat their final adversary, Dragon’s Claws proves to be one of the best examples of this, resulting in a satisfying finale which doesn’t make Sha-Lik’s presence a waste of time. While it’s unlikely to appear in many discussions on the best kung fu movies of the era, as an unfussy dose of old-school kung fu which knows how to utilise the talents of its cast, Dragon’s Claws delivers how you’d expect it to, it’s just difficult to shake the feeling that it could have been much more.

Paul Bramhall’s Rating: 5.5/10

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“Lackey and the Lady Tiger” Theatrical Poster

Director: Norman Law Man
Co-director: Siao Lung
Producer: Ng See Yuen
Cast: Hwang Jang Lee, Mars, Lee Chun Hwa, Tien Niu, Tsang Choh Lam, Chu Chi Ling, Linda Lin, Sek Kin, Charlie Chan, Yiu Lam, Chiang Kam, To Siu Ming
Running Time: 98 min.

By Paul Bramhall

Producer Ng See Yuen and Seasonal Films knew they were onto a good thing with the double-whammy of Snake in the Eagles Shadow and Drunken Master, the 1978 productions that effectively launched Jackie Chan into the stratosphere, and made Korean super-kicker Hwang Jang Lee a household name. By the time it was 1980, Chan was at Golden Harvest attempting to break into Hollywood with The Big Brawl, as well as working on his sophomore feature in the director’s chair with Young Master. See Yuen was left scrambling to recreate the success of his collaborations with Chan, and repeatedly looked to the same formula but with a different lead.

In 1979 Dance of the Drunken Mantis brought back most of the cast and crew (including Yuen Woo-Ping as director and Hwang Jang Lee as the villain), with the Yuen Clan’s Yuen Shun-Yi as the lead, and 1980 kicked off with Two Fists Against the Law, which brought in Alan Chui and Chik Ngai-hung to face off against, you guessed it, Hwang Jang Lee. While both productions had moderate success, they also serve as early examples that prove regardless of your leads screen fighting talent, if you’re going to headline a movie you also need an equal amount of screen presence and charisma. Undeterred though, the latter half of 1980 saw the release of Lackey and the Lady Tiger, another attempt to stick to the formula that was perceived as the winning one from a couple of years prior.

The irony of Lackey and the Lady Tiger is that this time the Jackie Chan replacement is the man who’d become one of Chan’s most famous stunt doubles – Mars. Taking on a lead role for the first time (and arguably last, although he’d play a supporting character with significant screen time in Naughty Boys from 1986), Mars is one of those likeable guys who’s always up for performing a crazy stunt. Just a year prior he’d become a part of Jackie Chan’s Stuntman Association, and he’d go onto play supporting roles as well as stunt doubling in many of Chan’s most famous work from the 80’s (notably, he performs the famous alley way bicycle lift in Project A).

Here he plays a lowly kitchen hand who loves to learn kung fu, if only he had the money to do so. Thankfully he’s a resourceful guy, so when making food deliveries to a local kung fu school (run by Charlie Chan), he tends to stick around longer than needed to observe what’s being taught. He also becomes acquainted with the fish delivery boy (who’s actually a girl, played by Tien Niu, the Lady Tiger the title refers to) of the restaurant he works at, who turns out to know both snake fist, and what can best be described as fishing kung fu. Her skills comes from her grandfather, played by the legendary Sek Kin (the villain from Enter the Dragon), who’s developed a unique style of fishing which has him use a pole to strike the fish when they’re just under the surface. A humane death, and no fussing around with lines or hooks! Needless to say, this is also a not so subtle indicator that he’s a kung fu master.

So, what exactly is the plot? Damned if I know. I’ll be honest, in old-school kung fu movie’s plot isn’t that much of a priority. Give me a bare bones revenge tale that has the slightest thread of coherency, throw a bunch of top level fight scenes in there, and you won’t find me complaining about a lack of characterisation or how many plot holes there were along the way. However Lackey and the Lady Tiger struggles even with this. It’s a well-known fact that many of these old-school kung fu flicks were made up as they went along, with the main priority being the fights, however never has it been more blatant than here. Apart from Mars wanting to learn kung fu, and his subsequent attempts to do so, there doesn’t seem to be a whole lot going on. A villain would be nice at least.

Just short of the hour mark, co-directors Siao Lung (The South Shaolin Master) and Norman Law Man (A Hearty Response) seems to realise this, so suddenly Hwang Jang Lee (who else!?) randomly shows up in jail being visited by his sister. He’s getting out in 3 months, and wants revenge on Sek Kin for some reason (don’t expect to have too much more clarity on why by the time the end titles roll). Before that though, it honestly feels like Lung and Law Man’s approach was something along the lines of, “We’ve got Mars and Hwang Jang Lee in the same movie, so let’s just keep on filming whatever inconsequential crap comes to mind while we figure out a way to have them fight.”

Onscreen, this amounts to basically an hour of unfunny comedy, fights which for the most part are played for laughs, and plotless meandering. Fish get thrown into people’s faces, firecrackers get set off in people’s eyes (which I found to be kind of cruel, but hey, that’s just me!), and at its most infuriating Tien Niu breaks into an ear bleeding rendition of Rock Around the Clock, set to the context of a training scene which has Mars surrounded by suspended bricks tied to various appendages. It’s a struggle to get through, and time gets warped to feel much longer than it actually is.

Matters aren’t helped by Mars himself. Like the Xing Yu’s and Philip Ng’s of today’s kung fu movies, supporting roles are where he really shines, with leading man status proving to be a bridge too far. It may of course be the fault of the character he’s being asked to play, but his permanently cheerful demeanour means a grin never seems to be far from his face, making it almost impossible to feel that anything is really at stake in the fights he partakes in (yes, even when he’s getting beaten to a pulp, he still ends up showing his pearly whites!). There’s also a lack of focus on exactly which style we should be concentrating on – in the beginning he learns snake fist, which becomes more and more inconsequential, he attempts to copy the pole fighting from the kung fu school, then also learns pole fighting from Sek Kin, and ultimately ends up copying a cat (via repeatedly throwing one into the air to observe how it lands, poor cat!).

Thankfully the last third has Hwang Jang Lee released from jail, sporting what appears to be his cream coloured threads from Drunken Master (I initially thought a shot of him walking was recycled!). Any opportunity to see the boot master in action is usually a welcome one, and here the action choreography is handled by Chan Siu-Pang. While his name may not be instantly recognizable, Siu-Pang has an impressive body of work as a fight choreographer, and at this point in his filmography had already racked up 20 years of experience. He worked extensively with Cliff Lok, choreographing the likes of Tiger’s Claw, Thou Shall Not Kill…But Once and Duel of the 7 Tigers, and also Joseph Kuo, handling the action on The Blazing Temple, The 18 Bronzemen, and The Shaolin Kids to name a few.

Here Jang Lee is given a fighting style that represents a “form of judo that uses their opponent’s strength against them.” As expected, this results in him being able to throw his opponents around with ease, however the lack of focus results in even this fighting style being diluted, as in the short time he’s onscreen he also uses a pole (fresh from using one in Hell’s Windstaff the year prior), as well of course as his famous kicks. The closing reels of Lackey and the Lady Tiger consist of Jang Lee taking on Linda Lin Yang (who plays his sister trying to set him on the straight and narrow), before seguing into a fight against Sek Kin, then Mars, before eventually becoming a 2 vs 1 as Mars teams up with Tien Niu to take him out.

While the fights serve their purpose, they lack any kind of distinctive “wow!” moment. Jang Lee’s ferocious kicks are kept in check just enough to miss them, and his famous 3-blows flying kick feels carbon copied from the one he performs in Drunken Master (probably because he’s wearing the same clothes). For the 2nd time in 3 years he has to suffer defeat thanks to a ridiculous cat based style of kung fu, which Mars cheerily refers to as his “anti-judo power cat’s paw kung fu” (I’m serious). Lackey and the Lady Tiger was made in Jang Lee’s busiest year, clocking up 8 appearances in 1980, so perhaps he was tired of knowing he can kick everyone’s ass but still have to end up defeated. Indeed tired is the best way to describe Lackey and the Lady Tiger, which feels like a movie clinging onto the previous decade, when the reality was most audiences had already moved on.

Paul Bramhall’s Rating: 4.5/10

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“Buddhist Fist and Tiger Claws” Korean Theatrical Poster

AKA: Yong-ho’s Cousins
Director: Lee Hyeok-Su
Cast: Charles Han Yong-Cheol, Hwang Jang-Lee, Nam Chung-Yat, Park Ae-Kyung, Han Kyung
Running Time: 95 min.

By Paul Bramhall

Buddhist Fist and Tiger Claws is about as perfect an example of Godfrey Ho tampering that you’re likely to come across. A 1981 Korean production titled Yong-ho’s Cousins, directed by Lee Hyeok-su, it became one of the many Korean kung fu flicks that were picked up by Ho and Tomas Tang for overseas distribution through their Asso Asia company. At best, under Ho and Tang these movies would be given an English title, an English dub, and a new set of opening credits citing Ho (or one of his many aliases) as the director. At worse, they’d be given all of the above, and then also be re-edited into completely different plots than the original movie, or even have newly shot ninja footage inserted into the runtime to be passed off as a completely new movie.

In this case, Ho’s meddling has it sat somewhere in the middle. While there’s no new ninja footage randomly inserted, the original version Yong-ho’s Cousin’s has been completely chopped up and dubbed to resemble a very different beast than it started out as. The original involved a pair of Korean independence fighters that steal a horde of Japanese gold. When the pair meet an untimely end, half of a map which shows where the gold is buried ends up in the hands of one of the fighter’s sisters, while the other ends up in the possession of Hwang Jang Lee. Step in Han Yong-cheol, who also plays an independence fighter looking for his fallen comrade’s sister, and who ultimately gets embroiled in the search for the gold. Then you have Ho’s version, which strips the plot down to make Hwang a mischievous card sharp who’s after the gold, and ends up partnered with Yong-cheol to find it. That’s pretty much it.

It isn’t the first time one of Hyeok-su’s movies has been bastardized by Ho’s confusion inducing editing, with another production featuring Hwang Jang Lee from the same year, Chunyong-ran, being given the same treatment and released under the title of Hard Bastard. What’s most interesting about Buddhist Fist and Tiger Claws though, at least in terms of its western marketing (which is exactly the audience it was edited for), is its heavy leaning on the presence of Hwang. In fact, the Silver Fox himself is not the main star of the piece, but rather he plays a supporting role to Han Yeong-cheol (who takes center stage on the original poster). Yong-cheol was the leading action star when it came to Korean kung fu flicks in the 70’s, and even over 40 years since he first appeared onscreen in 1974’s Manchurian Tiger, it’s easy to see why. Six foot tall, handsome, and with a confident swagger, even dubbed into English his screen presence and charisma still shines through.

In many ways, the pairing of Yong-cheol alongside Hwang in Buddhist Fist and Tiger Claws can be seen as a handing over of the torch from one kicking legend to the other. By 1981 Hwang had already become a seemingly permanent fixture in Hong Kong movies as an indestructible villain, with enough classics to his name that they run into double figures. For Yong-cheol on the other hand, this would be the last movie he appeared in, and unlike his Korean contemporaries such as Casanova Wong and Kwan Yung-moon, he never felt the urge to hop over to Hong Kong and apply his formidable kicks there. Just 7 years earlier, Yong-cheol played the lead in one of his best movies, Returned Single-Legged Man, horrendously chopped up and released in the U.S. as The Korean Connection. While Yong-cheol played the title character, here Hwang was a nameless lackey, so for him to rise to co-star status by the time of Buddhist Fist and Tiger Claws is to be admired.

Interestingly Hyeok-su, who would continue making action movies all the way up to his final picture with 2002’s Quick Man, cast Hwang in similar roles both in Buddhist Fist and Tiger Claws and Hard Bastard. Playing distinctly against type compared to the unstoppable villain roles he’d become accustomed to playing overseas, in both productions he plays comically inclined swindler type characters, who tend to run away from confrontation just as much as they’re likely to get involved in it. Fans of the king of leg-fighters may be thrown off by such portrayals, and indeed 1981 itself is a unique year in the boot masters filmography. Apart from his comedic turns in Hyeok-su’s productions, he’d spend part of the year minus his trademark beard (including here), and also make his directorial debut with Hitman in the Hand of Buddha.

One thing that can’t be denied though, is the entertainment value derived from watching Yong-cheol and Hwang strut around in their fantastically 70’s style wardrobe, despite it already being 1981. Bell bottom pants, oversized collar disco shirts, and blazers that look 2 sizes too big are the order of the day, and the visual appeal of throwing flying kicks in such attire can likely be appreciated more now than it could at the time of its release. While Yong-cheol had made his fair share of contemporary set movies, including Strike of the Thunderkick Tiger from the same year, Hwang on the other hand had mostly been cast in period pieces, and very rarely got to let loose in a modern day surrounding. This would change as the decade progressed, with appearances in the likes of Bruce Strikes Back and Where’s Officer Tuba?, but by then the bell bottoms were out, and 80’s style nylon tracksuits just didn’t have the same appeal.

Hyeok-su had spent most of the 70’s directing Korean kung fu movies, working with the likes of Casanova Wong, Dragon Lee, and Eagle Han, and sure enough for fans of the genre there are plenty of familiar faces to enjoy in Buddhist Fist and Tiger Claws. From Kwon Il-soo as a black leather blazer wearing assassin, to Kim Ki-ju as a cane wielding villain. The main villain of the piece though comes in the form of Nam Chung-il, who never once takes his sunglasses off, even when he’s in the middle of throwing down. The finale, which appears to take place in a gravel pit, has Yong-cheol taking on Ki-ju, before both Hwang and Chung-il show up, which sees it segue into a two versus one showdown against the latter. I admit that even for me it was strange to see Hwang paired up with another hero to take out the bad guy, as so many of the movies he appeared in involve 2 or more protagonists needing to team up to take out his usual villain character.

However it should come as no spoiler to say that, true to form, events culminate in the righteous Yong-cheol having to throw down against a backstabbing Hwang. To see two legends of the Korean kung-fu movie face off against each other is one of the main reasons to watch Buddhist Fist and Tiger Claws, and it should come as no surprise to say that the confrontation is suitably scrappy and raw. Those looking for Hong Kong style choreography have definitely come to the wrong place, but both sides definitely get their licks in and show off some brutal kicks. Like always, Hwang dominates the fight, the viciousness of his kicks unable to be tamed even for the screen, with Yong-cheol spending most of it on the defence, until the two of them are sent tumbling down a mountain of gravel while still going at each other. As expected, ultimately Yong-cheol makes a comeback, but there’s certainly no doubt left at the end of it as to how Hwang gained his formidable reputation.

Ultimately Buddhist Fist and Tiger Claws is an entertaining snapshot of early 80’s Korean action. The suits are sharp and action is raw, even if not as frequent as some may like. However much like Hong Kong’s Chow Yun Fat, Han Yong-cheol has a level of charisma that allows him to carry a movie by himself, so when you throw in Hwang Jang Lee, things are never going to be that bad. While it lacks the goofier elements that made me so endeared to Korean kung fu flicks – there’s no bizarre instances of wirework or outlandishly whacky characters – for those that like their action served poker faced, shortly before being kicked in it, there’s plenty to enjoy here.

Paul Bramhall’s Rating: 6/10

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“Dance of the Drunk Mantis” Chinese Theatrical Poster

AKA: Drunken Master 2
Director: Yuen Woo-ping
Producer: See Yuen Ng
Cast: Siu Tien “Simon” Yuen, Shun Yee “Sunny” Yuen, Hwang Jang Lee, Linda Lin, Corey Yuen, Yen Shi Kwan, Dean Shek, David Wu, Lee Fat-Yuen
Running Time: 121 min.

By Chris Hatcher

When Siu Tien “Simon” Yuen first stepped onto the Asian cinema scene in 1947 at age 35, one of his earliest roles was as a thug in director Wu Pang’s The Story of Wong Fei-Hung, which featured Kwan Tak Hing in the legendary title role. Having trained in the traditional Peking Opera, Yuen was credited in more than 300 films spanning 30+ years before his untimely death in 1979. He played a variety of roles, from technical turns as stunt coordinator and fight instructor to bandits, cooks, mentors, and kung fu masters. However, none was more memorable than his late turn as the drunkard Beggar So (aka Sam Seed) in Jackie Chan’s 1978 smash hit comedy Drunken Master… a film that brought Yuen full circle by portraying him as the uncle to, none other than, Wong Fei Hung.

