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Join Two Cents Film Club as We Taika ‘nother Look at HUNT FOR THE WILDERPEOPLE
Two Cents is an original column akin to a book club for films. The Cinapse team will program films and contribute our best, most insightful, or most creative thoughts on each film using a maximum of 200 words each. Guest writers and fan comments are encouraged, as are suggestions for future entries to the column. Join us as we share our two cents on films we love, films we are curious about, and films we believe merit some discussion.
The Pick:
As we gear up for Canada’s premiere genre celebration Fantasia International Film Festival, one of our favorite fests, we’re spotlighting some of our favorite FIFF titles from years past. For our first entry in this series, we’ve selected Taika Waititi’s delightful adventure Hunt for The Wilderpeople!
By his own admission, Waititi never set out to be a filmmaker. The acclaimed writer/director and master of deadpan absurdism spent his early days in his native New Zealand pursuing just about every form of artistic expression and performance besides filmmaking before he began trying to his hand at directing short films. This quickly led to an Oscar-nomination (for the short film Two Cars, One Night) which then led to a string of successful films, including low-budget efforts like Boy and What We Do in the Shadows and the Hollywood productions of Thor: Ragnarok and the Oscar-winning JoJo Rabbit.
Perched directly at the intersection of home-spun indie and crowd-pleasing populist fare is The Hunt for the Wilderpeople. With a tone that zips wildly back and forth from absurdist silliness to heart-wrenching reality, Wilderpeople is perhaps the best demonstration of the distinct voice and perspective that Waititi brings to each movie.
Ricky Baker (Julian Dennison) is an orphaned delinquent who, as the film begins, is brought to live with big-hearted Bella (Rima Te Wiata) and her cantankerous husband Hector ‘Hec’ Faulkner (a grizzled Sam Neill). Bella is warned by Paula (Rachel House, Moana’s grandma) that Ricky is a ‘bad egg’ who will almost certainly bring destruction and chaos to the remote farm where she and Hec live.
But Bella believes in the boy, patiently reaching out to the goofy sweetheart she knows is buried beneath his disaffected poses. And miracle of miracles, she starts breaking through Ricky’s defenses. He truly begins to come into his own, and together they start to develop a maternal bond.
Then tragedy strikes and Ricky is left alone with Hec, who has no desire to play parent to this child. Ricky promptly flees into the nearby wilds, accompanied by his dog, Tupac, and then even more promptly gets lost. Hec sets out to rescue the boy, but through a chain of mistakes Paula and the authorities come to believe that Hec has abducted Ricky for some unspeakable end.
Soon Hec and Ricky are forced to flee deeper into the bush, sparking off a cross-country adventure that spirals more and more out of control until both man and boy have become legendary outlaws.
Inspired by Wild Pork and Watercress by Barry Crump (a hugely popular writer in New Zealand), Hunt for the Wilderpeople was an immediate critical darling and popular success when it came out in 2016.
Waititi’s budgets and scales have increased exponentially since then, but let’s set aside Asgard for the moment and return once more into the seemingly-endless wilds of New Zealand and see if we can’t catch ourselves a brace of wilderpeople. — Brendan
Next Week’s Pick:
From Finland comes Heavy Trip, a heavy metal road trip metal comedy that proved a big fan favorite at Fantasia 2018, about an small-town never-was garage metal band that makes the trek to Finland to crash a massive festival and make themselves known. Available streaming on Amazon Prime! — Austin
Would you like to be a guest in next week’s Two Cents column? Simply watch and send your under-200-word review to twocents(at)cinapse.co anytime before midnight on Thursday!
Our Guests
Austin Wilden:
Rima Te Wiata’s performance as Bella Faulkner is the core of Hunt for the Wilderpeople that everything else emanates from. A weaker movie would take the role she plays in the story and be lazy about it. It’d be simple to make the tragedy of her death that she was so saintly and perfect that Ricky instantly connected. Waititi’s script here is smart enough to make her notably imperfect (making a fat joke the first thing you say to the kid you just adopted isn’t the brightest move.) But it’s through her actions in the first portion of the movie that demonstrate what made her the person Ricky needed. Whether showing him how to shoot, sharing her beliefs about the afterlife, or playing that delightfully off-key birthday song, she never makes Ricky feel like he doesn’t have a choice in the matter (“Have some breakfast then you can run away.”)
She knew from the start that Ricky would need to make the choice to accept this new home and family. The ways she connects with him probably aren’t dissimilar from how her and Hector started their relationship. Since he was similarly troubled before they met. It’s why she calls their family a trifecta in her song. They’re all people who had no one else in a society that left them feeling like they had no choice in how they could live.
Something that hadn’t clicked on my previous viewings of Wilderpeople is how the sermon given by Taika Waititi’s cameo as the minister at Bella’s funeral fits the themes of the movie. What’s sticks out to me now is the line “sometimes in life it seems like there’s no way out.” Because without Bella that’s where both Ricky and Hector are left, both planning to disappear from a world that doesn’t have anyone or anything left for them. Their trek while being hunted down by the police through the bush ends up being their journey to find in each other and themselves what Bella saw in them that was worthy of love. (@WC_Wit)
The Team
In this unofficial sequel to Jurassic Park, an older, grumpier Dr. Alan Grant — now going by the name Hector, due to some time in prison — has finally escaped children once and for all by running to the wilderness and living amongst the land and the wild animals… until Julian comes and ruins his serenity. While this may not be the actual plot, it’s hard not to notice much of Grant’s character in Hector, both played by the incredible and unmatchable Sam Neill. Along with Julian Dennison’s Ricky Baker, Neill’s Hector is key to the emotional core of this laugh out loud adventure.
I fell in love with this film when I reviewed it as part of our 2016 Fantasia Festival coverage and have watched it several times since. With a host of great side characters, a breakout performance from Julian Dennison, and Taika Watiti’s remarkable sense of wit (that many of us has yet to discover back in 2016) — The Hunt for the Wilderpeople is such a blast. Thanks to the Two Cents crew for a great excuse to rewatch this gem.
And, for what it’s worth, I’m naming my next dog Psycho, Megatron, or Tupac. (@thepaintedman)
While I have enjoyed every one of Taika Waititi’s films that I’ve seen and consider him one of the most important figures in popular cinema these days, Hunt for the Wilderpeople remains my favorite of anything he’s made.
It’s the one where the tonal balance is exactly right, throwing out absurd jokes fast and furious while also sparing time to linger in sequences of loss and melancholy to truly allow you to feel the pathos the characters are experiencing.
Sam Neill is a key part in that balance, somehow nailing the difficult juggling act of being a believable rugged hardass, and being a ridiculous straight-man to the wacky antics of Dennison as Ricky Baker, and also selling the hell out of the bruised, weary heart of Hec. Neill makes it all seem as easy as breathing, and the rest of the film follows ably in the trail he sets. (@TheTrueBrendanF)
While I have yet to catch up on some of Taika’s earlier pictures, I’m in love with every film he’s made since What We Do in the Shadows, making him one of my favorite active filmmakers. His films are a concoction of whimsy, adventure, humor, and heart, and nowhere is this truer than Wilderpeople.
