Enter The Dragon

What it looks like he’s about to say is essentially what you now are about to be

ENTER THE DRAGON let us know, in no uncertain terms, the price to be paid when Bruce Lee levels that “You have offended my family, and you have offended the Shaolin temple.” The subsequent collecting of dues will be accompanied by high-pitched growls of triumph (zen-aggressive variety) and received-blow impact sounds equal to 105 mm howitzer shells. Many are the ancients among us who recall the ‘dayz of fragment aroma passed’, pressing ‘Rewind’ on VHS players to help count the number of foolishly charging minions Bruce clobbered the holy bliss out of during the legendary One Against Dozens Dungeon Rumpkick scene. To be followed by your basic Mass Melee sequence and the Justified Impaling of Disemclawed Madman in Hall of Shattered Mirrors moment.

“What do you know about this Han-cat?”

Really, again with the mirrors?

A boss title theme from one of Lalo Schifrin’s coolest music scores starts it with a scream of charged attitude. Hong Kong based martial arts instructor/philosophy dispenser Lee (as ‘Lee’) journeys to a private island with a three-fold mission: (1) British Intelligence asks him to get evidence on ‘Han’, the master of the rock, suspected of trafficking drugs and young women. (2) this kingpin has brought shame to Lee’s cherished temple (3) BTW, the cheese’s bodyguard killed Lee’s sister. Thinly veiled 4th reason: Bruce/Lee just enjoys kicking the crap out of opponents, and the bad guy hosts martial arts tournaments. Two confidence-emanating Americans arrive with Lee to fight in the contests, not realizing that leaving the ‘sporting’ event alive isn’t guaranteed.

Tasting one’s blood signals it’s OK to slay

The cartoony, pseudo-Bondish script from Michael Allin (Truck Turner, Flash Gordon) was re-tweaked by the touchy star, who arranged the berserk fight scenes while Robert Clouse (Darker Than Amber) directed the rest. The plot is silly, dialogue meant to be funny is awful, stuff intended as serious is instead a crackup. Never mind, you don’t watch something like this for its redeeming social value.

Reliable vet John Saxon (who had extensive judo training) took a paycheck vacation to Asia to be ‘Roper’, a sort of playboy (in the cocksure lounge lizard style), and karate champ Jim Kelly does ‘Williams’, street-wise, fro-bearing stud at large. The material isn’t exactly Shakespeare (or Shatner) but pro Saxon, 36, merely logged this as another credit (197 from 1954 to 2017), while fresh prince Williams, 26, flipped it into a long run of martial arts/blaxploitation actioners. With a trio of semi-good guys in play this sort of desperate exotic mission requires a decent number of sub-villains to be dealt with. Those whose time will come are well represented by Ahna Capri (‘Tania’, Euro-vixen, Hungarian subset), Robert Wall (‘Oharra’, who has to learn the hard way), Bolo Yeung (as ‘Bolo’, who looks like he can do pretty much whatever he feels like) and Peter Archer (stuck with being named ‘Parsons’, no doubt less-than-thrilled about being dunked in polluted water when rowboat is allowed to sink).

Most crucial of course is that the #1 fiend is a Smug Bastard you can pay smile homage to. Fortunately, besides the displays of flashing fists, flying feet and sonic-boom sound effects ‘Dragon’ is blessed by Shih Kien as ‘Han’, one of the classic evildoers of the 70s. At 59, Kien’s career dated back to 1940 and would ultimately log 310 credits: none would eclipse this role, where he ranges from calmly imperious to enraged loon, complete with a variety of detachable hands (he keeps the bones of his severed left in a display case, the maniac version of a framed track medal), one made of iron (for pummeling), one with blades (for emphasis?), one a furry bear claw with metal spikes (for eventual memorabilia auctions). He’s in super-villain polite host mode when telling everyone something lethal is about to occur—“Gentlemen, it seems that one of you was not content last night with the hospitality of the palace and sought diversion elsewhere on the island. Who it was is not important at this time. What is important is that my guards performed their duties incompetently. And now they must prove themselves worthy to remain among us.” At length this will be followed by the more urgent and direct “Quick, go destroy them. Kill! Kill them! Kill! Fools!”

After a trim $850,000 went into making the production, Warner’s spent over a million dollars on the ad campaign. Lee’s sudden death at 32, one month before the film premiered, further fueled audience anticipation and after it came out in summer of 1973 grosses climbed to eventually reach a dojo rocking $100,000,000. Bruce Fever was international and with worldwide hauls and re-releases the money tornado went stratospheric—$400,000,000, making Enter The Dragon one of the most remunerative movies ever made. Cultural impact reverberated way beyond box office stats, spurring not just more martial arts dragouts but influencing action films in general. Hordes signed up for classes in different aspects of the disciplines/sport/way of life, the New Long March followed by games, parodies, toys, fight clubs, quick-resolved situations, restored egos and crippling injuries. Lifestyles were formed and every town in America, however small, no longer dependably contained a lonely Chinese restaurant but a spartan ‘studio’, run by a guy who had “studied under Master So&So”. Instead of teaching their sons archaic necessities like how to catch a ground ball or which team to owe lifetime loyalty to, dads saw roundhouse kicks and elbow strikes as a bonding stepping stone to that eventual 30-second ‘talk’ about sex (little realizing the internet would beat them to it). All because a one-handed cat named Han picked the wrong temple to tarnish.

Bolo wants not just your lunch money but 007 cologne, Flint lighter and Bat-thermos, too

With Angela Mao, Betty Chung, Li-Jen Ho (200 credits in action adventures, 15 in 1973 alone), Sammo Yung (highly influential actor/producer/director) and 19-year-old Jackie Chan, unbilled as a henchman.