I tie the above preface to my review of Yuen’s final completed picture, Dance of the Drunk Mantis, so I can set the stage for explaining why I really love this film. Otherwise, you run the risk of seeing it and coming away with a mixed impression of an “Old Man Yuen” needing an obvious stunt double to perform 90% of his fight scenes, which is true. My hope is to turn this oft-times negatively regarded aspect into a positively endearing point of view that will help you see this film for what it truly is… a comedic masterpiece, rivaling the humor of Drunken Master and displaying some of the most technical, cool-as-the-other-side-of-the-pillow fight choreography in the genre. Not to mention, standing as an excellent showpiece for the ultra-talented Yuen Clan.

Reprising his role as Sam Seed, Yuen plays the red-nosed champion of southern Chinese drunken boxing made all the more potent by a good rice wine. His counterpart, the northern drunken boxing king Rubber Legs (Hwang Jang Lee, Yuen’s Drunken Master alum and all-around bad ass), has secretly combined his drunken skills with mantis kung fu and is in search of Sam for an old school smackdown. An early encounter with a Sam Seed imposter shows Rubber Legs and his apprentice (Corey Yuen) mean business in challenging Sam for the drunken boxing title.

Meanwhile, the real Sam returns home after several years away on a bender to find his irritable wife (the great Linda Lin, another Drunken Master alum) has adopted an adult son named Foggy (Shun Yee “Sunny” Yuen). He likes to scrap, but his kung fu is lousy as evident by the beating he takes from a shady banker (played by Dean Shek, the creepy King of Kung Fu Comedy). This prompts Ma Seed to suggest Sam teach their son drunken boxing, a proposition Sam cruelly accepts as a way to humiliate Foggy.

Watching Sam make his son fall from stilts or play a one-man game of Twister in the name of “training” is typical old school humor. But in an atypical move, the story takes a brief turn of pathos when Sam berates Foggy for being a stupid kid who can’t hold his liquor. The scene proves effective as Foggy blames himself for Sam’s cruelty and decides to leave home. (For the record, 8 Diagram Pole Fighter is the most sentimentally deep old school film I’ve ever seen. And while that entire film is soaked in sorrow with virtually no humor (one of the reasons I absolutely love it), it was nice to see a comedy like DotDM aspire to hit a sentimental note like this.)

When Foggy barely survives an encounter with Rubber Legs and his apprentice after learning Sam is next on their hit list, he returns home to warn his father. This leads to one of the more renowned scenes in old school kung fu cinema… the restaurant showdown between Sam and Rubber Legs. It’s the highlight of DotDM as the duel begins innocently enough with the playful posturing of arm and hand locks over glasses of wine and ends in a full-on drunken brawl to the death (Yuen’s stunt man works overtime as the scene continuously shifts from close-ups of Yuen to fantastically staged fight choreography by his double). Luckily, when Rubber Legs pulls out his deadly drunken mantis fist and overpowers Sam, Foggy steps in to help dear old dad live to fight another day.

And we’re only two-thirds of the way through Dance of the Drunk Mantis by this point, with some of the most dynamic kung fu yet to come when Sam’s brother, Sickness (Yen Shi Kwan), secretly teaches Foggy his sick kung fu during Sam’s recovery. Looking like death warmed over, Uncle Sickness tells Foggy his kung fu can counter Rubber Legs’ mantis fist and the training sequences do not disappoint. They are so good, in fact, as to qualify DotDM with one of the better old school “zero to hero” transformations in Foggy, who displays some serious Chan-like acrobatics during his shift to stud status. He’s great in his rematch with the apprentice and ready for the challenge by the time Rubber Legs arrives to put Sam and Foggy in the ground for good.

The first big positive going for Dance of the Drunk Mantis is its director… the great Yuen Woo Ping, Simon Yuen’s eldest son. Everything he touches is branded with a mark of high quality, and DotDM is no exception. If you only know Yuen Woo Ping for his fight choreography on The Matrix trilogy, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, and the Kill Bill films, you’re truly missing out. His direction is stellar, ranging from modern day martial arts classics like Iron Monkey to classics of the old school era like Dreadnaught, The Magnificent Butcher, and the aforementioned Drunken Master (DotDM was promoted as DM’s unofficial sequel).

The second positive is the excellent mix of humor and martial arts skill… some of the best in the old school era. Some scenes sprinkle bits of excellent kung fu amidst a piece of great comedy, like the contentious “welcome home” match between Sam and his wife. The humor takes center stage as Sam dodges an assortment of slaps, kicks, broom strikes, and verbal jabs in a routine reminiscent of a Three Stooges skit. A scene like this could have come off as corny, but Yuen’s sad clown expressions and big toothy grins add an endearing quality to the whole thing. Seeing Yuen barely able to duck a kick in one scene followed by an immediate cut to his stunt double skillfully flipping out of harm’s way only adds to the charm. And there are several other equally funny scenes like this throughout the film.

Other scenes, such as the climactic battle between Foggy and Rubber Legs, showdowns between Ma Seed/Foggy and apprentice, and the ever-excellent restaurant brawl flip the formula and add touches of great comedy to masterful fight sequences. You’ll fully understand this notion when, in the midst of some amazing choreography, Rubber Legs’ mantis fist rips the pants off Sam and a bout of “sexy hips” kung fu takes place! Trust me when I say you’ll want to replay the restaurant scene multiple times just to admire how it builds from verbal grandstanding to technical showmanship to one of the all-time great duels of the genre. And no amount of stunt doubling can detract from it!

Then there’s Sunny Yuen, Corey Yuen, Linda Lin, Yen Shi Kwan, and the amazing Hwang Jang Lee… players who make Dance of the Drunk Mantis shine as a kung fu powerhouse from start to finish. Sunny, one of Yuen’s middle sons, does some of his best work in this one, as does Corey (who isn’t actually one of the Yuen family members); Lin is always skillful with some of the straightest leg kicks in the business; Kwan is a technical master in his handful of scenes; and Lee, who looks great as a Pai Mei archetype, delivers his signature crazy-leg kicks with an added mantis stance that looks wicked as hell!

And, finally, there’s Simon Yuen, who couldn’t have made it through DotDM without the aid of a very special Yuen Clan member… one of his youngest sons, Brandy, who we initially see as the Sam Seed imposter, but who we don’t “see” as his father’s dynamic stunt double. The notion of a son literally working in his aging father’s footsteps ups the endearment factor by tenfold, and helps eradicate any talk about his over-use hindering the film. In fact, Brandy Yuen was a highly regarded stunt coordinator/stunt man in Hong Kong back in his day, and it’s his skill that allows Dance of the Drunk Mantis to soar when other films under similar circumstances would have likely crashed and burned.

Sadly enough, Brandy’s completed work on the silver screen would go unseen by his father, who died of a heart attack five months prior to DotDM’s release while filming The Magnificent Butcher. Simon Yuen reprised his role as Sam Seed for the Yuen Woo Ping vehicle, which required reshoots of his scenes upon his death. He was replaced by Fan Mei Sheng, but the name “Sam Seed” was not used out of respect for the character Yuen had made famous. If for no other reason, see Dance of the Drunk Mantis and know you’re watching a performance by an actor who gave everything to his craft… right to the very end. You may just experience the same affection for the film’s excellent qualities as I did and love it!

Chris Hatcher’s Rating: 9/10

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“Blood Child” DVD Cover

AKA: 5 Fingers of Steel
Director: Vincent Leung
Cast: Hwang Jang Lee, Yen Shi Kwan, Kwan Yung Moon, Lee Yi Yi, Yuen Mao, Chu Tiet Wo, Chan Lau
Running Time: 87 min.

By Paul Bramhall

While Blood Child without doubt belongs in the category of being an old-school kung fu movie, there’s also a few elements to it that undeniably set it apart from being just another cookie cutter fight fest. A pre-credit sequence opens with the scene of a mother, played by Lee Yi-Yi, sat on the doorstep of a dwelling as she cradles her new born baby. It’s immediately apparent that somethings wrong, and when a passer-by enquires as to if she’s ok, her lack of response and glazed expression prompt him to check on the wellbeing of the child, only to discover that it’s been stabbed to death.

After the credits finish, proceedings open a year earlier, as we learn how events transpire to lead to such a traumatic opening. The dark tone set by such a gruesome early reveal makes Blood Child engaging from the beginning, a rare feat in the old-school kung fu genre, as we’re invested in how Lee Yi-Yi came to be incoherently sat there, cradling a murdered baby in her arms. The movie was directed by Vincent Leung, his first and last time in the director’s chair. Leung worked mainly as an editor, with over 160 productions to his name from the mid-60’s, all the way through to the millennium. However while he’d also direct the 1994 Jet Li documentary, Shaolin Kung Fu, he never returned to directing feature length productions outside of Blood Child.

It’s a shame, as he gathered an enviable group of kung fu talent to appear onscreen together. Yuen Miu and Yen Shi Kwan play brothers, with Miu set to marry Yi-Yi. Yuen Miu is probably the least known of the ‘Seven Little Fortunes’, the same Peking Opera School troupe that the likes of Jackie Chan, Sammo Hung, and Yuen Biao were a part of. He worked mainly as a choreographer and stuntman, so Blood Child provides a rare opportunity of witnessing him performing his own choreography in a lead role. Shi Kwan is one of the most familiar faces of kung fu cinema, featuring in everything from The Master Strikes to Iron Monkey, and his name is usually a guarantee of kung fu goodness. Interestingly this wouldn’t be the last time that Miu and Shi Kwan would work together, as they’d also collaborate over 10 years later on Yuen Biao’s Kick Boxer.

Their father, played by Chu Tiet Wo, has recently opened a courier business, and takes on a job to escort a shipment of gold. If there was ever a sign of foreboding disaster in the old-school kung fu genre, it’s usually when the good guys agree to escorting a priceless item, on a route which is guaranteed to involve an ambush in a forest. This is of course, exactly what happens, it would be a crime if it didn’t. After Golden Harvest producer Ng See Yuen’s frequent visits to Korea in the 70’s, by the time the 80’s came around it was pretty much a guarantee that, if a kung fu movie needed some high calibre kicking action, it was likely to be delivered from the boot of a Korean. Blood Child provides us with one of Korea’s finest, with the bad guy role going to Kwan Yung-moon.

Yung-moon was particularly busy in 1982, with his role in Blood Child being one of six productions that he’d feature in, including the likes of such classics as Ninja in the Dragons Den and Dragon Lord. Yung-moon isn’t the only Korean import in ‘Blood Child’ though. After laying waste to the couriers, a fight against Miu ends up in Yung-moon kicking him off the top of a cliff. This being a kung fu movie of course, being kicked off the top of a cliff doesn’t guarantee certain death. Events transpire that see Miu being discovered and nursed back to health by a kung fu master, living a solitary existence in the forest. The master is played by Hwang Jang Lee, perhaps the most famous of all the boot masters who populated the golden age of kung fu cinema. Like Yung-moon, Hwang was exceptionally busy in the early 80’s. Between 1980 – 1982 alone he featured in 21 productions, ranging from Bruceploitation flicks, Shaw Brothers productions, local Korean movies, and even making his directorial debut.

While Yung-moon and Hwang don’t actually make their appearances until the 30 minute mark, the calibre of kung fu talent involved ensures that even those clocking in purely for their presence won’t be left wanting. While Hwang is also credited as an action choreographer, he actually only has a single fight scene (more on that later), so it’s a safe assumption to say that most of the fight action was handled by Miu. There’s an instantly recognizable feel to the choreography, which tends to be the case with any action that’s provided courtesy of a Yuen clan member, in that the moment the first fight breaks out, the speed and intricacy of the movements are a joy to watch. In a pre-wedding celebration, Miu, Shi Kwan, and Tiet Wo end up facing off against a group of lackeys led by Lau Hok Nin and Lin Ke Ming. The fight constantly segues between one-on-one exchanges to one-on-multiple opponent showdowns, and the fluidity combined with the amount of chorography taking place onscreen at the same time is a reminder of just how special this era was.

When Yung-moon does appear, his presence isn’t wasted, with plenty of his ferocious kicks being dished out to whoever is unfortunate enough to be in the way of them. What I particularly liked about the fight scenes that Yung-moon features in, is that the moment his adversary manages to get one kick or punch in against him, he manages to look genuinely enraged. Sure nobody is here for these guys acting talent, but small touches like a change in facial expression during a fight scene, only go to prove just how much of a high level performers like Yung-moon were operating at. He also makes a suitably hateful villain of the piece, and mid-way through viciously rapes Lee Yi-Yi in a prison cell, resulting in her becoming pregnant with his child.

During these scenes Blood Child takes on a suitably darker tone, as learning that Yi-Yi is carrying his child, she’s kept prisoner in Yung-moon’s property, during which she’s constantly beaten by the housekeeper and attempts suicide. When she finally gives birth, events take a turn that almost send the movie into horror territory, as Yung-moon forcibly takes the baby from her, and realises she’s given birth to a deformed monstrosity. Sent into a murderous rage, we learn how Yi-Yi came to be sat outside the house at the beginning of the movie. However her misery is far from over, as Yung-moon and his weasel like assistant, effectively played by Chan Lau, arrange for her to be framed for the murder of her own child.

These scenes play out in stark contrast to those with Hwang Jang Lee, who we learn also has a vendetta against Yung-moon for some misdemeanour he did in the past. Hwang is amusingly introduced into the plot via a scene which suddenly cuts away to him running full speed towards the camera, before he launches into a flying kick against a fully grown tree, one which sends it toppling to the ground. In fact all of Hwang’s scenes have him either kicking trees, or thrusting his fingers through hanging coconuts (this scene is likely what provided the movie with its English title, Five Fingers of Steel, although technically it should be ten). It’s worth noting that the coconut setup is constructed exactly the same as John Liu’s bottle kicking training in Secret Rivals, so I couldn’t help but feel what a waste of Hwang’s kicking talents it is to have all these hanging coconuts, but for him to only poke them with his fingers. Thankfully though he does eventually unleash his kicks, so for those that wants to see some Hwang vs coconut action, you’re in the right place.

Eventually events culminate that see Miu and Shi Kwan team up to take on Yung-moon, who’s constructed an elevated wooden platform in the middle of a field, seemingly for no other reason than to have Lee Yi-Yi tied to a pole in the middle of it. As expected, the pair take a complete licking on the receiving end of Yung-moon’s kicks, until that is, Hwang Jang Lee makes a late in the day entrance into the fray. Blood Child can be considered unique in the way that, especially during this era, Hwang had a habit of suddenly showing up in final scenes as the bad guy, so to see a movie in which he suddenly shows up as the good guy is a rarity. This briefly results in a three way team up with Miu, Shi Kwan, and Hwang taking on Yung-moon, but it quickly becomes a Yung-moon vs Hwang showdown.

What’s surprising, is that the face-off between a pair of revered Korean boot-masters somehow doesn’t feel as epic as it should. For a start, once they’re left to face off against each other, the scene repeatedly cuts away to Miu and Shi Kwan attempting to untie Yi-Yi from the platform, while being hindered by Chan Lau attempting to stop them. The sound effects of the fight frustratingly play on in the background, but you can’t see it! However even during the fight itself, Hwang mostly utilises the Eagle Claw technique, choosing to scratch Yung-moon to death rather than kick him. Don’t get me wrong, the fight has plenty of kicks, but they’re often framed as stand-alone cut-away scenes, rather than part of the flowing choreography in one of their exchanges. Considering what both Hwang and Yung-moon are capable of, it would have been great to see them really go to town on each other with their boot work, but for some reason it just doesn’t happen that way.

That said, Blood Child really belongs to Miu, Shi Kwan, and Yung-moon, and despite the minor let down of the final fight, there’s enough action crammed into the rest of the runtime to satisfy those looking for some shapes based goodness. To see the least well known member of the ‘Seven Little Fortunes’ onscreen in a lead role is more than enough to recommend a viewing, and for everyone else, you have Hwang Jang Lee kicking coconuts.

Paul Bramhall’s Rating: 7/10

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“An Emperor of the Underworld” Korean Theatrical Poster

Director: Hwang Jang Lee
Writer: Im Seung-su
Cast: Dragon Lee (Mun Kyong-sok), Hwang Jang Lee, Lee Jin Young, Kim Mi Young, Hyeon Kil Su
Running Time: 87 min.

By Paul Bramhall

If there was ever a genre that could be described as having little to no exposure outside of its native country, then it’s the 90’s Korean action movie. Compared to the likes of Hong Kong and Japan’s own action cinema output during the same decade, Korea’s equivalent remains shrouded in mystery. It’s a shame, as there’s plenty of action gold to be found, however it’s a country whose film industry had little to no attention paid to it before the release of Shiri in 1999, which broke through internationally thanks to its Hollywood style aesthetic. Unfortunately, even at the time of writing more than 15 years on, only a fraction of Korean movies released before 1999 (in any genre), have made their way to DVD.