Taika’s doing well in Hollywood, afforded budgets that can take us to Nazi Germany or the far reaches of the Nine Realms, but I enjoy the rustic local color of his NZ films, which add specific (and authentic) texture to his style.
Fan favorite Sam Neill is the perfect actor to bring life to the gruff but endearing Hec — as Justin points out, he’s already trod similar ground as Alan “Babies Smell” Grant, but I love seeing him act on his home turf in a character that has shades of the real Sam, who is, like Hec, an outdoorsman and farmer.
Hunt for the Wilderpeople is an adventure, but one marked by grief, loss, and healing, bonding two characters, initially at odds, over that shared loss. It’s not the first Taika movie I’ll casually throw on anytime (Thor: Ragnarok and Jojo Rabbit get MUCH PLAY in la Casa Vashaw), but I have a lot of love for it. (@VforVashaw)
Next week’s pick:
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LUCKY GRANDMA Is a Big Winner
Tsai Chin leads as a grumpy grandma in this indie comedy, out on Blu-ray
Tsai Chin has been a supporting actress in films since the ’50s (The Inn of the Sixth Happiness, Casino Royale and The Joy Luck Club among them); now in her 80s, Lucky Grandma is her first starring role. And what a role it is! Grandma has a set routine: have dinner with her son and his family once a week, light incense in her husband’s memory each night, go to the pool for tai chi, and take the bus with other Chinatown retirees to Foxwoods Casino. Her son wants her to move in with them, but she appreciates the small apartment she’s made her own.
The film opens with Grandma receiving a card reading — the first visuals of Lucky Grandma immediately bring to mind the start of Varda’s Cleo from 5 to 7. Unlike Cleo, Grandma receives an auspicious fortune. Assured of good luck, she removes money from savings and gets on the bus to Foxwoods. The caper begins with a bag of money she, um, finds, on the bus ride home. Soon a couple of dim-witted gangsters are involved, and Grandma hires her own bodyguard, gentle giant Big Pong (Hsiao-Yuan Ha, who I sincerely hope to see in more films after this).
Courtesy of Eduardo Mayén and Good Deed Entertainment Based on a screenplay by Angela Cheng and director Sasie Sealy, Lucky Grandma has the cadence of a Coen Brothers farce with a style all its own. Using sharp editing and a score that somehow fuses jazzy horns and electronic beats, the film never loses momentum. The physicality involved in Chin’s performance is astounding, and she plays so well this cantankerous old soul who aims to keep her independence (even if it involves lying to two rival gangs).
It is still rare to see an American film showcasing a large Asian American cast, and showcasing an older actress in the lead makes Lucky Grandma even more of a rare gem. The film offers a fun distraction from our current madness, and the Kino Lorber Blu-ray release includes enough special features to be worth the investment.
Courtesy of Eduardo Mayén and Good Deed Entertainment
The Blu-ray release from Kino Lorber and Good Deed Entertainment includes the theatrical trailer and a number of short features, including:
- an interview with Tsai Chin
- director Sasie Sealy and her co-writer Angela Cheng speak about their years of working on this film and the importance of representation in media (plus there’s footage of them winning a $1 million grant from AT&T towards production of the film)
- a short about filming and casting in Chinatown
The film is also available to rent via VOD.
Get it at Amazon:
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TENDER MERCIES: A Quiet Country Classic Returns on Blu-ray
Oscar-winner Robert Duvall and Tess Harper shine in a soft-spoken, big-hearted ode of redemption
There’s a certain skill in creating a country music film that parcels out its songs like closely guarded secrets — much like the real secrets held by each of the strong-hearted but soft-spoken characters of Bruce Beresford’s Tender Mercies.
The Oscar-winning screenplay by Horton Foote follows former singing superstar Mac Sledge (Robert Duvall) as he wins the heart of widowed backroads motel owner Rosa Lee (Tess Harper) and quits his rampant alcoholism. Just when Mac’s settled down, though, his past — in the form of his still-famous ex-wife (Betty Buckley) and his estranged daughter (Ellen Barkin) — returns like a specter on a never-ending tour. Foote’s script, running at a taut 90 minutes, runs at a clip of intriguing character reveals and tension-loaded silences — from withholding the fact that Mac’s even a country star until 20 minutes into the film, to the slow reveal of Mac’s estranged relationships (and even Rosa Lee’s widowed past) throughout the course of the film.
Tender Mercies seems to dance around the periphery of the film one would rather expect it to be. It’s a film with country music, but isn’t a country music film. It’s a film about recovery from personal demons that plays through the bulk of its alcoholism recovery tropes within the first 10 minutes. It’s as if Beresford and Foote do their utmost to resist the siren call of more bombastic plot developments — because they recognize just how earth-shaking some of the characters’ decisions are in their own right, from the choice to begin recording again to Rosa Lee’s acceptance of Mac as the father figure he never had (as well as what Mac never really got the chance to be himself).
As such, this quiet film about slow-earned redemption and forgiveness retains an unusual power over its audience — you’re never quite sure where you should let your sympathies lie with Mac. But Foote, Beresford, and Duvall know that’s part of the flip-side of redemption — how much we know about someone plays into our capacity for forgiveness, of attachment — which makes Mac’s transformation and self-forgiveness all the more compelling to watch.
Anchoring it all are the sincere performances by fellow Oscar-winner Duvall and Tess Harper. Harper refuses to let Rosa Lee play as a tragic victim of circumstance, infusing her with a steadfast grit that Mac sees as a beacon towards his own recovery, while at the same time reckoning with the challenges she must contend with and the secrets she must keep as a single mother. I’ve known Duvall more from his more outspoken or dramatic work — Apocalypse Now, The Godfather series, and THX-1138 — but damn, if this isn’t a great performance. Mac is a heartfelt yet bitter man — unsure of his own right to walk the Earth. He treats each kind gesture with suspicion — not of whoever’s offering it to Mac, but endlessly questioning why it would be offered to him in the first place. But Duvall and Harper both allow each other the freedom to coax that more vulnerable side out of one another. Coupled with Foote’s screenplay, the natural chemistry that blossoms between Mac and Rosa Lee as a result makes Tender Mercies more than live up to its title.
Video/Audio
Kino Lorber presents Tender Mercies in a 1080p HD transfer in its original 1.85:1 aspect ratio, with an accompanying 2.0 Mono sound mix. English subtitles are presented for the main feature. Picture quality is consistently warm throughout the feature, with a welcome amount of film grain and minimal dust/artifacting which overall accentuates Tender Mercies’ middle-of-nowhere Texan setting. While the transfer doesn’t seem to be a new restoration, picture quality does manage to preserve a healthy amount of detail, from wilted fields to chipping paint. Audio for a mono mix is slightly muffled yet retains a vibrant twang, especially when it comes to the film’s country soundtrack.
Special Features
- Audio Commentary by critic and author Simon Abrams.
- Miracles and Mercies: An archival documentary featuring interviews with director Bruce Beresford, writer/co-producer Horton Foote, and stars Robert Duvall, Tess Harper, and Allan Hubbard.
- Trailers for Tender Mercies and True Confessions.
Tender Mercies is now available on Blu-ray and DVD from Kino Lorber Studio Classics.
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SPUTNIK: A Striking Morality Play Lurks Within This Fun Soviet Creature Feature
Egor Abramenko’s debut feature is a deft blend of medical drama, Cold War intrigue, and alien terror
спутник (Sputnik): Russian, “satellite,” or “fellow traveler.”
1983. The USSR’s Orbit-4 has crash-landed in Kazakhstan, leaving one conscious survivor of its 2-person crew: Konstantin (Pyotr Fyodorov), who has no memory of what happened between losing contact with Mission Control and his arrival back on earth. Naturally, the incident is covered up by the State — who subsequently calls in doctor Tatiana (Oksana Akinshina) to evaluate Konstantin’s condition. Upon arrival to the remote base where the Cosmonaut is being quarantined, Tatiana discovers the first of many challenging secrets — an alien parasite has seized hold of Konstantin like an organic spacesuit, exiting for an hour at a time while Konstantin sleeps as if slowly acclimating to its host’s planet. Officials are desperate to split the alien from its Cosmonaut shell before Konstantin can be paraded in public as a Soviet hero — knowing there’s only so much time before the public’s suspicion about his quarantine boils over. But Tatiana’s ingenuity gives way to doubt and rebellion as she discover more disturbing secrets about the alien, its human host, and their military captors.
From its opening moments, Sputnik does away with traditional alien terror in favor of much more insidious terrors of morality. under trial for risking the life of her young patient in order to cure him of seizures, Tatiana posits herself as a strong-spirited doctor determined to take the most logical measures to save her charges, no matter how risky they may be. But Oleg Malovichko and Andrey Zolotarev’s efficient script acts as a steadily-snowballing moral avalanche for both Tatiana and her patient, quickly speeding us through exposition most films would meter out over entire runtimes in the breath of a scene in order to get to Sputnik’s more meatier material. Tatiana maintains her cool edge towards Konstantin, but as she gets to know him as a human being rather than just a host to something very inhuman, she finds herself increasingly at odds with the culture of loyalty and secrecy both her and Konstantin grew up in.
Without ruining the surprises Sputnik has in store, questions quickly arise far beyond the more horrific deep ends of bedside manner. Throughout Sputnik, Abramenko creates an indivisible link between this alien, its host, and what’s expected of them both by the militaristic prison that holds them captive — and Tatiana becomes an unwilling mediator between all three. Sure, Konstantin is a Soviet hero for his valor in space — but how quickly will that dubious honor last if he possibly infects everyone with alien pathogens? At what point do you tell someone that the potential bioweapon inside them is worth more to their superiors than their own life? And, in a culture that prizes obedience and superiority, no matter the cost, at what point do you decide to fight back? I went into Sputnik not knowing much more than its premise of alien-infected astronaut with amnesia — and was caught pleasantly off guard by the gruesome glee and gravity with which the film further explores its ideas.
That’s not to say all of the detours Sputnik takes with its plot are wholly successful. Some third act sympathetic turns feel like big asks considering the preceding carnage, and a recurring subplot in a country orphanage with links to one of our protagonists feels increasingly like a fizzling fuse amidst the fireworks of the finale. Coupled together, they build to a finale that feels exhausting rather than exhilarating, and make what could’ve been a more memorable impact of an ending feel like a slightly misguided missed opportunity.
But as draining as a film that swings its thematic pendulum between Cold War moral rumination and alien body horror can be, Oksana Akinshina, Pyotr Fyodorov, and the rest of the film’s cast navigate such thematic left turns with considerable ease. While Tatiana may let a slight tremor or glance reveal how terrified she may be under understandably terrifying circumstances, Akinshina doesn’t use these as potential betrayals of Tatiana’s calm, collected demeanor. Rather, they’re tells that keep us connected to a character that, despite her passion for her work, has cultivated a diligent, emotionless persona in order to succeed. They’re a must in a field where “colleagues” like rival base doctor Yan (Anton Vasilev) might see them as humbling or disqualifying weaknesses. Konstantin, as we come to learn, has crafted his own persona as well — he’s far from the brave, patriotic Cosmonaut that State media paints him to be, and once saw Space as an escape from his more Earthly troubles. As more comes to light about the alien living inside him, he grows to see his imprisonment (and everything connected to it) as a requisite penance. Sputnik’s dedication to its character work, though uneven it might sometimes be when connecting them to more fantastic plot points, grounds the story in a sense of realism akin to international efforts like last year’s Annihilation or HBO’s Chernobyl.
And, like those aforementioned efforts, Sputnik should be commended for its efforts to create realistic creatures and an equally historically-faithful world for them to wreak havoc in. Production designer Mariya Slavina and costumer Ulyana Polyanskaya create an authentic-feeling recreation of the last days of the USSR, namely within a labyrinthine military base that looks imposing and officious, yet already bears some of the wear and tear that hints at a larger sense of impending ruin. The visual effects from Main Road Post result in an alien creature design that allows the viewer to infer quite a bit from its unexplained origins and attitudes — Sputnik’s beastie undulates and flares much like a territorial cobra, striking to protect its host almost like a surrogate parent from beyond.
Altogether, Abramenko and his crew fashion Sputnik into a well-crafted, realistic sci-fi horror film that indulges in the sparse yet delightfully gruesome moments fans no doubt expect, while also imbuing those moments with considerable dramatic heft.
Sputnik is now available on VOD and in select theaters courtesy of IFC Midnight.
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GAMERA Heisei Trilogy Screen Comparisons: New Arrow Video Restorations vs Mill Creek
We put Arrow’s new GAMERA Blu-rays head to head against Mill Creek’s 2011 Heisei Trilogy
This article contains several comparisons which contrast the older Mill Creek Blu-ray transfer with the new Arrow Video restoration. The frames aren’t necessarily exact matches, but should give a solid indication of the visual differences.
Coming August 18 from Arrow Video, the massive Gamera: The Complete Collection oversized box set will collect all 12 Gamera films together for the first time, plus limited edition content including an 80-page companion book and 120-page comic collection.
All 12 films have had prior US Blu-ray releases, 11 of which were published through through Mill Creek in a series of inexpensive multipacks released in 2010–2011, and eventually in a rarer complete boxed set of all eleven films. The franchise’s most recent reboot Gamera The Brave was published separately by Tokyo Shock in 2013.
The Heisei Trilogy
After its initial run of 8 Showa-era films produced from 1965–1980, the titanic turtle received a slick, effects-heavy reboot in the 90s, commonly known to fans as the Heisei Trilogy. (The Showa and Heisei eras of Japanese history are also similarly used as shorthand to designate the Godzilla series before and after The Return of Godzilla).
This screen comparisons article focuses solely on the Heisei Trilogy films, which utilize a new 4K restoration by Kadokawa Pictures. Across all three films, my observations are the same, as the experience is pretty consistent. Unquestionably, the new restoration is far sharper, and with terrific color correction and very fine grain. The older discs tended to have a warmer/golden tone, while the restoration is balanced much cooler. While the new transfers can occasionally skew too blue, in all meaningful metrics, the Arrow’s editions are clearly definitive.