As it stands, many of the action movies that came out during the 90’s received a release on Korean VHS, and that’s it. To confound matters even further, a significant number of them didn’t receive a theatrical release, instead going direct-to-VHS, and often such titles aren’t even listed on the notoriously difficult to navigate Korean Move Database. Much of the reasoning behind this is that the action genre was treated much the same as Japan’s equivalent in the 70’s. Karate movies were quickly filmed productions, often featuring heavy doses of exploitation, and were never made with the thought that there’d be an audience who’d want to check them out several decades later.

Many of Korea’s own action output in the 90’s could be considered to fall into the same category. During the 80’s erotic film became hugely popular, and the end of the decade coincided with many of the Korean stars, who’d been busy delivering their boot work in the Hong Kong kung fu movie boom of the 70’s and 80’s, returning home. Hwang Jang Lee, Casanova Wong, and Dragon Lee – a trio of instantly recognizable names to any kung fu cinema fan – were all back on Korean soil in the 90’s, and all of them made their final film appearances during the decade while working in Korea. With period movies long gone out of fashion, the gangster flick quickly became the go-to genre for some Taekwondo style action. Fedora hats, oversized shoulder pads, and bulky suits came to define the 90’s Korean gangster flick, which often served up fight scenes and nudity in equal measure.

It could be said that 1994 was a year of particular significance. Casanova Wong, the star of such Hong Kong classics as Warriors Two and The Master Strikes, would make his last screen appearance in, as well as directing, the violent gangster flick Bloody Mafia. Hwang Jang Lee, who needs no introduction, would also mark his last significant screen appearance, in a movie which, like Casanova Wong, he’d also direct, titled Emperor of the Underworld. It’s worth noting that many sources list the 1996 Korean movie, Boss, as Hwang’s final movie appearance, and while this is true, his screen-time clocks in at barely a minute, with a role that’s purely dialogue.

Hwang had directed himself before, most memorably playing the clean shaven good guy in Hitman in the Hand of Buddha in 1981, and as the conflicted anti-hero a couple of years later in Canton Viper. Emperor of the Underworld though marks the first time he doesn’t cast himself as the lead, instead opting to take the villain role. The lead goes to another familiar face from the world of kung fu cinema, Dragon Lee. Both Hwang and Lee had worked together before, on both the likes of old school Korean kung fu movies such as Secret Ninja, Roaring Tiger and 5 Pattern Dragon Claws, as well as in another 90’s action movie, the second installment of The Nationwide Constituency trilogy.

The plot for Emperor of the Underworld is straight forward stuff. Lee is a marine who has a reputation for getting the job done, shown in a pre-credit sequence that has him storming a criminal hideout, decked out in all black fatigues with machine gun in hand. Any movie that starts off with Dragon Lee armed with a machine gun has already earnt instant favour with me. However once he’s discharged, he finds himself stalked by the police. It turns out they want to infiltrate a violent gang, one that’s working in conjunction with some evil Japanese property developers, and Dragon Lee seems to be the guy for the job. He agrees to take on the mission, on the condition that his friend is released from prison so that they can work together. However when it turns out that their former colleague, a girl Lee used to be close to (played by So Bia, an actress who was known for the erotic movies she starred in during the 80’s and 90’s), is also working for the gang, the situation gets complicated.

Despite the simplistic plot, it’s told effectively, and it’s refreshing to see a Dragon Lee movie being told entirely poker faced from start to finish. Despite being over 15 years since the peak of his career in movies like Enter the Invincible Hero, he’s still instantly recognizable and in great shape. Several lackeys end up on the receiving end of Lee’s fists during the run time, and at one point, for no other reason than to intimidate a group of thugs who are threatening him, he flips a stationery car over with his bare hands. The scene is so random that it’s difficult not to appreciate. I’m also unsure if it was an intentional homage or not, but when he’s first discharged from the army, he visits a nightclub to meet his old colleague, carrying a rucksack of his belongings slung over his shoulder. I’ve personally lost count of the number of Dragon Lee movies I’ve seen, which have him wandering the countryside with nothing but a rucksack slung over his shoulder! It’s like it was his permanent prop.

The nightclub scenes are also notable, purely for the fact that the music playing in the background, an American rap song, has some of the most obscene lyrics I’ve ever heard in a movie (or anywhere). It became a little difficult to concentrate when Lee was having a serious conversation with his old friend, when all you can hear in the background is the rapper distinctly announcing that he was “gonna put my d*ck in your behind.” I’m sure some MC Hammer would have been much more suitable.

Hwang Jang Lee himself doesn’t make an appearance until the 55 minute mark. Playing a former colleague who feels heavily indebted to the gang boss, he agrees to become the chief enforcer. When events transpire that see the gangsters retaliating against Lee and his colleague by killing their mentor, it’s time to serve up some 90’s style Korean action movie revenge. The lead-up to the finale somewhat echoes the finale of A Better Tomorrow 2, as Lee leads a funeral march with the coffin of his mentor up to gates of the gangsters mansion, in which Hwang Jang Lee and the other gang members are wining and dining on the front lawn. Thankfully as well as bringing the coffin, they also brought along a machine gun, in a scene which perhaps has the record for number of bullets fired without managing to hit a single solid object.

The showdown eventually culminates in a face-off between Dragon Lee and Hwang Jang Lee, which has them going at it on the lawn, in a pond, and finishing off in one of Korea’s many mud flats. For anyone that’s seen the Korean flick Rough Cut, it’s a possibility that the idea for that movies similar ending, which has the two main characters slugging it out on a similar mud flat, came from here. Like any good Dragon Lee movie, he ends up shirtless, and covers himself in mud, using it’s slipperiness to deflect Hwang’s lethal kicks. While it’s easy to argue that the choreography of the fight, and the action as a whole in Emperor of the Underworld, is far from matching that of the pairs work at their physical peaks, it’s never anything less than entertaining.

Best of all (or worse, depending on how you look at it), is that whenever Lee gets involved in a fight, he immediately switches to Bruceploitation mode – flicking his nose, staying light on his feet, and breaking out Bruce’s famous facial expressions whenever he hits someone. It’s almost as if he doesn’t know how to fight any other way, it’s simply become ingrained. Far from being detrimental to the story though, the scenes remind us that we’re watching a Dragon Lee flick, and how much we would have missed it if there hadn’t been a single nose flick in sight. These types of production can never be considered anything more than B-movies, a fact that’s no doubt contributed to securing their obscurity, but Emperor of the Underworld sets out to do exactly what it says on the tin – deliver a tale of macho gangsters and people being punched. I only wish there was more of them to choose from.

Paul Bramhall’s Rating: 7/10

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“Shaolin: The Blood Mission” Korean Theatrical Poster

Director: Park Woo-sang
Writer: Hong Chi-Yun
Cast: Hwang Jang Lee, Ho Kei Cheong, Suen Kwok Ming, Poon Cheung, Luo Hua-Sheng, Olivia Hung, Park Dong-yeol, Lee Jin-Yeong, Kim Ki-Bum
Running Time: 85 min.

By Paul Bramhall

The name of Korean director Park Woo-sang may not be immediately familiar to many, and understandably so. However once the filmmaker immigrated to America, he continued to direct under a different name – Richard Park – and for those who know their B-movie cinema, chances are that this alias should ring a bell. From the mid-80’s Park terrorized the B-movie circuit with such titles as L.A. Streetfighters, American Chinatown, and most famously thanks to the recent Drafthouse Films release, Miami Connection.

Before his immigration stateside though, under his original name of Park Woo-sang he directed a number of decent Korean kung fu movies. From the Korean version of Zatoichi, with the 1971 flick The Blind Swordsman, through to the likes of the Casanova Wong starring Strike of Thunderkick Tiger. Shaolin: The Blood Mission, was the last movie he made in Korea (the original Korean title is The Fourth Largest Shaolin Temple), and as with so many Korean kung fu movies of the era, it was bought up by Godfrey Ho and Tomas Tang’s IFD Films for international distribution, and given an English dub.

What separates Shaolin: The Blood Mission from many of the Korean productions that Ho and Tang bought up, is that it quickly becomes clear the movie is a co-production between Korea and Hong Kong, long before their interference. Numerous familiar faces from Hong Kong populate the production, such as Yen Shi Kwan is listed as action director, the main character is a monk played by Suen Kwok Ming, and Ho Kei Cheong appears as a prominent villain. Outside of the principal cast members though, the rest of the performers in Shaolin: The Blood Mission are exceptionally difficult to find any information on. Sites like the Korean Movie Database, the Hong Kong Movie Database, HKcinemagic, and IMDB all return blanks on elaborating beyond a handful of actors.

It’s a shame, because two of the unnamed members from the trio of monks that make up the protagonists are remarkably skilled, and appear to be Wushu practitioners. The guy who plays the shorter monk in particular is highly acrobatic, throwing in various exciting somersaults and flips whenever he’s in action. The third monk is the most muscular of the trio, but again moves with speed and displays some quality talent handling weapons. There’s also an additional character, a rebel who comes to the aide of the monks, who shows off a formidable range of kicks and has some great fast paced fight scenes. However all remain uncredited when exploring the usual avenues to look up information on these productions.

The movie itself starts off with a bang. Before the credits have even appeared, Hwang Jang Lee storms down the pathway leading up to the palace steps, carrying a cloth covered severed head in one hand, all set to the shower scene soundtrack from Psycho. It’s a double whammy, not only is it a great way to make an entrance, but it’s also a great way to start a movie! A familiar plot is soon revealed – there’s a list which details rebels against the Ching Dynasty, and Hwang Jang Lee is tasked to find it, of course leading to the Shaolin Temple which is believed to be harboring both rebels and the list in question.

After a failed directing gig at Shaw Brothers, Hwang worked almost exclusively in his native Korea from late 1982, before returning to Hong Kong and making Where’s Officer Tuba? with Sammo Hung in 1986. Even though many fans consider Korean productions to be a class below their Hong Kong equivalents, which to a large degree is true, what can’t be complained about is the screen time Hwang got in his Korean movies. While many Hong Kong productions would have him randomly pop up in the finale, as a previously hardly seen villain (see Ninja in the Dragons Den and Tower of Death for prime examples), his Korean productions usually had him in prominent roles. Shaolin: The Blood Mission is no different, giving his villain character plenty of opportunities to let loose with his famous kicks.

Korean movies are also known for their slightly left of field antics, and here fans of the wacky won’t be left disappointed. At one point Hwang and his villainous cohort, played by Ho Kei Cheong, are playing a game of chess. However it’s no ordinary game of chess, sitting in high chairs at either end of a huge board drawn onto the ground, scantily clad ladies wearing see through gowns are the pieces, and Hwang instructs his pieces to move by whipping the lady in question. The eliminated piece is usually greeted by being stabbed in the chest, hardly the gentleman’s game it has the reputation to be! There’s also a bizarre scene were the abbot of the temple reveals he’s been hiding a book for a number of years, by having it stitched into his back! Removing it involves a rather gory scene of him having his back sliced open to remove the book from under his skin, after which he promptly dies. If anything, it certainly ensures that the scenes between the fights never get dull.

Of course the fights are really what kung fu movies are all about, and Shaolin: The Blood Mission is a pleasant surprise in this department. After a rocky start, which almost seems like it’s going to be an intolerable comedy, things turn serious pretty quickly, and the action comes thick and fast. As mentioned, the monks appear to be being played by genuine Wushu practitioners, so plenty of acrobatics and weapons work are included in the fight sequences. I believe this is the only movie which really pits Hwang Jang Lee’s kicks against the flowery flourishes of the highly stylized but visually stunning Wushu. The contrast between his powerful and disciplined kicking, to the monks flips and fluidity of movement, makes for a number of unique and thrilling confrontations.

Both the three central monks and Hwang Jang Lee also get their own individual chances to shine. The monks in an exam which pits them against each other, allowing for both opponents to display their physical dexterity, and Hwang in one particular scene in which he wades through a small army of monks from the temple, dispatching them with some fierce footwork. Events transpire to culminate in a fantastic three on one, as a spear wielding Suen Kwok Ming, the acrobatic monk, and the boot-master rebel team up to take on Hwang’s ferocious villain. It’s a long and exhausting fight, one in which every performer gets to do their thing. What I particularly liked about it is that mid-way through, it appears that the good guys are gaining the advantage, at which point Hwang ramps up his kicking to the next level, and as a result the whole fight gets turned up a notch.

Throw in rebels getting blown up with dynamite, monks being impaled by flaming arrows, and a chicken losing its head, and Shaolin: The Blood Mission certainly lives up to its title. There are some deaths that would even make Chang Cheh proud, a compliment that any kung fu movie should be happy to receive. While the dubbing and editing of the plot may sometimes leave you scratching your head, no doubt due to Godfrey Ho’s involvement rather than any fault of the original production, there’s enough solid fight action on display to more than warrant a watch. If you’ve contemplated watching Shaolin: The Blood Mission before but decided to give it a miss, hopefully this review will make you re-consider, but if it doesn’t, I’ll ask the same question that at one point the Abbot asks the monks – “Are you totally out of your skull?”

Paul Bramhall’s Rating: 7.5/10

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“Bruce Strikes Back” Theatrical Poster

AKA: Eye of the Dragon
Director: Joseph Kong, Bruce Le
Co-director: Jean-Marie Pallardy
Cast: Bruce Le (aka Huang Kin Long, Wong Kin Lung), Hwang Jang Lee, Casanova Wong, Harold Sakata, Bolo Yeung, Chick Norris, Fabienne Beze, Andre Koob, Monica Lam, Jean-Marie Pallardy, Dick Randall
Running Time: 111 min.

By Paul Bramhall

American producer Dick Randall’s name is synonymous with the exploitation genre, having a career which spanned 3 decades, from the early 60’s to the early 90’s he made a slew of entertainingly low budget B-movies. Be it giallo thrillers, slasher flicks, soft-core sleaze, or mondo-documentaries, whatever was popular at the time, Randall got in on. The kung fu genre was no different, and in 1980 he somehow created the unlikely pairing of Bruce Lee imitator, Bruce Le, and Godfrey Ho’s favorite white guy ninja, Richard Harrison. The movie was Challenge of the Tiger, and in a plot to foil a terrorist group who’ve stolen a formula with the power to kill sperm (yes you read correctly), Le and Harrison head to Spain and battle through crazed bulls, Hwang Jang Lee, and other assorted bad guys.

A couple of years on, Randall and Le unite once more for Bruce Strikes Back. Several faces also return from their previous collaboration, including Hwang Jang Lee and Bolo. Notably Le seems to have dug up his wardrobe from Challenge of the Tiger, strutting around in the same white blazer jacket and oversized shades as he did a couple of years prior, but he wears them well so it’s forgivable. Bruce Strikes Back is also much bigger in scope, with Le globetrotting around Italy, France, Hong Kong, and Macau. While he’s lost his partner Harrison, who was probably off fighting the Ninja Empire at this time, Le does get temporarily paired up with a French cop, played by André Koob, and his partner, played by Randall’s wife Corliss Randall (hilariously credited as Chick Norris).

Much like Challenge of the Tiger, Bruce Le is again listed as the fight choreographer and co-director, this time paired with frequent collaborator Joseph Velasco. Velasco (usually credited as Joseph Kong) and Le worked on countless Bruceploitation pictures together, from My Name Called Bruce in 1978 through to Bruce’s Secret Kung Fu in 1988. True to form, in Bruce Strikes Back Le also gets to play a character imaginatively called, wait for it, Bruce. The plot is standard stuff – Le and Hwang Jang Lee play best of friends working for the Chinese mafia in Rome, however when an exchange goes wrong, Hwang gets away and Le is left to take the rap. After serving his jail time, Le’s seen the error of his ways and decides to go straight, however the mafia won’t have any of it. Soon he’s being pursued by Hwang Jang Lee and mob boss Sakata, who is played by Harold Sakata, better known as Odd Job from the 007 franchise !

Sakata even gets to wear the famous steel rimmed hat as he did in Goldfinger 18 years prior, and for good measure has a bronze hand cast that fits on his hand. The cast is the most ridiculous weapon I’ve ever seen, it’s literally just a cast, immobile in every way, like an overly heavy fly swatter. However it seems to do the job of striking fear into any one who questions his authority, as witnessed when he brings it out in front of Bolo, and with a quivery voice the muscle man is reduced to begging, “Please, put that away!” The pairing of Sakata and Bolo as the bad guys also matches with the whole Enter the Dragon meets ‘007’ theme that the movie appears to be stretching for. Musical cues from both movies are used throughout, and you’re never quite sure if the next scene is going to be influenced by Bruce Lee or James Bond.