Top: Old Mill Creek // Bottom: New Arrow Video However I do concede one important bragging right to the older transfers: while less pristine and far from technically perfect, they do look a lot like old theatrical 35mm prints and there’s value in that. Additionally, at times the lesser clarity does somewhat mask the unreality of the special effects.
One last thought — I don’t usually bring up these kinds of technical details because they can be misleading and it’s better to trust your eyes, but in this case there’s a very marked difference worth noting. Put simply, Arrow’s movie file sizes are approximately 2–3 times larger than their counterparts on the Mill Creek discs (which also combined movies 1 and 2 onto a single disc). It’s not a pure 1:1 comparison since Arrow has added multiple audio tracks, but even so it’s clear from the massive difference in file sizes that these new restorations carry far a greater data load/bit rate, and less compression.
Gamera: Guardian of the Universe (1995)
Top: Old Mill Creek // Bottom: New Arrow Video 
Top: Old Mill Creek // Bottom: New Arrow Video 
Top: Old Mill Creek // Bottom: New Arrow Video 
Top: Old Mill Creek // Bottom: New Arrow Video 
Top: Old Mill Creek // Bottom: New Arrow Video 
Top: Old Mill Creek // Bottom: New Arrow Video 
Top: Old Mill Creek // Bottom: New Arrow Video 
Top: Old Mill Creek // Bottom: New Arrow Video
Gamera 2: Attack of Legion (1996)
Top: Old Mill Creek // Bottom: New Arrow Video 
Top: Old Mill Creek // Bottom: New Arrow Video 
Top: Old Mill Creek // Bottom: New Arrow Video 
Top: Old Mill Creek // Bottom: New Arrow Video 
Top: Old Mill Creek // Bottom: New Arrow Video 
Top: Old Mill Creek // Bottom: New Arrow Video 
Top: Old Mill Creek // Bottom: New Arrow Video 
Top: Old Mill Creek // Bottom: New Arrow Video Gamera 3: Revenge of Iris (1999)
Top: Old Mill Creek // Bottom: New Arrow Video 
Top: Old Mill Creek // Bottom: New Arrow Video 
Top: Old Mill Creek // Bottom: New Arrow Video 
Top: Old Mill Creek // Bottom: New Arrow Video 
Top: Old Mill Creek // Bottom: New Arrow Video 
Top: Old Mill Creek // Bottom: New Arrow Video 
Top: Old Mill Creek // Bottom: New Arrow Video 
Top: Old Mill Creek // Bottom: New Arrow Video 
Top: Old Mill Creek // Bottom: New Arrow Video
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If you enjoy reading Cinapse, purchasing items through our affiliate links can tip us with a small commission at no additional cost to you.Except where noted, all 16:9 screen images in this review are direct captures from the disc(s) in question with no editing applied, but may have compression or resizing inherent to file formats and Medium’s image system. All package photography was taken by the reviewer.
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Bruce Lee: His Greatest Hits, Part 3: GAME OF DEATH & Bruce Lee’s Legacy
In which Bruce Lee crosses over into myth and legend
This being my final piece of coverage on the Criterion Collection’s phenomenal box set Bruce Lee: His Greatest Hits, it’s safe to say that this is the home video release of 2020. With each disc that highlights a particular feature film being packed to the gills with supplemental material, there are also two entire other discs (making a total 7) that feature nothing but incredible bonus content enough to satisfy even the most profoundly passionate Bruce Lee fan. I’ll go in depth on some of those features below after offering brief reviews on Game Of Death, Game Of Death Redux, and Game Of Death II.
Game Of Death (1978)
I hate Game Of Death ‘78.
It absolutely, 100%, without a shadow of a doubt HAD to be included in this exhaustive Bruce Lee box set, and Criterion was right to feature it as its own film with its own Blu-ray dedicated to it. After all, it became the second highest grossing “Bruce Lee” film behind only Enter The Dragon and features some of the most iconic imagery of Lee’s entire career.
But I’d argue that this is the worst single film to be given the Criterion Collection seal of approval. It’s simply unbearable to sit through after watching each Bruce Lee film get progressively better than the last, seeing Lee grow into a formidable, multi-threat talent before and behind the camera… and then to see his humanity absolutely desecrated in a cash-grab film produced by his own collaborators from Golden Harvest pictures and Enter The Dragon.
To clarify, Game Of Death is a film released many years after Bruce Lee’s tragic death that was retrofitted into a feature film in such a way as to use some of the real footage which Lee shot as writer/director/star of his own version of Game Of Death. Having passed away before he could finish the project, Golden Harvest caved to fan pressure and cashed in on the memory of their departed star and managed to piece together just about the most crass, disrespectful, and dubious major feature film I can recall.
Writer/Director Robert Clouse creates a character named Billy Lo, a rising movie star much like Lee himself was, only Lo is indebted to some weird organized crime group in Hong Kong that is inexplicably run by white people. Lo is played by multiple Bruce Lee lookalike actors throughout the film and frequently they are hidden behind giant sunglasses, surgical bandages, bad camera angles, inexcusably dark lighting, or in one instance just flat out hiding an actor’s face behind what appears to be a cardboard cutout of Bruce Lee’s face. It’s mind boggling. Clouse writes around his absent star by having hugely uninteresting villain characters deliver all the exposition and making all the major plot movements happen, which is pretty inexcusable in any movie that hopes to engage its audience. It’s laughable that the script involves Lo faking his own death after a facial injury and therefore needing to spend huge portions of the film in bandages or behind a “disguise”. And if Game Of Death had stopped there, perhaps it might have been just a wild curio for cynical audiences. It might even be enjoyed as the trashy exploitation it is. Except that Game Of Death goes even a step further into pure desecration territory when it includes real live footage from Bruce Lee’s actual funeral, even going so far as to show us the open casket of the fallen legend. And frankly that just turns my stomach. It’s not the visual of our fallen hero so much as it is the sheer disrespect of the entire enterprise. Don’t intercut your trashy exploitation film with real, vulnerable images of sobbing Hong Kongers mourning a fallen idol. Just don’t do that. Golden Harvest and Robert Clouse should have known better.
But then… against all odds, as Game Of Death reaches its climax, there appears the real Bruce Lee in his yellow track suit, working his way up a pagoda and fighting a few different martial arts masters, culminating in a battle with the legendary Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, who is over 7 feet tall and a real life student of Lee’s. It only lasts for about 12 minutes of the total film… but it’s so damn energizing as to convey an almost supernatural thrill. Here is our hero back from the grave displaying all the charisma and raw talent and deep philosophy which made us fall in love with him in the first place. I hate to admit it, but had I been alive and consenting in 1978… I probably would have shelled out the money to buy a ticket to this crass piece of shit JUST for those glorious 12 minutes of bursting vitality and singular poise.
Game Of Death can’t be excused or shrugged off as a silly or fun exploitation picture because if those with whom we collaborated and shared our dreams can’t resist selling out our memory for a quick buck, who can we trust? Game Of Death would be an unconscionable tragedy if it weren’t for those glorious moments when the true legend shines so brightly for one last fight.
Game Of Death Redux
Hands down the coolest piece of supplemental material on this entire box set loaded with supplemental material, Game Of Death Redux almost single handedly washes the taste of Game Of Death ’78 out of one’s mouth. Don’t miss my interview with Game Of Death Redux producer and editor Alan Canvan for a whole lot of background on how this project came to be and how it ended up being included in this box set.
Here is our best ever glimpse into the vision Bruce Lee truly had for Game Of Death. Here is an almost 40 minute short film that flows and fits and functions as a real movie. Golden Harvest would have done SO much better to have released something like what Canvan put together and ship it around the world to honor Bruce Lee’s legacy and give fans the footage they were clamoring for instead of the mockery that is Game Of Death ’78. But I digress.
Canvan makes a point here to tighten up the footage and really take into account both the filmmaking prowess Lee would have striven for in his final product, as well as the thematic elements of the lessons about life and Kung Fu that Lee would have wanted to convey. And most importantly… fans just get something special here, a resurrection of footage many of us had never seen before. It feels like we’re getting to watch a “new” Bruce Lee movie and it’s as charming and beguiling and utterly badass as Bruce intended. Game Of Death Redux cannot be missed, especially if you’ve always wondered what was going on with Kareem Abdul Jabbar’s sunglasses in that final battle.
Game Of Death II
Believe it or not, Golden Harvest doubled down on their shameful exploitation of Bruce Lee with an entire sequel to the ill-advised Game Of Death. And, against all odds… it’s a drastically better film than Game Of Death! As only Golden Harvest could do, with their vaults of real Bruce Lee footage ripe for, well, harvest… Game Of Death II follows the Billy Lo character as he tries to look out for his brother (using dubbing and shots from every Bruce Lee film under the sun), gets murdered, and then we abandon Billy completely and simply follow his brother, who gets vengeance for Billy by burrowing down, into the ground, fighting progressively more challenging villainous martial arts masters in an underground futuristic bunker.
While Game Of Death II ALSO briefly shows footage of the actual Bruce Lee funeral, the rest of the movie feels like the playful homage to Bruce Lee that perhaps Game Of Death thought it was. It’s not a great film by any stretch, but by spinning its own narrative and crafting its own “Shaw Brothers meets James Bond” style, it at least doesn’t feel like it has to hide its “not Bruce Lee” protagonist and kill any hope for a few fun martial arts scenes in a classic villainous lair.
The Package & Beyond
Criterion has outdone itself with Bruce Lee: His Greatest Hits. You come to this because you want a beautifully put together box containing all of Bruce Lee’s major works in one set, a feat not widely available before. But you stay for a frankly expansive supplemental experience featuring new interviews, archival commentaries and behind-the-scenes features, classic interviews, and two entire discs worth of supplemental material on TOP of the discs featuring the primary films. One those bonus discs is where you’ll find Game Of Death II, and another feature length documentary called Bruce Lee: The Man And The Legend, which is perhaps where Golden Harvest pulled from for all that footage of Bruce Lee’s funeral which was so offensively used in Game Of Death. This documentary is less crass than Game Of Death, but not by much. There’s incredible footage inside of the Lee family home and following Linda, Brandon, and Shannon through their mourning. It’s worth a watch even if the narration is melodramatic.
On the final disc there’s a different cut of Enter The Dragon and a whole lot of great featurettes, perhaps most notably one featuring cinema expert Grady Hendrix talking about the phenomena of Brucesploitation films. It’s humorous and insightful and just plain wonderful.
Perhaps, most importantly, what Criterion is able to contribute to with the release of this set, is a collective remembrance and rediscovery of Bruce Lee. More than just a movie star, Bruce Lee was a global phenomenon, a Chinese American cultural tsunami, and a meaningful thinker, philosopher, and teacher. Through gathering so much of Bruce Lee’s most widely known achievements into one gorgeous package, Criterion makes it easy for new fans and devotees alike to have one definitive place to go when they want to become acquainted with Bruce Lee or sit at the feet of a legend and soak in something new from his legacy. For me, Bruce Lee: His Greatest Hits isn’t just a slick new product to own, but more like a beloved novel that will stay with me for life and be revisited over the years with reverence and awe thanks to the indelible subject on whom it is focused. It’s not hyperbole to say that experiencing Bruce Lee as deeply as this box set allowed me to was something akin to standing on cinematic holy ground. Bruce’s story is one of tenacity. It’s also an immigrant story. A Chinese story. An American story. A triumph and a tragedy. There is so much to glean from both the human being that Bruce Lee was, and the iconic, legendary status which he now (and forever) occupies in our collective conscience. Sure, they’re just a bunch of slapdash kung fu exploitation films if that’s how you want to see them. But if you want to seek out why Bruce Lee has attained the legendary status he has, you’ll be able to find that here.
And I’m Out.
Bruce Lee: His Greatest Hits is now available of Blu-ray from The Criterion Collection
Part 1 covered the first two discs in this box set: The Big Boss & Fist Of Fury
Part 2 covered the second two discs in this box set: The Way of the Dragon & Enter The Dragon
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SPINEMA Issue 44: Mondo Woos Hans Zimmer’s MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE 2 Score to Vinyl
Love or (foolishly) hate the movie, M:I-2 unquestionably boasts one of the coolest action scores of the 2000s
New from Mondo, one of the greatest action scores of all time finally makes its way to turntables in expanded form! Hans Zimmer’s Mission: Impossible 2, from the film by John Woo, is finally here and in vinyl form. Even if you dislike the film, a controversial entry in the M:I canon, please don’t extend those feelings toward the thrilling, varied, and evocative music which makes up its accompanying soundtrack.
Mission: Impossible 2 – Music From The Motion Picture Score Expanded Edition 2XLP
Unboxing the Package
Jacket
The LP jacket has a full tracklist on the back side. An informative U-card (spine cover), typical of Mondo releases, is also included.
The cover image comes from one of the film’s most iconic scenes, but the overall design feels flat and plain, especially compared to many Mondo editions with beautifully illustrated poster-style art. However, to put this into perspective, it is in perfect keeping with the theme established by the prior Mission: Impossible release. Viewing these side by side, you can immediately see where they’re going with this, and probably even map out the next four entries in your head. Big points for design consistency!
Anyway, here’s a better look at the packaging:
Insert
LPs
The records come in both standard black and an explosive “Fire” variant. No surprises on the black edition of course, but the Fire edition shows a lot of variety between the sides. Even the flipsides of the same records are quite different, and certainly not merely mirror images of each other. Sometimes colored vinyl choices are a stretch, but not this one — the explosive orange appearance perfectly captures John Woo’s aesthetic for the film.
Side 1A – Fire Variant 
Side 1A – Black Version 
Side 1B – Fire Variant 
Side 1B – Black Version 
Side 2A – Fire Variant 
Side 2A – Black Version 
Side 2B – Fire Variant 
Side 2B – Black Version Label include full Track Listings for all four sides.