Thankfully Bruce Strikes Back happily goes off in its own crazy direction more than enough during its compact 80 minute run time. Female nudity is prevalent throughout, and within the first 4 minutes we’ve already been introduced to the bad guy’s mansion, mainly through images of topless women frolicking around the pool. Not to mention the tigers. For the duration of the movie any scene taking place in the mansion comes with a gratuitous topless shot of some well endowed female. By far the most out there scene though comes during a chase sequence through Paris, of which it turns out the destination is an apartment in which a lesbian porno movie is being filmed, in 3D! At least that’s what the director shouts that he wants. The sequence spends more time on the two women, awkwardly fumbling about naked on top of each other, than it does the pursuit itself. When Le eventually gets there, it turns out it’s the wrong apartment! You have to love the exploitation genre.

Speaking of exploitation, the bad guy’s mansion also contains a Bob Wall imitator within its grounds, which possibly make this the first movie to feature a case of Bob Wallspolitation? The scene also deserves a special mention which has the French cop attempting to interrogate a subject by drowning him in a urinal. Somehow everyone working on the production failed to point out that, whose ever idea it was to modify the ‘head in the toilet bowl’ concept to a ‘head in a urinal’ one, the physics of it simply don’t work. But kudos to the actor suffering the interrogation, he does a great job of looking terrified as his face is pressed to the ceramic surface of the urinal, a small trickle of water streaming down his cheek every time the French cop hits the little flush button.

Eventually plot points transpire to propel the movie forward. The daughter of the US ambassador in Italy, played by Randall himself, has been kidnapped, and Le suspects it’s his old cohorts who are behind it. After running into a dead end in Paris, he follows a lead to Hong Kong, only to find his sister there has also been kidnapped. Le’s been spending most of the movie up until this point convincing his Italian girlfriend to come with him to Hong Kong, mostly set to panpipe versions of such classics as ‘Bridge Over Troubled Water’ and ‘Morning Has Broken,’ however it would be a spoiler to say if she joins him or not. In an unexpected turn of events though, when he meets his sister’s boyfriend, the character is played by Casanova Wong.

This leads to an unexpectedly enjoyable scene of Le and Wong teaming up to take on a pair of ninjas in a cemetery, and it’s also worth mentioning an especially well put together scene of when Le goes solo against a disappearing ninja. The sequence has been cut in such a way that it looks like Le is seamlessly performing his choreography, and that whenever the ninja teleports to a different spot around him, his blows land on him perfectly. It would be easy to do with today effects (see Rain vs. Sho Kosugi in the finale of Ninja Assassin), but to see it in 1982, in what’s essentially an old school kung fu flick, it was entertaining to watch just how well it was executed.

As Le gets closer to the truth, events transpire to see him back where it all started, in Rome, Italy. He gets to square off against Sakata, which includes the use of the deadly hat that will be forever associated with Odd Job (and the brass hand cast gets some action as well), however a Bruceploitation flick with a finale set in Rome was only ever going to go one way, and Bruce Strikes Back doesn’t disappoint. Decked out all in black, Hwang Jang Lee awaits Le in the coliseum, and just like Bruce Lee and Chuck Norris had their epic showdown 10 years earlier, the Korean super kicker and former Shaw Brothers actor go toe to toe in the legendary arena. Apart from the obligatory fists and kicks, the fight also comes with a healthy dose of eagle and tiger sound effects, x-ray vision bone breakages, and for anyone who ever wanted to see an animated version of Hwang Jang Lee’s heart, this movie has it.

Bruce Strikes Back may be Bruceploitation, and there’s little doubt that anyone would class it as anything other than a B-movie. But to see Bruce Le punching and kicking his way through Italy, France, and Hong Kong, with a cast that includes names like Hwang Jang Lee, Casanova Wong, and Bolo, for any discerning kung fu fan the movie should provide a good time. For everyone else, there’s gratuitous nudity and Odd Job, not necessarily in that order.

Paul Bramhall’s Rating: 7.5/10

The post Bruce Strikes Back | aka The Ninja Strikes Back (1982) Review first appeared on cityonfire.com.

“The Invincible Armour” Chinese Theatrical Poster

Director: Ng See Yuen
Producer: Chor Yuen
Cast: John Liu Chung Liang, Hwang Jang Lee, Tino Wong Cheung, Lee Hoi San, Philip Ko Fei, Corey Yuen Kwai, Yuen Shun Yee, Yuen Biao, Hsu Hsia
Running Time: 101 min.

By Matthew Le-feuvre

The collaborative effort in reuniting two of the world’s most celebrated kicking technicians was no light work for independent producer, Ng See Yuen. His previous trendsetter The Secret Rivals (1976) and its well received sequel set the tone for a new type of action spectacle: the breathtaking craft of aerial impact kicking. Naturally this resounding success would become something of a leading concept that fellow producers’ zealously tried too exploit, but ultimately failed to sustain because of changing trends, and the approaching 1980’s. However by the time he’d established ‘The Seasonal Film Corporation’ in 1975, Yuen was already a former Shaw Brothers executive before turning his creative attentions to freelance direction.

Although in essence a calm, influential and clearly a resourceful entrepreneur, Yuen’s five year contract at the Clearwater Bay studio was not a happy one. In earnest, he tried very hard too secure film negotiations with future Legend, Bruce Lee, for a traditional feature entitled The Bloody Fists (1972), yet was unable to convince backers – including Sir Run Run Shaw – of Lee’s dynamic potential.

Nevertheless Yuen endeavoured to carve out a niche for himself, seeking and promoting fresh talent such as Taiwanese marvel, John Liu and south Korean stalwart, Hwang Jang Lee. Both of course have matured into formidable icons on the South-Eastern circuits, while in the West they’ve been oppositely regulated to a lesser category due to poor distribution and a flaccid, if not incongruous, marketing ploy. Another factor is they (each) retired from the film industry early on in their respective careers to pursue not just business investments, but also martial ascension; this meant an inordinate amount of time power kicking trees for Hwang and expressing the stillness of the mind for Liu, who inventively fused ‘Zen’ principles to his art.

For some time speculations often arose as too Liu’s whereabouts, unlike Hwang – who opened a chain of Hotels in Seoul, and a factory which to this day manufactures golfing accessories. Liu on the other hand, allegedly, fell victim to Triad backed creditors, and a scheme where outrageous percentage grosses had too be forfeited on insueing film projects. Liu opposed these terms and promptly disappeared.

As a result, gossip columns systematically erupted furnishing all sorts of countless rumours and baseless claims. Few sources dispassionately went as far as officially announcing Liu’s premature death (or homicide). Undoubtedly libel, Liu in actuality had relocated to Paris accompanied by his wife and young daughter. Since then, Liu has emerged from self exile to appear in numerous international productions heralding his all too familiar split kick, a technique developed from the regimental teachings of another cult 70’s super booter, Tan Tao Liang.

Before he, too, made the transition from a practising martial artist to an actor of some distinction, Liang was a hardcore Taekwondo competitor who invariably earned high points by implementing an uniquely challenging hop kick to disorientate (his) opponents. Enamoured with this tactical advantage, Liu – a teenager at the time – bartered menial tasks as payment for tutelage from Liang. Tough and innovative, “Flash Legs” as he came to be known transformed Liu from a shy, introspective youth with limited flexibility into a phenomenal exponent of Taekwondo.

Contrarily, Hwang’s martial arts origins were notably less prosaic, but more of the dramatic as he found himself aged 15 moving to South Korea from his native Japan where he obsessively began studying (both) a branch of Taekwondo called ‘Taekyon’ and traditional boxing. Seven years on, he had graduated to the rank of 7th Dan, and was concurrently instructing ‘Republican’ troops in an ongoing feat to thwart communist incursions.

If nothing else these biographical juxtapositions deserve respect. It was something Ng See Yuen took into consideration during casting sessions. Indeed, the loyalty and professionalism of these two outstanding stars was a financial catalyst that Yuen was able too repeatedly capitalize on, even though critics’ mauled and carped about the integrity of his work.

Surprisingly up to this point in the HK/Taiwanese film industry meditations on Wu Xia theatre was waning in favour of empty fist revenge dramas and The Invincible Armour was one of those atypical examples that fell into a particular grade of uncompromising splendor – a diversion into the simplistic (and) image laden realms where subtle, strong visuals rules the eye before mindful contemplation: a deliberate tactic or an unassuming disadvantage? Either way, following a lengthy prologue explaining both the origins and implementation of ‘Iron Vest Kung Fu’ (aka Invincible Armour), Hwang Jang Lee energetically demonstrates his awesome ‘Eagles Claw’ as well as kicking pliability in a sequence of pre-arranged maneuvers on various sized ceramic pots, wooden stumps, bamboo shafts, spears and chain-suspended spiked globes.

Instantaneously we’re made aware of Hwang’s villainous ambitions as he soaks his entire body (a la Fu Sheng) in a frothing, vapor-filled cauldron. Years later we learn Hwang – character referenced as ‘Chen’ – is a corrupt ‘Minister of State’ whose politics lean towards the dissolution of the Ming Dynasty. To cause fractures within the administration, Chen hires a greedy opportunist named Hu Loong (Li Hoi San) to assassinate his respected peer, Governor Liu, while simultaneously incriminating loyalist, General Chow Lu Fong (John Liu).

Detained without due process, Fong eludes the death sentence in a blistering whirlwind assault of cresent, hook and snap kicks on his biased captors. It is here he pledges to exonerate his name, and bring the real perpetrator to justice: Fong’s only link is Hu Loong, who he adamantly pursues across country, between dodging additional contract killers (as played by Yuen Biao, Corey Yuen and Yuen Shum Yi), clan sympathizers and Loong’s impartial Sifu (Philip Ko Fei).

Vexed by Fong’s investigative capabilities and fighting tenacity, Chen engages renowned bounty hunter, Sheng Yu (Tino Wong), to deliver Fong for capital punishment. However with each encounter, Sheng begins to suspect that Fong and himself are expendable pawns in a greater conspiracy, which now includes Chen’s duplicitous aid and, incidentally, two siblings who may hold the key to disabling the Minister’s Chi Kung flow, via five vulnerable pressure points.

To the uninitiated The Invincible Armour may appear as a pageant to superficiality (and perhaps even absent of depth), yet this veneer does have its merits – escapism for one. Nonetheless Ng See Yuen’s work has neither been about anti-political rantings or social commentary. Essentially it’s the dynamic combination of two diverse kicking methods, a selling point that imbues every sequence with a kind of requisite fortitude; for instance Hwang’s signature jumping triple kicks or Liu’s jaw dropping tornado-like moves compensates for the lack of character development. And despite erratic plot twists, Invincible Armour is otherwise intensely stunning, downbeat and fiercely hypnotic.

Matthew Le-feuvre’s Rating: 9/10

The post Invincible Armour (1977) Review first appeared on cityonfire.com.

“Tiger Over Wall” Theatrical Poster

Director: Tony Liu Jun Guk
Producer: Alex Gouw
Cast: Philip Ko Fei, Kong Do, Chu Tiet Wo, Hwang Jang Lee, Cheung Lik, Candy Wen, Chan Lau
Running Time: 91 min.

By Paul Bramhall

There’s a certain familiarity to watching an old school kung fu movie, in that you tend to know exactly what you’re going to get. A villain has killed a teacher, and the student vows to get revenge. A villain has killed a family member, and the surviving relative vows to get revenge. A villain has killed someone who has a loose connection to someone else, and that someone else vows to get revenge. It’s a tried and tested formula, and the rule of thumb seems to be that as long as we get a healthy dose of exciting fight action, the sub-standard plots can be forgiven.

So with Tiger Over Wall, apart from having a title which resembles a grammatical car crash, it’s refreshing to get a plot which takes a different approach from the norm. As the bombastic music plays over the opening credits, you can’t help but also notice the sound of a dog barking in what sounds like an empty room, which has been mixed over the music at equal volume. It’s quite jarring. This however is the closest we get to a dog for the rest of the movie, as proceedings open on a middle aged British diplomat and his Chinese mistress realizing that their treasured boxer dog, Rover, has gone missing.

Soon enough they’re questioning the nearest passerby to see if they’ve seen the precious Rover, and when the poor sap reveals he hasn’t, he ends up getting beaten by the diplomat, while the mistress cheerfully yells in the background, “That’s right! Beat him! Kick the bastard harder! Kick him ‘till he’s dead! Kick him! Go on!” Things escalate, and within the first 15 minutes, the chief of police – played by Korean kicking legend Hwang Jang Lee – has been called in to try and find the dog, threatening to arrest anyone who doesn’t help with the investigation.

There we have the plot of Tiger Over Wall – the police try to find a white guy’s missing dog. As ridiculous as this may sound, the events are actually based on a true story that took place in Shanghai during 1919. The fact that the dog belonged to a foreign diplomat resulted in the police getting involved, however I’m sure that’s as far as the similarities go.

The movie is directed by Tony Liu Jun Guk, and while his name may not be as familiar as other directors working around the same period, he’s arguably been behind several classic slices of kung fu. Jun Guk hit his stride a few years after making Tiger Over Wall, when while working for the Shaw Brothers studio he made several high energy, slightly off the wall, kung fu movies such as Holy Flame of the Martial World, Bastard Swordsman, and Secret Service of the Imperial Court. As the 90’s beckoned he moved into the Girls with Guns genre, directing a number of Moon Lee starring action fests like Devil Hunters, Dreaming the Reality, and Angel Terminators 2.

Jun Guk enlisted fight choreographer Dang Tak Cheung to stage the action for Tiger Over Wall, and Tak Cheung’s resume makes for just as impressive reading as the director himself. Like Jun Guk, Tak Cheung also liked to work on the slightly more off the wall side of the kung-fu movie world, choreographing the likes of Kung Fu Zombie, and the insane Shaw Brothers production Buddha’s Palm. While working at Shaw Brothers Dak Cheung got the opportunity to have full control on a couple of productions, which led to him directing, writing, and choreographing the late-Shaw era movies Demon of the Lute and Long Road to Gallantry, both of which are personal favorites.

With such talent behind the camera, to really make a great old-school kung-fu movie, you need to have an equal amount of talent in front of it. Thankfully Tiger Over Wall does, who come in the form of Philip Ko, and the previously mentioned Hwang Jang Lee. Both are ably backed up by such familiar old school faces as Kong Do, Chu Tiet Wo, Cheung Lik, and even the director himself shows up as an assassin for hire. Both Philip Ko and Hwang Jang Lee have so many classics between them that it would be impossible to do them justice in just a few lines. Ko, arguably the master of the ‘shapes’ style of choreography, was on fire in 1980, also starring in The Loot and Snake Deadly Act to name but a couple, while Hwang, often referred to as the king of leg fighters, also cranked out classics like The Buddha Assassinator and Challenge of the Tiger in the same year.

In an era where we’re happy just to have one good kung fu movie a year, it’s easy to forget that in the golden era we had several stars making several movies every year, year in year out. It’s a time that will likely never be rivaled in terms of productivity and output, but at least it leaves us with plenty to choose from. In Tiger Over Wall Ko plays the guy who has to see not only his girlfriend’s poor family, but also his teacher, end up getting roped into taking the fall for the missing dog, under false promises of money or business permits. As he’s forced to watch his nearest and dearest be lied to, beaten up, and tortured, things begin to boil over until he can’t take anymore, and he begins to bust out the moves that we’ve all been waiting for.

It’s worth noting that Tiger Over Wall certainly doesn’t rush its fight scenes. Indeed for the first 50 minutes, with the exception of a few brief scuffles by Ko and the constant threat of violence, there’s actually no substantial fight action. Thankfully the hilarious English dub more than makes up for it, providing plenty of unintentional laughs as Hwang Jang Lee storms into various establishments yelling “WHERE’S THE BOXER DOG!?” The absurdity of it never wears off, and keeps proceedings moving along nicely. However at the 50 minute mark Ko gets to explode, taking on Kong Do in an awesome shapes fest involving fists, feet, and a pair of umbrellas. It’s fast, fluid, and sets off a buildup of action which doesn’t stop until the credits roll.

While you’ll often see discussions which talk about how great it would be if certain stars of the old school era had faced off against each other but never did, movies like Tiger Over Wall make you thankful that a movie exists in which, yes, kung fu legends like Philip Ko and Hwang Jang Lee actually do get to face off against each other. And for those who are worried, don’t be, it doesn’t fail to impress. The finale is lengthy and exhausting, as the pair start off with Ko armed with a staff and Hwang armed with a guandao, before segueing into an empty handed showdown of tiger claw versus mantis fist. There’s a part when the two opponents briefly move their fight indoors, and you’d swear Hwang had never learnt to tame his kicks for screen fighting, as every one of them looks like if it made contact it would take Ko’s head off.

What’s so great about Ko and Hwang is that they not only had the moves, but they also had an intensity behind them. When they fight it doesn’t just look like they’re performing finely tuned choreography to perfection, it looks like they really want to kill each other. These guys could perform intricate displays of choreography, and act at the same time, and that’s talent. By the time they’re through with each other, I can guarantee that you’ll have completely forgotten about wondering what became of Rover the boxer dog, which is just as well, as it appears the director did as well.

Paul Bramhall’s Rating: 8/10

Full disclosure: I watched Tiger Over Wall as part of the Brooklyn Zu Vol. 1 9-Movie set which was released by US based label Ground Zero in 2004. The movie was released in the UK by the now defunct Vengeance Video label in 2006 in its original Mandarin language with burnt-in English subtitles, and claims to be fully uncut. While there are no obvious cuts in the Brooklyn Zu version, I have seen discussion in which people talk about a character being on the receiving end of a 360 degree neck snap, which I’m sure wasn’t in the version I saw. On a note of personal preference, I would have to say that I wouldn’t have enjoyed the movie half as much had it not had the English dub, which offers many moments of unintentional hilarity that I’m sure wouldn’t be found with the original audio.

The post Tiger Over Wall (1980) Review first appeared on cityonfire.com.

“Future Hunters” VHS Cover

AKA: Spear of Destiny
Director: Cirio H. Santiago
Cast: Robert Patrick, Linda Carol, Ed Crick, Bob Schott, David Light, Paul Holmes, Peter Shilton, Ursula Marquez, Elizabeth Oropesa, Bruce Le (aka Huang Kin Long, Wong Kin Lung), Hwang Jang Lee, Richard Norton, Mike Abbott
Running Time: 96 min.

By Paul Bramhall

There are some movies which simple defy normal comprehension, and even before reading any sort of synopsis, just by looking at the cast you can tell Future Hunters is going to be one of them. Brought to the screen by the same team that would make Mission Terminate a year later, Future Hunters is helmed by Cirio H. Santiago, a somewhat legendary figure in the Filipino film industry. The son of Dr. Ciriaco Santiago, who founded the Premiere Productions studio in Manila way back in 1946, Cirio would go on to become one of the most recognized names in the world of B-movies, making everything from Blaxploitation, to low budget Vietnam war flicks, to kung fu movies.

Future Hunters somehow seems to escape fitting into any single genre, instead coming across as some kind of half baked version of The Terminator meets Mad Max meets Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. I normally try to stay away from going into in-depth plot descriptions when I review, but in this case it’s the nature of the plot which essentially defines my opinion of the movie, so bear with me and we’ll see how things turn out.

Proceedings open in a barren desert landscape with one of the greatest voiceovers I’ve ever heard, which explains that the year is 2025 and the holocaust has wiped out all of mankind, leaving only the few to scavenge for what they can. However amongst the despair and desperation, there is one man who can put mankind back on track, that man’s name is – Matthew. For reasons never explained, the only way to get mankind back on track is to find the spear that pierced the body of Christ, which will allow whoever finds it to go back in time and stop the holocaust from ever happening.

Matthew, as it turns out, is played by everyone’s favorite Australian, Richard Norton. Yes long before he was in A-list Hong Kong productions facing off against the likes of Jackie Chan, Sammo Hung and Cynthia Rothrock, Norton was making movies like this one. He bursts onto the screen looking like a bearded version of Mad Max, even driving an almost identical car, as a high speed car chase in the desert unfolds which eventually leads to Norton left with nothing more than his leather waistcoat and pants, oh, and his studded belt. Nothing says post-apocalyptic landscape like a studded belt.

Pursued by a small army of foot soldiers, a few tanks, and a fleet of cars, without saying a word Norton wipes out virtually a whole town full of bad guys using his fists, feet, and a machine gun, before thankfully stumbling across the spearhead in question, just before the whole building that he’s sheltering in is blown to smithereens. This whole sequence is the first 10 minutes, and the titles haven’t even rolled yet. Yes these types of movies are undeniably of the B variety, but you have to give them credit for fitting more action into the first 10 minutes than you find in a whole finale of an Expendables movie!

After the titles do roll, things go all Terminator-ish and Norton wakes up to find he’s in 1986, all be it in the exact same spot we last saw him. Displaying no signs of confusion whatsoever, he’s soon rescuing a young couple from a trio of rowdy bikers, with the couple in question being played by Linda Carol, you know, the actress from Carnal Crimes, and her boyfriend is none other than Robert Patrick. Yes, that Robert Patrick, as in the guy who 5 years into the future from this movie, would play the T-1000 in Terminator 2. Something strange is going on here. Back to Norton though, he’s no sooner appeared that he’s shot and mortally wounded, leaving him to deliver a completely incomprehensible speech thanks to his rather broad Aussie accent, but which we can assume is something along the lines of “Use the spear to stop the holocaust that wipes out mankind mate!”

Through some inconsequential exposition, the actress from Carnal Crimes and the T-1000 hightail it to Hong Kong, where they believe a professor resides who knows the secret to the spear. In this section of the movie things get really strange. The couple are picked up from the airport by a taxi driver, a taxi driver played by Bruce Le! Le explains to them some nonsense about how he may know someone that can help them called the Silver Fox who guards a temple. Wait, isn’t that the name of Hwang Jang Lee’s character in classic kung fu movies like The Secret Rivals? It is, but don’t worry about that as nothing much makes sense here anyway. Le also seems to have been dubbed by two different people, so half the conversation he sounds like the constipated Filipino that dubbed him in Mission Terminate, and the other half he sounds like a British gentleman with a stiff upper lip. It’s all a little disconcerting.

Soon they arrive at the temple, but when I say they, I just mean the T-1000 and Bruce Le, as the actress from Carnal Crimes has disappeared with no explanation. They meet the Silver Fox, and bizarrely, it is Hwang Jang Lee! He’s not so willing to give out information though, which leads to one of the most WTF moments in cinema history, as we’re treated to a 2-on-1 fight of the T-1000 paired up with a Bruce Lee imitator taking on the greatest kicker to have ever graced the kung fu movie world. Thankfully the fight is treated with a degree of reality, and the T-1000 is knocked out cold early on, leaving Hwang Jang Lee to unleash his kicks on Le, who, just like in reality, turns out to have a pair of nunchucks tucked away in one of his boots. Surprisingly, the fight is pretty good, Hwang unleashes his trademark triple flying kick, and there’s even a section which pits staff against nunchucks. It’s a definite highlight.

Somewhere in-between, it’s revealed that the person they’re after isn’t in Hong Kong at all, and that they need to seek out a place called the Venus Valley, which contains a race of “Amazonian female like warriors”, where they’ll find the staff which the spearhead belongs to. So after a brief car chase and an exploding car, it suddenly cuts to Manila Airport. It should also be mentioned that from this point Bruce Le and Hwang Jang Lee are never heard of again. Combined with Richard Norton, the movie just lost all of its genuine fighting talent at not even half way in! What we do get though, is an evil group of Nazis (is there any other type of Nazi?) who want to wipe out humanity and create a genetically engineered race of perfect humans.

Soon the Nazis are pursuing are heroes again (the actress from Carnal Crimes has now reappeared). After trying to trick them into meeting for a pleasant evening meal, the T-1000 senses something is wrong, and a foot chase gives way to a night time car chase. About a minute later, we can only assume they’ve been chasing each other for around 8 hours, as it’s inexplicably become daylight. A little later, a night time gun fight also suddenly becomes broad daylight, for no logical reason whatsoever. By the end of the movie it’s safe to assume that most of the characters haven’t slept for 48 hours straight.

By the final half hour, things have descended into Twilight Zone territory.  Captured by the Nazis, our fearless couple are held at their camp in the jungle, only to be attacked by a group of what look like post-apocalyptic Filipino bandits on horseback. The attack goes on for about 10 minutes, and at no point do we have any clue who the group that are attacking them are. It’s only when, after they escape, events end up in a cave which is home to a significant population of brown robe wearing dwarves. This kicks off a completely unnecessary sub-plot involving the dwarves. The T-1000 explains that in a private meeting with the head dwarf (that not even we got to witness), the dwarf told him they’re always getting attacked by the post-apocalyptic Filipino bandits, but they also know the location of Venus Valley. So, help them get rid of the bandits, they’ll reveal the location of the valley.

What this means is that, what was minutes earlier a movie with Bruce Le and Hwang Jang Lee, suddenly becomes about an army of hatchet wielding dwarves in brown robes, disguising themselves as walking cardboard boxes.  The boxes then proceed to attack the bandits, who’ve already just been involved in a lengthy action scene minutes before, with the only difference being that we now know who they are.  Worst of all, when they do attack, the actress from Carnal Crimes and the T-1000 hardly help at all!  They’re so useless that at one point one of the dwarves actually saves them from being attacked. The little guys should have just told them the location of Venus Valley to begin with and be done with it. But then we wouldn’t have a dwarf action scene.

Eventually the dwarves prevail, and they give them directions to the Venus Valley, which finally gives us a glimpse of those “Amazonian female like warriors”! What this translates to onscreen of course, is a large group of young well endowed Filipino females (I won’t say actresses) decked out in fur bikinis and bottoms. But the action isn’t over! The Queen Amazonian wants the T-1000 for her own lustful needs, so the actress from Carnal Crimes finally has her chance to shine when she has to fight above a crocodile pit with the tribe’s strongest fighter (strongest i.e. most well endowed). Needless to say, the scene ended with me being quite envious of those crocodiles.

Will they find the missing piece of the spear that pierced the body of Christ and save humanity, or will those pesky Nazis catch up and ruin everything? If it wasn’t clear already, Future Hunters is a truly bizarre slice of Filipino action cinema, one which isn’t afraid of using the likes of Bruce Le and Hwang Jang Lee in little more than extended cameos. However, if you’re a fan of the post-apocalyptic jungle warfare kung fu dwarf action Jesus related genre, then Future Hunters may just be the movie for you. Of course, it would be a real spoiler to give away the actual finale, so I’ll leave it at that.

Paul Bramhall’s Rating: 6.5/10

The post Future Hunters | aka Deadly Quest (1986) Review first appeared on cityonfire.com.

“Magnificent Warriors” Theatrical Poster

Director: David Chung Chi-Man
Cast: Michelle Yeoh, Richard Ng, Derek Yee Tung Sing, Lowell Lo, Koon Ting, Cindy Lau Chin Dai, Tetsuya Matsui, Hwang Jang Lee, Chang Yi, Lo Meng, Ku Feng
Running Time: 89 min. 

By Numskull

Very ’80s action flick that substitutes quantity for quality. There’s not much about it that could rightly be described as “magnificent” but that’s OK… this is a rainy day, nowhere to go, hour-and-a-half-to-kill-and-nobody-to-kill-it-with kind of movie, and a pretty good one at that.

Michelle Yeoh plays a WWII-era heroic lead role and brandishes a whip… so of course she’s gonna be stuck with a “female Indiana Jones” label. Really, the whip is pretty much where the similarities end. No lost arks or temples of doom to be found here. There’s a city under Japanese control and Michelle is sent to help a Chinese secret agent bail out the leader, who opposes Japan. His bubble-headed sweetie and a wandering gambler (Richard Ng, the perpetual comic relief guy) get involved along the way.

The action here isn’t extraordinary, but there’s a good amount of it and it gets the job done quite well. The parts that try to be funny do so with little success, but they aren’t permitted to go on for too long while asses remain to be kicked. Two scenes… an airplane chase and an aborted execution… are too lengthy for their own good, but there’s not much else to complain about, unless you demand that every HK movie be totally fresh, totally innovative, totally off-the-page. Magnificent Warriors is perfectly enjoyable as long as you accept it for what it is.

Numskull’s Rating: 7/10

The post Magnificent Warriors (1987) Review first appeared on cityonfire.com.

In 1985, Hong Kong’s Seasonal Film Corporation, a company that was responsible for making Jackie Chan a star with 1978′s Drunken Master, started producing American productions that blew viewers away; particularly, those who wanted the flavor of world-famous Hong Kong action.

Ng See Yuen, Seasonal Film’s founder, handpicked an aspiring writer named Keith W. Strandberg to produce a screenplay to No Retreat, No Surrender, a film that went on to become a cult classic, spawned two sequels, introduced Corey Yuen’s groundbreaking choreography to Hollywood and jump-started the career of Jean-Claude Van Damme.

In addition to screenwriting, Keith also started producing movies. Some of the titles under his belt include No Retreat, No Surrender 3: Blood Brothers, The King of the Kickboxers, American Shaolin, Superfights and Bloodmoon.

In this in-depth interview, Keith talks the films’ stars, interesting on-set incidents and much more! He even mentions a possible No Retreat, No Surrender remake. Enjoy!

How exactly did you hook up with Ng See Yuen’s Seasonal Films Corporation?

When I was directing tour groups of Americans through mainland China in the early ‘80s (my major in college was Chinese language and literature), I decided to contact movie studios there to work s a writer. I had established sort of reputation as a martial arts writer by this time (1984), and I thought that my background, combined with my fluency in Chinese, would be worthwhile to a company.

Wrong, again. I called every studio in Hong Kong, and they all hung up on me. Persistent (I’m nothing if I’m not persistent!), I kept calling, now shifting to the independent producers, and Seasonal Films.

Ng See Yuen, founder of the “Seasonal Films Corporation”

Luckily, I had done a little research, which told me that the President of Seasonal Films, Ng See Yuen, was from Shanghai. I knew that if I could get to him, I could speak to him in Mandarin Chinese, not the Cantonese dialect that most Hong Kong Chinese speak (which I didn’t then, and still only speak a smattering of now). So, I dialed Seasonal Films, and braced myself for the inevitable hang up. And, sure enough, even though I had gotten through to Mr. Ng, he was just about ready to hang up on me, telling me that he wasn’t interested and had no time.

Before he could hang up, however, I switched into fluent Chinese, and that caught his interest. He ended up inviting me over to his office, screening several pieces of old and new movies for me, and we talked for almost 2 hours. By the time I left the Seasonal Films offices, Mr. Ng and I had a handshake deal that if Seasonal Films ever decided to do movies for the American audience, I would be the one to write the screenplay.

Then, I went back to the US, got a job as a Karate instructor and program manager at a local sports complex, and didn’t hear from Seasonal Films or Mr. Ng. I sent a few letters, made a few overseas calls, but it looked like the idea of getting involved in the movies was going to die stillborn.

Then, one day when I was working at the sports complex, and I got a call from Mr. Ng. I got on the line, heard his voice and heard what he was saying: “Come to Hong Kong. We’re going to do the US movie, and you’re going to write it!”

The world-famous “Seasonal Films Corporation,” the company responsible for making Jackie Chan a star

With the limitless understanding and support of my wife at that time, Carol, I quit my job and headed for Hong Kong, notebook in hand. When I got there, we immediately went to work writing an outline of the story, and then I went back home to write the script.

I remember quite clearly my meeting with Seasonal Films before I left to come home and write the script. Mr. Ng knew I was a writer, but still he asked me if I knew how to write a script. I said sure, no problem. He gave me a couple of sample scripts to look through, anyway, but I assured him that I was a pro — and that there was nothing to worry about.

On the plane ride home, I panicked. I didn’t know how to write a script. I had never SEEN a script before he handed me the sample ones. I had seen plenty of movies, sure, but could I write one? Who knew?

“No Retreat, No Surrender” American Theatrical Poster

Tell us about your first script?

Before I sat down at the typewriter (this was before widespread word processors and personal computers, remember), I told myself the same thing I said before writing my first article for KICK: “You can do this! And, you can do it equally as poorly as everybody else out there!”

I wrote that script, and even though the first draft of the script was more of a novel than a script (it was about 200 pages long!), we went on to make the movie from that script, and it was hugely successful.

That movie was No Retreat, No Surrender, the film that launched the career of Jean Claude Van Damme and started a resurgence of interest in martial arts films.

No Retreat, No Surrender is no great masterpiece (in fact, if we could make it again now, I think we could make it a very good, mainstream movie), but it captured people’s imagination. It got a widespread theatrical release, and played all over the world. I still have people come up to me to tell me that No Retreat, No Surrender is their favorite movie of all time. I find that hard to believe, but it makes me feel good all the same.

When I go back and read that script, I shake my head at how naive I was. Luckily, I was also one of the assistant directors on the set every day, so I saw the changes that had to be made, and I quickly understood why some things worked and some things certainly and undeniably didn’t. It was excellent and unparalleled on-the-job training, and it was probably the best thing that could have happened to me.

Jean-Claude Van Damme and Kurt McKinney in “No Retreat, No Surrender”

What was it like working with Kurt McKinney, Van Damme, Corey Yuen, Tim Baker and Kim Tai Chung?

When we were casting the lead roles for No Retreat, No Surrender, we held an open casting call on the lot of Raleigh Studios in LA. We expected to see about 30 or 40 people, and were totally unprepared for the hundreds of people that showed up. They were all lined up outside the building, standing in the hot sun.

We had put in an ad for several very specific types of people, mostly young, but the line outside was all different kinds: old, fat, balding, etc. Very few of the people waiting outside were right for the parts we were casting, and we defi­nitely didn’t have time to see everyone that was waiting, so I was nominated as the person who would weed out the undesirables, and choose the people to come into the office.