Side 1A – Fire Variant 
Side 1A – Black Version 
Side 1B – Fire Variant 
Side 1B – Black Version 
Side 2A – Fire Variant 
Side 2A – Black Version 
Side 2B – Fire Variant 
Side 2B – Black Version 
The Music
Hans Zimmer’s score to Mission: Impossible 2 is a personal favorite of mine. The film incorporates Woo’s heightened sense of melodrama, and the score wholeheartedly embraces that choice, delivering a magnificent, opulent saga of pain and passion.
A great deal of variety is featured in the music. In keeping with the globetrotting nature of the narrative, the traditional orchestral themes are augmented with international flavors — swelling choruses, Spanish guitars and flamenco, crunchy guitar-driven rock, organic percussion, funk, and even a bit of electronic flair, not to mention what remains to date the heaviest version of Lalo Schifrin’s iconic Mission: Impossible theme, variations of which appear on a handful of different tracks.
The story and character of Nyah (Thandie Newtown) is very much at the center of much of the score, and the music does such a magnificent job of relating the turmoil of her inner state, from her conflicted romance with Ethan and fearfully dangerous espionage mission to her contemplation of suicide.
In its CD form, M:I-2 has already been one of my favorite film scores for the two decades since its release, and it’s immensely exciting that this new expanded edition, spanning across 2 LPs, brings much more to the table, “for the first time in any format… Hans Zimmer’s complete score sourced from the original master tapes”, including several new tracks. As a score that I know pretty well inside and out, it’s exciting to hear these new additions.
There are a couple casualties in the transition. The album’s cover image features an iconic rock climbing scene set at the film’s opening — an ironic choice, as this scene in the film is set to Zap Mama’s catchy rendition of Iko Iko, which does not appear on this album. That song is technically not part of Zimmer’s score so “no foul”, but it was included on the prior score album so in that context the omission is noteworthy.
A considerably bigger letdown is a change in the handling of the score’s single best composition, Bare Island, which accompanies one of the film’s biggest emotional climaxes. That piece is greatly expanded here, which is wonderful to have, but… the change-up rearranges the music in a fashion that eliminates its very best key moment, an epic choral crescendo that should immediately launch into a fist-pumping guitar riff of the M:I theme (which is how the piece unfolds in both the prior score album and in the film itself). Instead, the new reworking simply ends the piece precisely at that moment, depriving the listener of the payoff. It’s truly a regrettable choice.
To me, this one small but major caveat is really the only thing holding this back from being an ideal score album, because in all other ways, it’s excellent.
Tracklist
Disc One Side A
01. Hijack (5:32)+
02. Mission: Impossible Theme (0:36)
03. Seville — Part I & II (2:07)
04. The Heist (2:40)
05. Sunset Ride (0:38)*
06. Seville — Part III (1:52)
07. Nyah (Film Version) — Hans Zimmer feat. Heitor Pereira (2:42)
08. Nekhorvich’s Message (1:18)*
09. Nyah’s True Mission (2:27)*Disc One Side B
01. The Bait (2:51) +
02. Ambrose Welcomes Nyah (4:08)*
03. The Chimera Myth (1:30)*
04. Finger Cutting (0:47)*
05. At The Race Track (7:06)*
06. McCloy Gets Gas / Nyah Tries To Escape (5:21)*Disc Two Side A
01. McCloy In Hospital / Ambrose Knows (2:46)*
02. Breaking Into Biocyte (3:02)+
03. Chimera — Part I (3:25)+
04. Bio-Techno (1:51)
05. Injection (4:28)
06. Chimera — Part II (6:18)+Disc Two Side B
01. Bare Island — Part I (2:24)
02. Bare Island — Part II (3:02)
03. Mano A Mano — Part I (4:15)
04. Bare Island — Part III & IV (7:29)+
05. Mano A Mano — Part II (5:17)++ Expanded Tracks
* Previously Unreleased in any format
Verdict:
An incredible expanded release of one of the greatest and most underrated action scores of all time, unfortunately marred by a rearrangement that inadvertently neutralizes its greatest moment.
A/V Out.
Get it at Amazon: https://amzn.to/2BVjCCp
If you enjoy reading Cinapse, purchasing items through our affiliate links can tip us with a small commission at no additional cost to you.Mission: Impossible 2 – Music From The Motion Picture Score Expanded Edition 2XLP
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Two Cents Film Club: In Memory of John Saxon, ENTER THE DRAGON!
Two Cents is an original column akin to a book club for films. The Cinapse team will program films and contribute our best, most insightful, or most creative thoughts on each film using a maximum of 200 words each. Guest writers and fan comments are encouraged, as are suggestions for future entries to the column. Join us as we share our two cents on films we love, films we are curious about, and films we believe merit some discussion.
The Pick:
One of the most popular martial arts movies ever made, 1973’s Enter the Dragon has remained a major influence for virtually every form of media, from movies to comics to video games to music and on and on.
With its larger-than-life heroes and villains, its secret-island-tournament-to-the-death narrative hook, and its bevy of iconic fights from the Shaolin temple opening to the mirror maze climax, arguably no martial arts film has ever been so important to Western audiences until maybe Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon in 2000.
Enter the Dragon also firmly established Bruce Lee as an international icon, achieving what a long, often humiliating stretch in Hollywood failed to. Tragically, Lee suddenly and shockingly passed away at the age of only 32 right before the film was set to release. Lee’s legacy remains a major part of the cultural conversation, in everything from Quentin Tarantino’s controversial fictionalized version in Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, to this summer’s massive Criterion box-set and a multi-part documentary about his life aired on ESPN.
While Lee would appear in numerous films in the years after his death, often utilizing out-takes, deleted scenes, or body doubles (of WILDLY varying quality levels) Enter the Dragon was his final completed movie.
Directed by Robert Gymkata Clouse, Enter the Dragon stars Lee as…um…“Lee”, a Shaolin master recruited by British intelligence to go undercover in an exclusive martial arts tournament hosted on the island lair of the mysterious criminal mastermind Han (Shih Kien, dubbed by Keye Luke).
Also competing in the tournament are cocky Vietnam vet Williams (Jim Kelly) and desperate gambler Roper (John Saxon). Across a series of duels, the men circle each other and draw closer to the evil Han and his sinister plans, heading towards a deadly confrontation.
While Lee was the film’s clear lead and center (a position he stridently protected) Kelly also exited Enter the Dragon as a movie star, credited as the first black martial arts movie star. He starred in a series of blaxploitation movies across the ’70s, including Black Belt Jones, before succumbing to cancer in 2013.
The last survivor of “the Deadly Three” was John Saxon, who passed away last week at the age of 83. Saxon was a veteran character actor with twenty years in the film industry under his belt before Enter the Dragon.
While never a leading man, Saxon continued to work steadily throughout the ’70s and ’80s, always bringing the best of his abilities to even the smallest roles. Many of his films enjoy ongoing popular and cult followings, including Black Christmas, Battle Beyond the Stars, and Dario Argento’s Tenebrae.