What a job, and what a responsibility! I walked up and down that line, looking at the people and trying to keep in mind that I couldn’t feel sorry for them — I had to just choose people based on how they looked — something that I had been taught not to do most of my life!

It was probably one of the toughest jobs I’ve ever had to do in the movie business — I felt sleazy as I picked the people we wanted to see, and the looks of disappointment on the faces of the ones I didn’t pick really got to me.

This is the one side of the business I don’t like — having to choose one person over another. In a perfect world, everyone should get the parts they want… it just doesn’t work out that way.

Kurt McKinney in “No Retreat, No Surrender”

I remember Jean Claude being a super guy. He was always friendly, and always had a smile on his face. He was hungry back then, and needed the work and the opportunity to be in a feature film, so he was very appreciative of the part that we gave him. And, he’s been able to turn it into a hugely successful career.

We knew that Jean Claude had something, which is why we signed him to a two picture contract. It’s a shame for my career that he broke that contract, or I’d probably still be working with him.

I’ve heard horror stories about the way Jean Claude is on the set these days, but when I knew him I thought he was the perfect gentleman. He was always on time, always ready to give 100%. He was a joy to work with, and I hope he continues to be that way.

Kurt McKinney and I have stayed very good friends, talking from time to time, and when I created and ran the Action Film Camps, along with Keith Vitali, he often came as a guest instructor. I have tremendous respect for him. He went from No Retreat, No Surrender to becoming a soap opera star, while doing movies in between.

Corey Yuen and I get along great. He has a great sense of humor and is so very talented, and no nonsense.

“No Retreat, No Surrender” and its sequels were known as “Karate Tiger” in other countries.

Tim Baker was a great guy. A very good martial artist and very appreciate of his chance with the movie. Yes, he did get hit by Van Damme on the set of No Retreat, No Surrender and I think he testified against Van Damme regarding the injury to the guy on Cyborg.

Kim Tai Chung was a pleasure to work with, but it was difficult because he didn’t speak ANY English nor did he speak Chinese, so we had an interpreter that translated everything for us. We had to devise a way to have him say Korean words that looked like he was speaking English, so that we could dub him into English later. It was a challenge, but he was a good sport about it. And he did a great job with the mannerisms and movements of Bruce Lee.

How exactly did you discover Kurt McKinney and Van Damme?

Kurt McKinney came in through our casting agent, as he was a trained actor who just happened to be a great martial arts fighter. When we saw him, we knew that he had the complete package, which is so rare in our business. Usually we have to make a compromise, take a better actor and a worse fighter, or vice versa. With Kurt, he had both.

As for Jean-Claude Van Damme, I picked him out of the line of people at the open casting call at Raleigh Studios in LA. I picked him and two other guys, then when he went into the casting, the producers and Corey Yuen picked him. He has always been a very pretty fighter and he looked great in No Retreat, No Surrender.

Another note about castings — EVERY actor says they know martial arts, but it’s the rare actor who has any skill at all. I’ve been at this a while, so I can usually tell by the first few moves whether someone is any good. With guys like Keith Vitali, Billy Blanks and Keith Cooke, we knew right away that they were fantastic fighters, after a few moves, really.

“No Retreat, No Surrender 2” American VHS Cover

Was No Retreat, No Surrender 2 originally supposed to be a direct sequel? If so, what was the “continuing story” originally supposed to be? Was Jason Stillwell and Ivan Kraschinsky the Russian really going to return?

No, No Retreat, No Surrender 2 was originally a separate film. Because Seasonal Films had two pictures contracts with Jean Claude and Kurt, they decided to put them into this picture as well. We started work on No Retreat, No Surrender 2 (which was originally called Raging Thunder before the breakout success of No Retreat, No Surrender), so when it was finished, Ng See Yuen decided to call it No Retreat, No Surrender 2. For a time, I thought every movie I wrote and produced would be called No Retreat, No Surrender. At one point, I toyed with the idea of writing a movie called No Retreat No Surrender Never Again.

I was not very involved with No Retreat, No Surrender 2 other than to write the script. Ng worked with Roy Horan, the Seasonal Films salesman, who wanted to produce and write. I was unhappy with the changes made to my script (the original script was about Loren’s character coming of age – he was a real innocent traveling in Thailand) and stepped away from the project. I was not on location and didn’t work much on the film after filing my script. I went to the premiere in LA and was shocked at the wholesale changes and the weakening of the story, and told Ng that if Roy Horan was going to work with Seasonal Films, then I wasn’t going to. I went on to make several more pictures with Ng.

Roy Horan, To Wai Wo and Kim Tai Chung in “Tower of Death”

Any more comments on Roy Horan?

My parents told me if I don’t have anything nice to say about someone, don’t say anything.

What’s the reason Van Damme or Kurt McKinney didn’t return?

No Retreat, No Surrender 2 was to be the follow up to the first movie, using both Kurt McKinney and Jean Claude Van Damme, who had helped to make the first movie so successful. The only problem was: neither of them showed up for work.

No Retreat, No Surrender 2 was the movie with which I wasn’t intimately involved. I wrote the script, but I didn’t go on location. Roy Horan was the producer of the film, and he eventually ended up taking script credit as well — and that’s what I took exception to. So, all I know is that I got a frantic call from the President of Seasonal Films to tell me that neither Kurt nor Jean Claude showed up in Thailand for the first day of shooting.

As it turned out, Jean Claude got the part for Bloodsport so he broke our contract to make that picture, and Kurt decided that he didn’t want to work for Roy, so he stayed away. It really hurt the company at the time, because we had a complete crew in Thailand waiting for the lead actors, but they scrambled and were able to find replacements: Loren Avedon for Kurt’s role, and Mathais Hughes for JC’s. Both of these actors have gone on to make a number of very good movies, but neither has achieved the level of stardom that Van Damme has.

Cynthia Rothrock and Loren Avedon in “No Retreat, No Surrender II”

How was Loren Avedon discovered?

As I wasn’t directly involved with No Retreat, No Surrender 2, I don’t really know the “creation story” of how Loren was discovered. He is a fantastic on-screen fighter, and that’s why Seasonal Films signed him right away.

So you didn’t get to work with Cynthia Rothrock, Jang Lee Hwang, Matthias Hues or Max Thayer?

Cynthia and I are both from Pennsylvania, so we have a natural connection. We just hit it off right from the start. Even though I didn’t work on No Retreat, No Surrender 2 while it was filming, we became friends and remain so to this day. She is such a wonderful person – so warm and friendly and caring. And she is a fantastic talent.

I just recently met Matthias Hues at an event where a bunch of action movies stars were gathered and we got along fantastically. He is such a gentle giant and it was a pleasure to hang out with him. Max Thayer, I think I met him at the premiere of the movie in Hollywood, but never got the chance to know him or Hwang Jang Lee.

“No Retreat, No Surrender 3: Blood Brothers” American VHS Cover

By the time you got to No Retreat, No Surrender 3, Corey Yuen was no longer in the director’s chair. Instead, Lucas Lowe was brought it. Who exactly was Lucas Lowe?

Lucas Lowe was a rising talent that Ng discovered. Corey Yuen is a fantastic action director, but Ng and I were looking for someone who would focus on the story and the acting more (at that time, Corey didn’t speak English very well). Lowe had a good eye, but he was not very pleasant to work with. He had a huge ego and was not very organized, so we ended up wasting quite a bit of time.

Here’s an example of the trouble I had with Lucas Lowe:

One of the most maddening parts of filming No Retreat, No Surrender 3 was the director’s lack of preparation, and his penchant for wanting to change scenes at the last minute. Lucas Lo (spelled “Lowe” for The King of the Kickboxers and American Shaolin) was hired at the last minute to direct No Retreat, No Surrender 3 (aka Blood Brothers), and he came onto the set without the benefit of having time to story­board everything (as is his custom), and it seemed throughout the production that he was flying by the seat of his pants most of the time.

And, that meant playing it fast and loose with the dialogue, which really irked me. I always spend an inordinate amount of time on each scene, carefully crafted them to make sure that the correct words are chosen, and that each character’s dialogue suits his or her personality. But, Lucas would come in for the day, and I’d find out that he wanted 3 pages of dialogue cut to 3 lines for the next shot.

It was maddening, and it wasn’t a way to go about shooting a movie.

I remember one particular scene in a cemetery. The Donahue boys were burying their father, and were to have a huge confron­tation scene as Will left prematurely. It was about 2 pages of dialogue, but it was important, character-developing stuff: and Lucas wanted it cut. At the last minute. He wanted only a couple of lines while Will got into his car.

Keith Vitali and Rion Hunter in “No Retreat, No Surrender 3: Blood Brothers”

And, the most maddening part was that the only reason he wanted it changed was that we were running out of time. Lucas had burned most of the day shooting “extras”, and we were forced to fit the scenes with the lead actors into a couple of hours. This is a standard fault of Lucas, and I’ve seen it in every movie we’ve worked together — he plays around with the location, the extras, etc. and leaves the real work for last — the scenes with the lead actors, where the story gets told.

I was pissed! And, I almost walked off the set and told him to take a flying leap, but I knew I’d just be hurting the movie. It was my responsibility as co-producer and writer to ensure the quality of every foot of film, and I couldn’t trust Lucas to get it right without me–even if he wanted it changed.

So, I took the actors off to the side, explained the situation and how angry I was, and then together we devised a way to change things around so that it all still worked, and the characters come off OK.

The scene that ended up in the movie works OK, but I still think the original scene was stronger. From that point on, I warned Lucas that he couldn’t do that again — if he wanted changes made, we’d talk about them, and I’d have time to do them correctly.

I’m not a big fan of improvisation — too many small nuances and plot points are imparted in every scene, and everything has to match, to change things around at the last minute. Besides, I don’t think that last minute inspirations are necessarily better than finely crafted ideas — ideas that have been worked on for months.

Too many times, compromises have to be made on a film set. But, the worst thing to do is to compromise to make it easier — film making is supposed to be hard work!

Jackie Chan and Corey Yuen, who were both members of the “Seven Little Fortunes”

When Corey Yuen was no longer directing, who stepped in for the fight choreography?

Yes, Corey Yuen, who is a choreography genius, did the action for both No Retreat, No Surrender 1 and 2, and he choreographed the Keith Cooke fight scene (where he saves Loren) in The King of the Kickboxers and a couple of fight scenes in American Shaolin. For No Retreat, No Surrender 3, The King of the Kickboxers, American Shaolin and Bloodmoon, it was Tony Leung, a fantastic choreographer.

How much choreography or input was done by the stars (Loren, Vitali, etc.) themselves?

Very little. Usually, the fight choreographers would meet with the actors, see what they do best, and adapt the scenes and techniques to make them look as good as possible. It was their job to improve on their abilities.

I remember a fight scene in No Retreat, No Surrender, where one of the fighters was changing every move Corey Yuen gave him to perform. Corey would say “Do it this way,” and the guy, who was a fantastic fighter but didn’t know anything about making movies, would say, “How about if I do it like this?” By the third or fourth time, Corey looked and me and said, in Chinese, “Let him choreograph the scene then,” and stepped out of the ring. The fighter quickly got the message, when the entire cast and crew was staring at him, waiting, that he was a pleasure to work with from that point on.

That was what made Keith Vitali so great, because the fight choreographer would ask him if he could do something and he would say, with a smile, “I can do anything.” Once, during the making of Superfights, Keith has to perform one very intricate and difficult combination over and over for 48 takes! And he finished with a smile on his face.

Fighters like Keith VItali, Billy Blanks, Keith Cooke, Loren Avedon, Jerry Trimble, Gary Daniels, Darren Shahlavi and others were like dreams come true for the fight choreographers, because they could do just about anything, given them free reign to be as creative as possible.

The shooting of a fight scene is very hard, though. It’s a complicated, complex process that seems to take forever (we used to call it “entering fight hell” because we never knew when we were coming out. Seasonal Films was known for its great fight scenes, so we would spend whatever time was necessary to get the fight right. For example, the final fight scene in Bloodmoon took 10 days to shoot.

Gary Daniels, Keith Vitali, Keith W. Strandberg and Darren Shahlavi on the set of “Bloodmoon”

What’s it like hanging out with Keith Vitali?

Keith Vitali and I have become the best of friends. We got along extremely well and I have a huge amount of respect for his abilities. We play basketball, football, tennis and other sports together and we have a fantastic time. During the action film camps, which we established together, we would challenge all comers to basketball and we never lost.

Keith has such a great attitude, his catch phrase is “I can do anything,” and it’s true. He is a very hard worker and a pleasure to be around.

Here is a story from when I first met Keith:

Typically, before we start a movie, we’ll arrange to have the fighters perform for the fight director and stunt men, so that they know what they are working with. Well, in the case of Blood Brothers, we took Loren and Keith to a small dojo in Tampa one night, two days before we were to begin shooting, and the fight director put them through their paces.

Alternately, Keith and Loren were asked to do various kicks, punches, hand techniques, throws, reactions, falls, etc., with a group of about 10 people, all of them from Hong Kong, watching.

It was a fun night — both Loren and Keith are accomplished martial artists, and they both throw extremely beautiful tech­niques. The fight director and all the stunt men were very im­pressed, and they were about to call it a night, anxious to begin filming in two days, knowing that they had a great deal of raw talent with which to work.

Then Loren made a huge mistake: even though they were very satisfied and impressed, he offered to do a double kick into the heavy bag (a flying side kick followed by a flying spinning side kick). The fight director heard this offer and just shook his head, saying that he didn’t really need to see it. He had seen enough.

Loren Avedon and Keith Vitali in “No Retreat, No Surrender 3: Blood Brothers”

But, Loren insisted. And then he ran towards the bag, jumped up and did a very good kick, rocking the bag and landing on his feet.

Then, the fight director looked at Keith. “Can you do that too?” he asked. Keith looked at the bag, at Loren and then at the fight director. “I’ve never tried it, but I’m sure I could do it.” This said, Keith was pretty much committed to trying the kick. He took a run and hit the bag with the first kick, hit the bag with the second kick and then hit the floor. Hard.

He landed on his wrist, and it immediately SNAPPED. Broken wrist. Hospital. Forearm cast.

I was stunned, as were the fight guys. In the space of one second, we had gone from a very promising movie with two great fighters as the leads to a movie-threatening injury! I remember standing in the hospital corridor talking with Executive Producer Ng See Yuen about what we were going to do. Could we re-cast the lead at this late date? Remember, we were starting filming in two days!

I went into the doctor’s office with Keith to get an opinion of Keith’s chances of continuing to work even with a cast, and it looked very grim. But, being a writer, my mind was working. I came up with an idea that we ended up using, and it worked very well.

Since the movie started with a big fight in a bank, with Keith saving a girl’s life, it would make sense for him to get hurt during that fight. So, we designed it so that Keith would get shot in the wrist during that scene, and then he could be in a cast for the rest of the movie. We even added some dialogue into several of the scenes where other characters referred to the cast, making an essential part of the story.

It wasn’t an easy sell to the powers that be, but it was far too late to do anything else. We worked through it, and ended up with a very good movie.

Keith Vitali and Loren Avedon in “No Retreat, No Surrender 3: Blood Brothers”

During the filming of the scene in the movie when Loren finds his father dead, and then Keith walks in, emotions between the two stars came to a head. They never really got along (I think Loren was threatened by Keith’s championship experience), but it all came out during this scene.

Loren was bent on crying and being very emotional during this scene, even though the script didn’t really call for it. I didn’t want him to break down, but he was certain he knew how to play it. Rather than cause a big problem, and delay filming, I let him go, thinking that I could temper his acting while it was happening. The scene started, and progressed well, until Keith made his entrance, and together they had to deal with the fa­ther’s body.

Keith rightly felt that it was important that he show his love for his father, but Loren was holding Joe Campenella in such a way so that Keith couldn’t get to him. We tried to film it in several different ways, but each time it was apparent that Keith didn’t have anything to do–he couldn’t get to his Dad, and he wasn’t supposed to console Loren.

Finally, Keith mentioned to Loren that he has to have something to do, and everyone got into the act. The DP came into the conversation, Lucas Lowe the director started talking, and I was putting my two cents in, while the dialogue coach was also there.

To be fair to Loren, it was a little bit overwhelming, but instead of dealing with hit intelligently and calmly, he just blew up. He screamed in this indoor pool, his voice echoing off the walls: “Everybody just get the fuck away from me!”

The entire place got deathly quiet, and all eyes were on Loren…and Keith. Keith was standing close to Loren, his fists balled and his body shaking with anger. He said in a very low voice, full of implied violence, “Tell me you’re not talking to me.”

Keith was ready to tear into him, and he could do it in a heartbeat. Keith is one of the best fighters I’ve ever seen, and he is always on top of his game. Even though he’s long retired from competition, he can still mix it up with the best of them. I was almost looking forward to seeing the conflict between Loren and Keith. But, it didn’t happen.