In 1984, thirty years into his career, he landed perhaps his most well-known role: Lt. Donald Thompson, the father of Heather Langenkamp’s Nancy in Wes Craven’s genre-redefining slasher classic, A Nightmare on Elm Street.
Saxon appeared in a couple of the better Elm Street sequels and continued to pop up in genre fare, like From Dusk Til Dawn. Upon his passing, there was a massive outpouring of love and affection for his work across the decades as a character actor who brought legitimacy to every role he was tasked with.
And so we say goodbye to Mr. Saxon and prepare, once more, to Enter the Dragon.
Next Week’s Pick
For our next film club pick we’re both celebrating the life of Hollywood legend Oliva de Havilland and highlighting a film that’s a very beloved favorite among our film club regulars. Please join us for The Adventures of Robin Hood, available streaming on HBO Max!
Would you like to be a guest in next week’s Two Cents column? Simply watch and send your under-200-word review to twocents(at)cinapse.co anytime before midnight on Thursday!
The Team
So, this week I’ve watched a few John Saxon films and I’ve got to say that I’m really happy he left us with a fun legacy of good roles in fun genre fare. While my favorite this week was my umpteenth rewatch of A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors, it’s safe to say that this was right behind it. And, as far as roles go, I think he does more and does it better here.
While this quarantine period started with me going heavy into the Shaw Brothers catalog and watching some other solid Kung Fu films, I haven’t watched many in the past month or two. Moreover, Bruce Lee is a pretty big blindspot for me. Enter the Dragon is definitely one of his most well known films, so it’s ridiculous that I have never properly watched it, though this viewing confirmed that there were many iconic scenes I’ve seen throughout the years and a few shots that emblazoned many a poster I saw at Sam Goody or Hot Topic.
I truly enjoyed watching this one and will make sure this is a jumpoff point into diving further into his filmography in the coming weeks and months. In other words, Kung Fu Quarantine is back, bitches! (@thepaintedman)
A lot of times when Hollywood slams together a bunch of disparate popular elements, the results are such a tangled, instantly-dated mess, that it’s hard to understand how anyone could have believed those flavors could go well together (or tasted good at all).
But Enter the Dragon is that rare programmer where all the elements gibe together and just straight-up work. The James Bond-y spy shenanigans provide a perfect cartoonish framing device for all the martial arts action, and Clouse delivers on the promise of his premise by giving Lee, Kelly, Saxon, and the myriad of stunt performers ample room to impress.
Lee was reportedly at least somewhat paranoid that the studio would try to snake his own movie out from under him and make the white guy the star (as they had with Kung Fu), but as is the duo balance each other perfectly. Lee is a blazing sun, a movie star coming fully into his own and operating at the height of his powers, while Saxon does a character actor’s busy-work and keeps what could have been the grinding scenes of plot advancement humming along with his charming low-life.
While Enter the Dragon isn’t one of my own personal favorites in the martial arts canon, its iconic status is well-earned and the movie stands the test of time as an engaging and exciting time. (@TheTrueBrendanF)
I didn’t realize it at the time, but my original viewing of Enter the Dragon many years ago wasn’t just a continuance through the amazing filmography of Bruce Lee. His costars also let a big impact. It was the perfect introduction for Jim Kelly, coinciding with my burgeoning interest in blaxploitation fare, and also to John Saxon, who became an actor I’d come to greatly appreciate and delight in seeing pop up in random movies, from mainstream appearances on Elm Street to oddball genre obscurities like The Glove.
The impact of Enter The Dragon is incalculable. Beyond all the Brucesploitaiton and parody, the film certainly paved the way for kung fu stars to command global audiences, and set the template for fighting games like Mortal Kombat and Tekken, which brazenly steal its plot. Few things can make be feel more robbed than to think that Bruce Lee exited this plane at the height of his powers, after his biggest breakthrough. It’s almost better not to imagine what could have been, a world where Enter the Dragon was simply “early Bruce Lee”. (@VforVashaw)
Iconic and record shattering in every way, there’s no doubt that Enter The Dragon is the film most Bruce Lee fans immediately associate with him and which largely introduced him as a superstar and cultural icon in the western world. In and of itself, I’d argue that Enter The Dragon lives up to that hype today and stands out on its own as a top notch action/martial arts film at just the right time in history to really push the envelope. Bruce Lee would never live to see the cultural impact the film would have, passing away from a shocking cerebral hematoma that simply took his life without warning. Bruce Lee has passed into legend; a star, a philosopher, a martial artist, a teacher. Would Enter The Dragon have become the film it did had Bruce Lee not passed away before its release? We’ll never know. But my point in bringing up Lee’s death at this time is simply to state that Enter The Dragon is a damn fun film and while it isn’t as distilled of a vision as The Way Of The Dragon was, this is the only time we get to see a Bruce Lee film with a pretty sizeable budget, in English, loaded with western stars and slick James Bond-like production value. (@Ed_Travis)
-Read Ed’s full breakdown of the Bruce Lee boxset from Criterion HERE.
Next week’s pick:
https://play.hbomax.com/feature/urn:hbo:feature:GXjS6Hg8UKo7CZgEAAAXd
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RADIOACTIVE Remains Stable
Marjane Satrapi’s biopic of Madame Curie doesn’t stray far from formula
Since their infamous discovery, Marie and Pierre Curie have retained their place in science history while inspiring a movie or two. Radioactive is the latest effort, loosely based off of Lauren Redniss’ graphic biography of the same name. As in Redniss’ book, the new film — now streaming on Amazon Prime — follows the Curies through marriage, experimentation, discovery, and awards, while also hitting upon the ramifications of their work.
Rosamund Pike stars as Polish scientist Maria Skłodowska, who moves to France for her scientific studies and later marries fellow scientist Pierre Curie (Sam Riley, Maleficent, Pride and Prejudice and Zombies). She’s forthright in her demands for a laboratory and requests for better treatment. She’s reluctant to let her husband take full credit for the discoveries they made together. Pike doesn’t shy from playing such a complex character. Her performance is the strength of the film; it’s the construction and composition of the work where the flaws are far more visible.
Director Marjane Satrapi (Persopolis, Chicken with Plums) uses flashbacks within flashbacks (a confusing decision), frantic camerawork, and lighting that tends towards blurriness. While the inserts with 20th Century scenes involving radiation treatments, nuclear bombs and the breakdown of nuclear plants should add dimension to the overall work, they instead make Curie’s own story in Radioactive less cohesive and coherent. Anya Taylor-Joy is cast as Curie’s daughter, an illustrious scientist in her own right, but is barely given much to do except convince her mother to help French soldiers in WWI.
It’s unfortunate that the film falters so after a strong start, but eventually Radioactive loses its initial luster and becomes more formulaic in its storytelling style. Even with its inventive tendencies, the film turns out to be a typical biopic. And regardless of how well Pike takes on the character of Madame Curie or how invested the viewer is in her discovery and scientific work, I ended up wishing I had just read Redniss’ book again.
Radioactive is streaming on Amazon Prime.