Loren immediately apologized and told Keith that he would never talk that way to HIM, he was just talking about everyone else. He smoothed things over with Keith, but Loren certainly didn’t make a lot of friends on the cast or crew that night.

One of my favorite stories comes from when we were casting for No Retreat, No Surrender 3 down in Tampa. We had an “open call” for terrorists, and about 50 showed up, dressed to the nines in terrorist garb, sporting sawed off shotguns, machine guns, eyepatches, hunting knives, etc. We ran them through their paces, and were having a great time watching them perform in the rear yard of the casting agency.

On the street in front of the casting agency ran a pretty busy road, and it was a hoot to watch the drivers as they drove by do a double take at the action that was going on outside the agency.

At one point in the day, a woman got rear ended by a man on that street. The man got out of his car, in a rage, and started to brow beat the women, yelling at her at the top of his voice, threatening her with lawsuits and with physical violence.

Before you could say “assassination”, the entire group of terrorists, weapons in hand, were walking across the street toward the macho man picking on the poor woman.

You should have seen the guy’s face when he became aware of the terrorists! It was great! He immediately apologized to the woman, got back in his car and drove off as quickly as he could!

“King of the Kickboxers” American Theatrical Poster

What was it like working on the set of The King of the Kickboxers?

I was not on the set for the filming of the first snuff film scene from The King of the Kickboxers, so I didn’t catch the following gaffe:

This scene was set up to show a young fighter coming on to the set of what he thinks is a real movie. The director coaches him about trying to make it look real, and then the scene starts. As I had scripted it, the actor gets banged around a little bit, then stops the scene and tells the director that he’s been hit. His line of dialogue is, “Hey, he hit me!”

Well, the fight coordinator decided to change the scene around a little, allowing the attackers to use weapons, and instead of getting hit, the actor gets cut on his hand and says “Hey, he hit me!”

Not exactly what you would say if you got cut on the hand, right? You might say “Hey, he cut me!” or “Hey, I’m bleeding!” or something along these lines, but not “Hey, he hit me!”

Still, this is what the actor said, and since I wasn’t there, no one corrected him, and that’s how it is on film.

What about Loren’s co-star, Sherrie Rose?

I had written a topless scene for the character of Molly in The King of the Kickboxers, and during casting we were very up front with all the women we auditioned. There was going to be some nudity, and they needed to know that going in.

In fact, we told everyone that there was (limited) nudity, and advised the casting directors not to send women that wouldn’t consider baring their breasts. The last thing we wanted was to choose someone, and have them decline because of the nudity. If they knew about the nudity from the start, we would only see women who were OK with it. I want to be very clear about someth­ing, however: we did not ask the women to shed their clothes during the casting. That would have been unethical.

We saw a host of actresses, and finally made the choice for one woman in particular, and signed her for the part of Molly. About a week before she was due to arrive in Thailand, I got a call from our casting agent in Hollywood–the actress wasn’t coming. She, at the last minute, had second thoughts about the nudity involved, and pulled out. Exactly the situation we were trying to avoid!

Sherrie Rose and Loren Avedon in “King of the Kickboxers”

There we were, in Thailand already, about a week into film­ing, without a lead actress. Scrambling, I remembered an actress that we had worked with in Tampa on No Retreat No Surrender III: Blood Brothers, Sherrie Rose. Sherrie is a very good actress, and was a former Playboy Playmate, so she fit perfectly: good talent and a willingness to take off her top.

I called her and made the deal, and she got on a plane and flew to Thailand. She had spent a couple of months in Thailand filming another movie a year before, so she was familiar with the place, and had some friends there. Everything seemed to be work­ing out perfectly: she fit in well with the cast and crew, she did a good job in her scenes, and everyone was pleased with the choice.

That is, until the time came for her to take her clothes off for the camera. The scene itself was pretty innocuous: Molly shows up while Jake is in the bath tub, and proceeds to slip her clothes off and join him in the water.

It wasn’t really gratuitous nudity, as it was integral to the scene and the relationship between Jake and Molly, and it went by very quickly. The night we were to shoot this scene came, we cleared the set of any unnecessary crew people, and prepared to roll the cameras.

And, Sherry started to protest. She didn’t want to do the nudity. I explained to her that she had agreed to do it, and it was a condition of her employment. She still refused to do it.

I reminded her of her promise to do it, and her background (Playboy and all that), but it had no effect. She was in a good bargaining position: we’d already shot a couple weeks of footage, so replacing her would have been very hard, and very costly.

Finally, after about 45 minutes of pleading, arguing and fighting, the director had to promise that he would be very careful about what appears on camera, and she finally agreed to do what she had agreed to do a long time ago.

The scene went off without a hitch, and it goes by in “King” very quickly–it’s actually a nice break from the violent action.

One night back in the USA, long after that confrontation with Sherrie, I was watching HBO’s Tales From the Crypt and on comes an episode, with Sherrie Rose in a starring role. Interest­ed, I watched the whole thing, surprised to see the most graphic breast nudity I think I’ve ever seen — and all of Sherrie’s breasts! We’re talking close-up nipple shots, full chest nudity in most of the scenes… I was stunned! Here was the woman who complained about a shot that lasted at most 5 seconds baring her breasts for several minutes at a time!

That’s Hollywood! Maybe the prestige of “Tales” induced her to take her clothes off.

Loren Avedon and Billy Blanks in “King of the Kickboxers”

What’s Billy Blanks like?

While we were filming The King of the Kickboxers, in Thailand, I had the oppor­tunity to work out with Billy Blanks. I had been running and staying in shape, but I hadn’t fought for a long time. Still, when we decided to throw some kicks together, I knew I had to take advantage of sparring with one of the greatest fighters of all time.

So, one afternoon on a rare day off in Kao Yai, Thailand, Billy and I went into one of the meeting rooms and started stretching, then throwing some kicks.

Now, I’m not a great fighter by any stretch of the imagination, but I can usually hold my own. I won some tourna­ments when I was a kid, and I was picked to represent the state of Ohio in fighting and kata when I was 17. So, how much better than I could Billy be?

Light years.

There might not even be a number high enough to describe the gap between his skills and mine. I felt like a white belt facing off with Billy. He was very kind, and didn’t completely destroy me, but he was and still is an incredible fighter.

We fought for about 10 minutes, and the entire time I don’t think I was ever in any danger of scoring a point. Billy could do anything at will, and it was a great humbling experience for me. He could have taken me out at any time during our sparring ses­sion, and I came to know what it feels to be completely out­classed.

How did you discover Reese Madigan, the lead of American Shaolin?

With the lead in American Shaolin, we did a whole bunch of castings and we needed someone who was a great actor and could fight, and we found Reese Madigan, who ended up doing a great job in the lead role. It took forever to find him. I originally wanted Jason Bateman and he was considering the role, but he would not shave his head, and he wasn’t really a fighter. Luckily, we found Reese.

“American Shaolin” American Theatrical Poster

How about your experiences on American Shaolin?

American Shaolin was by far the hardest film making ex­perience I’ve ever had. There were many times when I wanted to quit, and the only thing that kept me going was my commitment to making a high quality film.

The director of the picture, Lucas Lowe, was out of control, and no one on the Chinese crew paid attention to the schedule. If we went over and didn’t finish a scene we were supposed to, nobody cared. They actually liked it, because they were living in better quarters and eating better food than they would at home, so they weren’t in a hurry to get things done.

It was a bad situation, and everyone was in a horrible mood. By July of the summer of 1991, I had been away from my family for 3 months, with no end in sight. Everything was taking twice as long as it should have, as it would have in the U.S., and I wanted out.

It all came to a head when we were in Feng Hwa, a little town that was the birthplace of Chiang Kai Shek. We were in the middle of nowhere, the food was horrible, the weather was hot and humid and oppressive, the lead actor was sick and hard to work with, and the hours were incredibly long (16 – 18 hours every day, sometimes 9 or 10 days in a row) and hard. I was missing my kids, my wife and just my life–but the movie wasn’t done.

I was able to get through that period by concentrating on the task at hand, and taking it one day at a time, and I’m glad I stuck it out. We got a GREAT movie out of it, so my effort was not in vain. It was harder than anything I’ve ever done, and I don’t know that I’d choose to do it again.

Loren Avedon and Keith Cooke in “King of the Kickboxers”

How about Keith Cooke?

Billy Blanks and Keith Cooke are true champions and they are the best to work with – they have already succeeded and really have nothing to prove, so there is very little ego involved.

Loren Avedon’s contract ended with The King of the Kickboxers — what’s the reason he didn’t continue making movies with Seasonal Films?

Loren at the end of his contract became a little difficult to work with. He was demanding and thought he should be a bigger star than he was, so negotiating with him was out of the question. Also, when you do three movies together, it’s time to move on and do other things.

Experiences working with Gary Daniels and Darren Shahlavi?

Gary Daniels and I had met in LA while I was writing Bloodmoon and got along really well. Gary is a very good actor, takes his craft very seriously, and he is a fantastic fighter, so once I proposed him to Ng See Yuen, it was an easy deal to make. Also, Gary had a name in action, which helped us sell the movie. Chuck Jeffreys, Gary’s co-star, is a great friend of mine and one of the most talented on screen fighters and choreographers I’ve ever seen. He and Gary together were just marvelous.

Gary Daniels became a very close friend while we were making Bloodmoon. He is a great martial artist and takes his art, and his work, very seriously. I have a tremendous amount of respect for Gary and I wish he had become a bigger star. He works SO hard, he deserves all the success he has gotten. He, Keith Vitali and I were all far away from our families, so we’d hang out every day off, playing tennis, going to the beach and more. Tons of fun.

Darren is so talented, and for the most part he is self taught regarding movie fighting, which is MUCH different from real fighting. He is also quite a good actor, which he hasn’t been able to showcase in some of the Hong Kong films, where they just want him to be a bad ass and yell all the time.

“Bloodmoon” American DVD Cover

Out of your first 4 films with Seasonal Films, what’s your personal favorite?

My favorite story is American Shaolin, but I think the best movie we made together was Bloodmoon. We filmed that in North Carolina, Keith Vitali and I worked together producing it, we became great friends with Gary Daniels and Darren Shahlavi, and Chuck Jeffreys, who was already a good friend, was one of the stars of the movie, so it was a fantastic experience.

For the future, I am working with Chuck Jeffreys on an action/comedy project called Enter the Numb-Chuck, and trying to put together interest in a No Retreat, No Surrender remake. Keep watching for the trailers.

For more about No Retreat, No Surrender 2, No Retreat, No Surrender 3: Blood Brothers and King of the Kickboxers, please read our interview with Loren Avedon.

The post Exclusive: Interview with Keith W. Strandberg first appeared on cityonfire.com.

“Raging Thunder” Japanese Theatrical Poster

Director: Corey Yuen
Cast: Loren Avedon, Matthias Hues, Max Thayer, Cynthia Rothrock, Hwang Jang Lee, Roy Horan, Patra Wanthivanond, Nirut Sirichanya, Chesda ‘Pop’ Smithsuth
Running Time: 97/104 min.

By Jeff Bona

If you think Jackie Chan and John Woo were the first (after Bruce Lee’s Enter the Dragon, of course) to introduce real Hong Kong action to mainstream moviegoers in America, think again.

In 1985, Hong Kong’s Seasonal Film Corporation, the company that was responsible for making Jackie Chan a star with 1978’s Drunken Master, started producing American productions that blew viewers away; particularly, those looking for the same type of inspiring action they saw in accessible Golden Harvest action films of the 1980’s. What started with 1985’s No Retreat, No Surrender – Corey Yuen’s English-language debut feature, and also the movie that put Jean-Claude Van Damme on the map – continued with 1987’s No Retreat, No Surrender 2 (aka Raging Thunder).

Corey Yuen, the director/action choreographer of the first No Retreat, No Surrender, was back in the director’s chair for Part 2. Back then, Yuen was known in Hong Kong for directing classics such as 1981’s Tower of Death, 1982’s Ninja in the Dragon’s Den, and 1985’s Yes, Madam! It wasn’t until 1998 that Yuen finally exploded in the Hollywood circuit, thanks to Richard Donner giving him full control over Jet Li’s action sequences in Lethal Weapon 4. Since then, he has directed 2002’s The Transporter and has choreographed a number of big Hollywood films, including 2001’s Kiss of the Dragon and 2010’s The Expendables.

In addition to Corey Yuen, both Kurt McKinney and Jean-Claude Van Damme were also supposed to return. According to screenwriter Keith W. Strandberg, neither McKinney or Van Damme showed up in Thailand for the first day of shooting. Apparently, Van Damme broke his contract and did Bloodsport instead; and rumor has it that McKinney rejected because he had just gotten married and his wife didn’t like the idea of him filming on the Cambodian border.

At this point, No Retreat, No Surrender 2 desperately needed a new leading man who could not only carry himself on camera, but also look good fighting on-screen. Producer Roy Horan (he’s the Charles Manson-looking guy who appeared in Snake in the Eagle’s Shadow and Tower of Death) turned to a 23-year-old Tae Kwon Do expert named Loren Avedon, who was chosen over 75 other candidates to replace McKinney. At the time, Avedon was a used car salesman whose only claim to fame was a bit part in 1985’s Ninja Turf. A week later, he was off to Thailand to begin filming his first starring film.

Filling in for Van Damme was newcomer Matthias Hues, a German bodybuilder who I personally describe as “Van Damme and Dolph Lundgren rolled into one,” in other words, Hues was the perfect choice to play the bad guy. International star power was added in the form of martial arts sensation Cynthia Rothrock, who had already made a name for herself in Hong Kong with 1985’s Yes, Madam! and 1986’s Millionaire’s Express. In addition, Iron Eagle’s Max Thayer and martial arts movie legend Hwang Jang Lee (Drunken Master) were also brought in.

Contrary to popular belief, No Retreat, No Surrender 2 was always intended to have an unrelated story (a sequel to the original, by name only). Even if McKinney and Van Damme returned, they would be playing two, totally different characters.

If No Retreat, No Surrender was Yuen’s answer to The Karate Kid, then No Retreat, No Surrender 2 was his answer to Rambo. The plot of Part 2 concerns a Tae Kwon Do expert named Scott Wyld (Loren Avedon), who visits his girlfriend (Patra Wanthivanond) in Thailand. Soon after the two meet up, she is kidnapped and held hostage in Cambodia. With the help of his friend Mac (Max Thayer) and Terry (Cynthia Rothrock), Scott travels to Cambodia in hopes of rescuing his girlfriend from Russian and Vietnamese troops, headed by a Russian general (Matthias Hues).

If you can get over the fact that Avedon isn’t exactly a graduate of The Birmingham School of Acting, then you’ll realize that No Retreat, No Surrender 2 is one of the best action movies of the 1980’s. Sure, the film has corny moments, cheesy one-liners and third rate acting; but once the brawling kicks in, you’re in action movie heaven. The fight sequences are swift, solid, tightly edited and very creative. Even the sound effects used are crisp and organic. Not all the action is a bunch of flips and kicks, there’s motorcycle stunts, shootouts, explosions and even Max Thayer drinking fresh snake blood (like, really drinking it, as shown in a one-take shot).

With a choreographer like Corey Yuen, almost anyone can look good fighting on screen; but with someone like Avedon under his command, the result is top notch. Till this day, I have yet to see a non-Chinese actor who can pull off Hong Kong choreography the way Avedon does; with that said, I consider him to be one of the most underrated names in the history of martial arts film. The bottom line is: Avedon is a natural when it comes to on-screen fighting. It’s no wonder The Seasonal Film Corporation had him sign a 3-picture deal before production of Part 2 even wrapped up.

Cynthia Rothrock is just as awesome – and this goes without saying – being the seasoned, butt-kicking babe that she is. Even Max Thayer gets down and dirty, although he is obviously body-doubled 95% of the time. Kung fu cinema fanatics will get a kick out of Hwang Jang Lee’s appearance; despite his non-speaking role, he has a chunky duel with Rothrock. Matthias Hues, who handles his action scenes like a champ, goes full force against Avedon during the film’s climactic battle.

During their release, I feel that No Retreat, No Surrender 1 and 2 were too ahead of their time to be fully appreciated. Or it could be that the excellence of both films were easily overshadowed by their cheese factor. Whatever the case, Corey Yuen and Seasonal Films were the first – since Bruce Lee and Golden Harvest – to bring real Hong Kong flavor in an American action movie. Not even Jackie Chan’s early U.S. films, like 1980’s The Big Brawl or 1985’s The Protector, showcased the action he was famous for (and we can blame the directors of those two films for that).

If you’re a fan of Hong Kong, martial arts or action movies in general, then No Retreat, No Surrender 2 is easily a must-see. Plain and simple.