Get it at Amazon: https://amzn.to/3hPFjmN
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Interview: How GAME OF DEATH REDUX Producer Alan Canvan Resurrected Bruce Lee’s Lost Footage
GAME OF DEATH REDUX can be found on Criterion’s “Bruce Lee: His Greatest Hits” box set
Perhaps the most exciting piece of supplemental material on Criterion’s box set Bruce Lee: His Greatest Hits is Game Of Death Redux. Infamously, Bruce Lee passed away before completing what was to be his second feature film as a director: Game Of Death. Having shot some 100 minutes of footage, only about 11 minutes of that footage ultimately made it into the (kind of awful) Game Of Death theatrical release directed by Robert Clouse and released in 1978. That film attempts to retrofit a screenplay that ultimately leads to a sequence near the end where we get to see the transcendent Bruce Lee fight a couple of masters in a pagoda. With the yellow tracksuit and the eternal dynamism of Bruce Lee, Game Of Death briefly alights from a dismal affair to an action film brimming with vitality.
But Game Of Death (1978) really isn’t about Bruce Lee’s vision. Game Of Death Redux clocks in at just under 40 minutes and simply does its best to use the footage we have to tell the story Bruce Lee was trying to tell. It’s vibrant, intriguing, and beguiling. It’s special. It gives us a little glimpse of what might have been. It’s got an element of magic in showing us something we’ve never gotten to really see before, and an element of melancholy that reminds us we’ll never see any other new work from Bruce Lee again.
I’m thrilled to get the chance to pick producer/editor/mastermind-of-this-project Alan Canvan’s brain about how this project came to be and what his vision for the project ultimately was.
Ed Travis: Alan, can you talk a little bit about the footage itself? It’s well known that Bruce Lee shot a bunch of footage, shut down production to make Enter The Dragon, and intended to pick back up on the other side. What’s the brief story of the life of this footage from the time of Lee’s death until you got your hands on it?
Alan Canvan: Game of Death was intended to be Bruce’s directorial sophomore effort. He did some principle shooting between August — October of 1972 and then put things on hold to film Enter the Dragon for Warner Bros, with plans to resume filming the following year. Tragically, Bruce passed away in the Summer of 1973 before resuming work on the project, leaving behind approximately 97 minutes worth of fight footage, 2/3rds of which were outtakes.
Four years later, his business partner Raymond Chow hired the director of Enter the Dragon, Robert Clouse, to build a story around the footage, resulting in a 1978 film entitled Game of Death, that bore no resemblance to Lee’s original premise. Only 12 minutes and 18 seconds of Bruce’s actual footage were used in this production. Jumping ahead a few years to the late ’90s, the full footage was rediscovered in the Golden Harvest vaults, and the film was re-edited to incorporate the additional 27 minutes and 42 seconds that were missing from the 1978 film. It was then repackaged as the centerpiece of 2 documentaries: Bruce Lee: A Warrior’s Journey and its Japanese counterpart, Bruce Lee in G.O.D. (released in 2000 and 2001 respectively).
While I was initially thrilled to finally see the full footage, I wasn’t quite as jazzed by the presentation. Artistically, I disagreed with almost all the creative choices made in both productions. Much of what I thought was missing stemmed from the filmmakers’ need to incorporate every last drop of footage possible, which, while understandable in terms of fan service, is highly problematic for the overall structure and pacing of a film — and specifically for a narrative defined by its kinetic expression of a psychological landscape. Additionally, I didn’t feel either soundtrack delivered the most effective portrayal of the story. For the record, I sincerely appreciate both men’s efforts — believe me, it is no easy task.
Seventeen years later, in 2018, I attempted to convey the deeper story/subtext that I felt existed within the material.
Ed Travis: Can you talk about how you got involved in creating this project? Were you simply a fan who committed a ton of time to a passion project or were you commissioned? And as a follow up to that question, can you discuss how your completed project made its way to this incredible home on the Criterion Collection’s remarkable box set?
Alan Canvan: Criterion didn’t hire me to do the edit, it was independently financed and, indeed, a passion project that had been gestating in me for quite a while. I have a background in film and am a lifelong fan of both Bruce Lee and cinema, so this project was a natural evolution of my interests/obsessions.
My friend Matthew Polly, author of the stellar biography Bruce Lee: A Life, introduced me to Curtis Tsui, the Criterion producer responsible for the Bruce Lee box set. Curtis had learned about my edit (which had premiered in July 2019 at the Asian American Institute in New York City) and was interested in viewing it. Upon seeing Redux, Curtis immediately contacted me and asked if Criterion could include it as an extra feature on the box set. I was overwhelmed by his enthusiasm and praise for the film, and incredibly flattered that he deemed it worthy of Criterion.
I have Matthew to thank for the introduction to Curtis, and I have Curtis and Criterion to thank for recognizing my work on its own merit and showcasing it on such an honorable platform. It’s a dream come true.
Ed Travis: A personal question. Here you are, a lifelong fan of Bruce Lee’s, getting to make a passion project and see it to completion and have a chance for audiences around the world to see the fruit of your labor. I’d love to hear how you’ve felt about this opportunity both personally and professionally.
Alan Canvan: There is definitely a sense of things coming full circle. Game of Death has always been significant to me because it was my very first cinematic glimpse of Bruce Lee. I was 8 years old and absolutely in awe. Despite the ’78 film’s shortcomings, it worked for three reasons: the opening credit sequence (that swiped Lee’s fight with Chuck Norris from Way of the Dragon), the 11-minute finale that used Lee’s 1972 Game of Death footage and John Barry’s amazing soundtrack. Barry’s score, in my mind, is such an integral piece of the Game of Death jigsaw. With Redux, my aim was to honor both Bruce Lee’s unparalleled genius as well as John Barry’s phenomenal talent.
Regarding Bruce’s vision, it’s apparent that the pagoda segment was truly the story he was interested in telling. With that in mind, I chose to approach the sequence as its own short film with three distinct acts. The narrative itself was much more than just a Jeet Kune Do tutorial that stressed the importance of adaptability in combat. The deeper interpretation recognizes the pagoda motif as a metaphor for the psyche and the ascension of the temple as an allegory for the struggles that exist within the human condition, told through classical Jungian archetypes. For me, it was important to highlight these aspects, and give the fight scenes a psychological context.
To share my rendition of a film that I watched repeatedly as a child (on VHS tapes!) almost 40 years later is a huge milestone, and equally surreal. On a professional note, it was an amazing opportunity and, hopefully, a stepping stone to future projects that will find their place in the world.
I really appreciate Alan taking the time to dialog with me about his experience in creating Game Of Death Redux. And I believe fans of Bruce Lee the world over will feel that watching this cut of the Game Of Death footage is a unique privilege afforded to them through Alan’s passionate and informed work and Criterion’s presentation. Learn more about Game Of Death Redux in the below video, and don’t miss Bruce Lee: His Greatest Hits on Blu-ray from The Criterion Collection.
And I’m Out.
Part 1 covers the first two discs in this box set: The Big Boss & Fist Of Fury
Part 2 covers the second two discs in this box set: The Way of the Dragon & Enter The Dragon
Part 3 covers the final discs in this box set: Game Of Death & Supplemental Material