Jeff Bona‘s Rating: 8/10

The post No Retreat, No Surrender II | aka Raging Thunder (1987) Review first appeared on cityonfire.com.

“Millionaire’s Express” Chinese Theatrical Poster

Director: Sammo Hung
Cast: Sammo Hung, Yuen Biao, Olivia Cheng, Eric Tsang, Lam Ching-Ying, Kenny Bee (Chung Chun-To), Cynthia Rothrock, Richard Norton, Yukari Oshima, Wu Ma, Rosamund Kwan, Dick Wei, Richard Ng, Wang Lung-Wei, Yasuaki Kurata (Shoji Kurata), Emily Chu, Yuen Wah, Hwang Jang-Lee, Bolo Yeung
Running Time: 98 min.

By JJ Hatfield

“Millionaire Express” is a film that combines martial arts, comedy and westerns. There are quite possibly more martial arts/actors gathered together in this film than I have seen anywhere else! Under the direction of Sammo Hung and including just about every recognizable popular star,comic,martial artist of the day and too many cameos to count. Yuen Biao, Lam Ching-Ying, Rosamund Kwan, Usauki Kurata, Dick Wei, Yukari Oshima, Yuen Wah, Richard Norton, Cynthia Rothrock, Phillip Ko, even Hsiao Ho is in this movie! (Look for the Fire Fighter/Sheriff Deputy).

Fong-Tin Ching (Sammo Hung) left his small town years ago promising his mother he would return when he had become wealthy. His plans went awry and he became a thief and con artist. By the time he returns home his mother has died and he is a wanted criminal. He packs up everything including his girlfriend’s brothels prostitutes and head for his small town to buy up and revitalize the place. One of the numerous sub plots involves a bank robbery. The robbers have set a fire as a distraction leading Tsao Cheuk Kin (Yuen Biao) away from his law enforcement duties, as he is also Fire Chief and a reluctant mayor. This leads to a fantastic stunt where Biao cartwheels off a two story building which is on fire!

Fong devises a plan to force people riding on the elegant “Millionaire Express” train to stop in his town and spend money boosting the economy. Tsao can’t let Fong stop the train and that leads to one of the best on screen fights between the two men! Fong is also being pursued by a bounty hunter that looks like he stepped out of a Sergio Leone film. When a mercenary army arrives everyone is going to have to cooperate if they want to stay alive.

This movie makes for good entertainment only because of the fights. There are problems with pacing and a far too long rambling “lecture” from Fong about how the prostitutes were not bad and kept the wives husbands from leaving them to look for something different. Some of the comedy is of the slapstick variety but the finale fight scene is excellent and involves nearly all the characters!

Aside from the fights/stunts/action this movie is not at all what you would expect of Sammo at this stage of his game. The plot, such as it is wanders all over the planet…where is this exactly? Or even roughly. The clothes, hair, characters (such as Wong Fei – hung being a young boy) there is no continuity. Some people dress like gangsters. The mercenary army looks like escapees from a reenactment of the American Civil War. A lot of the props seemed to be from the 1930‘s but others made it appear to be much earlier or considerably further along in the century. I wanted to give this movie a higher rating but the slow development of the thread of a plot does not warrant it. However it is an entertaining movie even with all the continuity problems and is more than worthy of a couple of viewings.

JJ Hatfield’s Rating: 7/10

By Reefer

Art can make you think about things in different ways. Art can challenge you. Art can open your eyes to the things around you. Art can be beautiful, analytical, sad, difficult, and boring.Who needs art?! Judging from Shanghai Express, director Sammo Hung surely doesn’t.

Shanghai Express seems to be Sammo Hung’s excuse to invite every major star in HK cinema to his own personal kegger party. Trust me, this is the most fun you can have watching a kung fu movie. This film is filled to the brim with sight gags, slapstick, eye-popping stunts, and fast-paced kung fu from many of the best in the business.

The plot is not important, but it has something to do with Sammo returning to his home town with plans to repair its dwindling economy by blowing up some train tracks, forcing its rich passengers to get out and spend some money.

Did I mention that the very under-rated Yuen Biao also stars? He just performs one of the most amazing stunts I have ever seen here. Yuen does a backflip off from the top of a three-story burning building!!!! Full screen. Lands on his feet. Then runs over to some firemen and delivers a line of dialogue. All in one shot!!!! I watched this on DVD three or four times. Looking for wires or anything that could explain how in the world it was done. I still don’t know. If any of you do know, please email me. He does kinda sink into the ground a little so maybe a landing mat was involved.

Well, like I said, Shanghai Express is not artful cinema. What is my proof? Well,The Godfather never featured Al Pacino rolling half-naked down a snowy hill eventually turning into a huge snow boulder. Plus, Casablanca did not show Humphrey Bogart busting into his hometown with a truckload of whores accompanying him. Furthermore, Citizen Cane didn’t have a sequence where Orson Welles kicks Cynthia Rothrock’s ass after she questions the size of his manhood (though that would have been cool).

Shanghai Express is nothing but a good time.

Reefer’s Rating: 8/10

By Numskull

This movie is fun. Lots and lots of fun. More fun than a barrel of monkeys on behavior-modifying drugs. So fun, in fact, that I’m taking time out from my action-packed life of battling supervillains and torrid encounters with European secret agent babes just to tell you how fun it is.

But first, I have to tell you about Earthquake Boy.

I don’t know his real name. I don’t care about his real name. He lives in the condo next door and was dubbed Earthquake Boy by none other than myself because of his presumable lifelong habit of STOMPING up and down the stairs as if he weighs 800 pounds. I’ve seen the wastrel in person, and there’s no way in hell he weighs more than 190. But, for some reason which even Sir Isaac Newton himself would be hard pressed to explain, when this motherfucker climbs the stairs, window panes vibrate, candles get snuffed out, and rocking chairs suddenly take on a life of their own.

Anyway, when I first saw Millionaires’ Express, I was sitting in the living room with my friend Jeremy. We put the tape in.

It starts with a portrayal of Sammo Hung as a man who is not above the looting of corpses. When he is captured by a federal marshall-type guy (James Tien, I think), there is a scene where the two of them go tumbling down a snow-covered mountain, accumulating snow as they roll. Before long, the two of them are enveloped in a bad, and I mean REALLY BAD, SFX/animated snowball.

Here’s where Earthquake Boy comes into play. As the two guys are rolling down the mountain, Earthquake Boy descends the stairs. From the TV came half-assed avalanche sound effects; through the wall came the clompings and stompings of EB’s abnormally dense feet. As the giant snowball comes to a halt and falls apart with a crumbling sound, EB reaches the bottom of the stairs and celebrates his triumph by indulging in the luxury of hopping down from the next-to-last step, resulting in an extra loud THUMP.

See where I’m going with this?

Jeremy, with a facial exression suggestive of a broomstick up the ass, turns and looks at the wall.

“What in the name of the man who stole my x-ray vision was that?” says he.

“That was Earthquake Boy, the kid who lives next door,” says I.

“Sounds like he should be demolishing Tokyo,” he replies.

“He only does that while there’s no one here,” I retort.

We return our attention to the movie as Earthquake Boy gets in his dad’s car, SLAMS the door shut, and screeches off to God-knows-where.

And so the story unfolds. Yuen Biao, the fire chief of this little backwater Chinese village, does a flip off a the roof of a two-storey building and then just walks down the road like nothing happened. Wow. Sammo Hung brings back a carload of half-bit whores, all of whom are inexplicably clean, although Sammo himself and the car and totally caked with mud and traildust. Yuen, who has taken over as the village’s chief of security, tells Sammo, a wanted criminal, that he is not welcome. You can see the fight scene brewing already.

Fast forward to said fight scene. Earthquake Boy’s timing is remarkable. Just as Sammo and Yuen start to go at it, he returns, slams the car door shut, slams the condo door open (I didn’t think that was possible but he managed), and then STOMPS up the stairs again.

It was almost frightening. Kick connects, STOMP! Sammo hits the ground, STOMP! Puch connects, STOMP! guy crashes through a wooden bench, STOMP! ,The fight scene was spiffy, but it was hard to keep our attention focussed on it with Earthquake Boy presumably A) spying on us through some hitherto unseen peephole near the staircase or B) being guided by some supernatural force, possibly the ghost of somebody Jeremy or I once pissed off, hell-bent on diverting our attention from where it should have been.

“That guy should have an elevator installed next door or something,” says Jeremy.

“Then, with our luck, the bastard power would go out and he’d have to use the stairs anyway, ” I shoot him down.

As can be assumed by even the most mentally deficient of halfwits, Earthquake Boy doesn’t stop with the stairs. He slams doors shut. He slams windows shut. He slams drawers shut. He slams the toilet seat down. He sings in the shower. He must die.

Anyway, you can imagine how the rest of the movie went. As the story of Sammo Hung trying to get a train full of millionaires to spend money in this little one-mule (they couldn’t afford a horse) town unfolded, almost every punch or kick or smash wass accompanied or accentuated by a slam or a stomp or an off-key chorus from Earthquake Boy.

Fortunately for me, I was already accustomed to EB’s repulsive presence. Jeremy, however, was unable to draw as much enjoyment from the movie as he should have. He now owes Earthquake Boy a debt of blood, and best of all, I have a ringside seat.

Anyway, the little sub-plots in this movie are what really make it worth watching. Richard Ng cheating on his obnoxious cow of a wife was my personal favorite. The “secret agent” scene in the motel room is priceless. At least better than that ninja burglar shit from My Lucky Stars. Whenever I see Sammo, I can’t help but think of that scene and wonder why in the name of hell-bent fuck he thought it was funny. But anyway, don’t let that bother you. There’s also a pair of old martial arts masters whose kids don’t get along, a trio of samurai carrying a treasure map, a huge gang of bandits who can’t decide if they’d rather rob everyone or fuck Cynthia Rothrock, and the village’s former police chief trying to loot the townspeople (note to Sammo: magnets REPEL each other).

Anyone who sits through the first 75 minutes and bitches about the lack of action, remember this: the longer you suffer, the sweeter your reward. The movie concludes with a massive brawl, involving almost every character, in which half the town gets demolished.

See? Fun.

But not as fun as torturing Earthquake Boy to death. I, of all people, should know.

Needless to say, there will be no further expolits of Earthquake Boy in future reviews.

Numskull’s Rating: 8/10

The post Millionaire’s Express | aka Shanghai Express (1986) Review first appeared on cityonfire.com.

“5 Pattern Dragon Claws” UK DVD Cover

AKA: 5 Pattern Dragon Claws
Director: Godfrey Ho
Co-director: Kim Si-Hyeon
Cast: Hwang Jang Lee (Wong Cheng Li), Dragon Lee (aka Mun Kyong-sok, Keo Ryong, Guh Ryong), Philip Chan, Kitty Chui, Chris Yung, David Ding
Running Time: 86 min.

By Joseph Kuby

Average Kung Fu movie with few good moments!

This is really mediocre stuff when held in comparison to most genre efforts yet I found it watchable (and even likeable) due to its simplicity and somewhat intriguing storyline as I was curious to see who would live (kind of like Born Invincible except with less repetitive choreography, though that film was certainly more better in some ways).

The film’s story is somewhat cliche though it’s not predictable (the who-will-die and what-will-happen-next slant that the director chooses makes the proceedings more tolerable). The movie plays out like a Kung Fu Macbeth (lots of revenge, blood, a person who betrays his friends due to his lusting for power and a power obsessed maniac wanting to claim ruler of everything), even moreso than Fist Of Fury (a film which Bey Logan referred to as a Kung Fu Macbeth in his audio commentary for said film).

Any kind of cult classic status this film gains is due to the presence of Hwang Jang Lee who really holds the screen with a formidable screen presence that’s burning with charisma. But then again, one gets this sense that he could do this type of stock role in his sleep (which also applies to his kicking as well – something that would have us losing our sleep over would be something Hwang could do in his sleep).

The film’s production values may not be all that big but they’re competent at best. I know that not every single film can have Shaw Bros. style production values but this film at some points just lacks that certain texture in set-design and costumes, though the film has enough of that to create an atmosphere that the viewer can believe and be absorbed in during the midst of viewing.

The film’s real major problem is the soundtrack that’s used for the final fight scene as it sounds like someone had mixed three scores together! (and I don’t mean that as a critical remark but it literally does sound like that)

The dubbing is laughable in some ways but not annoying so as to distract the viewer from the story.

The action is very typical of the era this was made in (the early traditional Kung Fu movie era i.e. post Bruce or basically from 1973 – 1977), slow-paced and static but still somewhat enjoyable (despite the average choreography); it’s strikingly enjoyable as we draw closer to the end where all of a sudden the fight scenes are now of the quality of something by Yuen Woo Ping.

The last few fights in particular really do feel like something choreographed by members of the Yuen clan – notably with imaginative touches such as two fighters revolving their opposite legs around one anothers (to imagine this, point your index fingers towards each other and spin them around each other to catch the drift of what I’m saying).

There was one inventive thing that the final fight scene had going for it and that was the use of insert shots of lightning (complete with thunder sounds) to show the sheer strength and supernatural force of Hwang Jang Lee’s kicks – a nice touch (though one may argue that this was done to hide the fact that they couldn’t afford fancy visual effects).

Star Wars fans, mainstreamers (mainstream audience members) or arthousians (arthouse audience members) will either cry blasphemy or be amused as they hear segments of the Star Wars soundtrack (though the theme won’t be spotted here unless you watch Magnificent Bodyguards).

There’s two other films (and maybe more) which use the Star Wars score – Snake In The Eagle’s Shadow (with Jackie Chan again) and My Life’s On The Line (which I will review sometime in the future). Both films use the exact same score that’s used as Luke Skywalker is about to destroy the Death Star.

This was the first new Kung Fu film I saw when I arrived in Colne (a town in East Lancashire – Lancashire being a county based in England) thanks to a very friendly neighbour (I got into the genre of martial arts/Hong Kong films in the summer of 1998 when I saw Jackie Chan’s Police Story but moved to Colne in 2001) so naturally there was a nostalgic tinge that creeped up upon me as I saw the film for the second time.

This is one of the few good films Godfrey Ho ever made, which isn’t saying much considering two things…

1) The film was also directed by Kim Si Hyeon, who also directed Dragon Lee in a Kung Fu/Wuxia pian* movie called Dragon Lee Vs. The 5 Brothers (a.k.a. ‘Five Brothers’ or ‘Five Disciples’) which was an Australian/South Korean co-production and which also starred Yuen Qiu (from Kung Fu Hustle and The Man With The Golden Gun) who had appeared with Dragon Lee in two other productions by Kim – Dragon’s Snake Fist and Dragon, The Young Master (both of which have Godfrey credited as presenter).

2) The overall quality of Godfrey’s filmography (including this film) as he’s been best known as the Ken Russell** of Hong Kong cinema, though his usage of stock footage and ability to mix various film footages gives him the status (which he and Phillip Ko truly deserve) of being the Roger Corman of Hong Kong cinema.

Also, the attitudes of the Shaw Brothers (Run Run Shaw and his brothers) were similar to that of Roger’s in regards to their ethics concerning filmmaking, except they churned out more classier movies than Corman ever did. To validate this, here’s a good explanation about the Shaws…

Despite offering an array of classics, Run Run, Runjy and Runme were considered to be the Roger Cormans of China in that not only did they give many future stars and renowned directors their first jobs (allowing them the opportunity to learn the ropes by working on a multitude of productions in a few-frills environment) but due to their business ethic.

An average of seven features was always in production, while the dubbing rooms were shared on a tight scheudle of three shifts daily. They could wrap up a production in three days; a big budget extravaganza might require a week. The films were often shot without a written script, more or less made up by the crew as they went along and edited directly on camera with few retakes.

The emphasis was on ‘fist and pillow’ – violence and sex. This is confirmed by Run Run’s direct approach to filmmaking:

“If audiences want violence, we give them violence. If they want sex, we give them sex. Whatever the audience wants, we’ll give them.”

The budgeting was so cheap that a director was lucky if he earned half of the amount budgeted to pay for the fake blood required for the violent scenes. The whole casts & crews were underpaid too.

Overall, Five Pattern Dragon Claws is a Kung Fu potboiler that’s at it’s best when watching at social occasions with friends or people in general to laugh and drink with.

* Wuxia pian is a term used to describe the swordplay genre in Chinese cinema. It’s used to describe films which feature swordplay/fantasy.

** One of Ken Russell’s sons is Toby Russell, one of the founders of Eastern Heroes (which originally started as a UK Jackie Chan club before becoming a UK Hong Kong action movie club). Toby is now one of the founders of the UK DVD labels Vengeance Video and Rarescope. Rick Baker (his associate/partner-in-crime) is one of the founders for Dragon DVD and Soulblade.

Joseph Kuby’s Rating: 4.5/10

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