Watch greatest martial artist of all time tussle with the likes of Jackie Chan, Chuck Norris and Sammo Hung
If anyone could be said to have roared across the screen, it was Bruce Lee.
That power heaving in his torso. The speed in vicious delivery. A martial skill so disconcerting it was impossible to imitate.
His
greatest work is arguably that in Enter The Dragon, the first kung fu
movie to be produced by a Hollywood studio. Robert Clouse’s film not
only catapulted the genre onto Western screens, but ushered in a new
dawn: the acceptance of non-whites as lead heroes in mainstream American
cinema.
And what a phenomenon Lee proved to be.
To mark the
40th anniversary of the star's passing, we reveal some key facts that
lie, in wait, behind the legend that was Bruce Lee.
HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON
Bruce Lee was known to his public as The Dragon, for his
formidable presence and sleek ferocity. Forever ready to take on a
challenge from fighters and warriors, he blazed his career through
television (The Green Hornet) and bit parts in Hong Kong movies, before
spreading his wings into top-billed, durable star.
Lee’s
metamorphosis into the nickname during two of his most iconic films (Way
Of The Dragon, Enter The Dragon), was an elegant escalation of destiny:
according to the Chinese zodiac, Lee Jun-fan was born in both the Year
and Hour Of The Dragon (1940 and between 06:00 and 08:00 respectively).
A bold omen for one who would become so mythic.
A SHEEP IN WOLF’S CLOTHING
Lee’s family never called him Bruce.
To
them he was Sai-Fon, or ‘Little Phoenix’, a distinctly feminine name in
Cantonese, because his superstitious mother believed that boys had been
cursed by evil spirits after her first-born son died in infancy.
It
is thought that he was christened ‘Bruce’ by a nurse at the San
Francisco hospital where he was delivered, when his father was Stateside
with an acting troupe. By having a Western name, it would help to avoid
ambiguity over his birth certificate.
Despite being the epitome
of ripped masculinity and the most-recognised Oriental screen icon, the
effeminately-titled Little Phoenix was born American and never held any
other citizenship.
FASTER THAN THE SPEED OF LIGHT
Cinema is usually
filmed and projected at 24 fps (frames per second). However, so
lightning-quick and kinetic were Lee’s movements, that, when shot
conventionally, they either looked deliberately sped up for vaudeville
effect or just swooped past in a blur of prowess.
So the
technology had to be manipulated accordingly: fight sequences were shot
at 32 fps adding more exposure to the energy. When played back at normal
speed, the violent choreography was still breathtakingly rapid, but the
human eye could now keep up.
Lee was not only a pioneer of action cinema, he forced the medium to adapt to his agility.
THE ENTERTAINER
No
amount of increased shutter speed could capture the dynamic of some of
Lee’s most consummate tricks. One involved him throwing a handful of
rice in the air and catching the grains as they cascaded down. Not with
scooped limbs or an open mouth, or spoon even. Individually. With a pair
of chopsticks.
But perhaps his most well-aired one was a version
of the kindly uncle’s favourite party trick to make currency disappear.
Bruce would invite his subject to hold a coin in their palm and simply
close the hand. Swoosh! Lee would swipe it before the action could be
completed. If he was feeling playful, he’d even swap it out for another.
If only The Dragon were alive today to take from the bankers…
THROWN PUNCHES
As born showman who was never shy about his talents, Lee had
another trick up his muscle-bound sleeve. One that did not rely on speed
but might.
Sheer heart-stopping force.
It was known as the
‘One-inch Punch’. The martial arts master would stand with calm poise
before his victim. Clenched mitt the length of a knuckle from the doomed
chest. A pause before the strike. And then…
The slightest of movement begets a storm, Lee’s mere jab rupturing its intended into stunned collapse.
Fist Of Fury, indeed.
ACCIDENT PRONE
Whilst filming Enter The Dragon, Lee suffered a number of
nasty injuries. The poisonous snake that guarded the secret entrance to
the villain’s laboratory decided to take offence at his reptilian
brother’s attempt to get past, biting the Dragon on his hand.
Fortunately, the serpent’s venom gland had been removed.
But that was a rare instance of ‘elf and safety being observed on set.
Not
so when American karate champion Bob Wall mistimed the lunge of a
broken bottle made of real glass, cutting Lee’s hand severely.
Rumour has it that the two martial artists developed a rivalry during production, although Wall insists they were great friends.
Either
way, following this incident, Bruce ploughed into Bob with a
choreographed flying kick. Despite knowing that it was coming, the
fighter was knocked back with such force that he broke the arms of the
extra that inadvertently cushioned his fall.
STREET-FIGHTING MAN
The teenage Lee regularly got into brawls and was even
expelled for disruptive behaviour from one of the secondary schools he
attended.
By the time of Enter The Dragon, he was the world’s
greatest pugilist, second only, perhaps, to Muhammed Ali (who Lee
admitted might be his supreme challenge).
Many of the extras on
Clouse’s movie were experienced martial artists and keen to have a pop
at the master to take the title. One such aspirant taunted Lee and,
during filming, tapped his foot to tempt engagement.
While he was
strong and nimble, the Dragon methodically applied signature style,
dancing around his opponent until nailing him, plunging his knee into
the provocateur’s chest before repeatedly thrusting him in the face.
Ever the philosopher, Lee did not fire the bruised extra as a result, but gave him tips for improvement.
WHO WOULD WIN IN A FIGHT?
Lee squared up to a few of the titans of action cinema on screen, some future, others established.
The
opening joust of Enter The Dragon, between the hero and a surly Shaolin
student, ends with a bone-crunching body drop. Who was on the receiving
end?
It was pudgy Hong Kong legend Sammo Hung, director/star of
many classics of the genre (The Magnificent Butcher, Enter The Fat
Dragon) and kick-a** cop in 90s TV series Martial Law, that learnt an
early lesson.
Then there was Jackie Chan in the same film, who
gets his neck snapped by Lee. During one of the stunts, the star
accidentally smacked Chan in the chops with a fighting stick. Even if
he, typically, saw the funny side, Lee pledged work on all subsequent
movies to compensate.
Sadly, this may have been a promise that premature death annulled, but one that must have fuelled the young Chan’s ambition.
But
the supreme brawn-off is the versus with Chuck Norris in Way Of The
Dragon. Watched by a passing moggy, this is kung fu cat-and-mouse drawn
out to painfully tense conclusion.
Both artists displaying their
unique technique, Lee’s balletic speed against Norris’s strident
control, a genuine prize-fight is there to be savoured. As the proverb
goes, Chuck may have counted to infinity. Twice.
But it is ultimately Lee that knocks him out for the count.
DEATH BECOMES HIM
Lee’s
final film, Game Of Death, became just that in the insensitive hands of
the producers. Tragically passing away due to a fluid-swollen brain
during the production, reportedly caused after being administered with a
painkiller to treat a headache, the coroner ruled “death by
misadventure.” So, not to dent business and milk publicity, the script
was exploited thus.
Now, Bruce fakes his own demise to escape the mafia.
These
fictional hoods must take some convincing as footage from Lee’s funeral
is incorporated into the film. Yes, those pallid close-ups of that
once-potent face in the open casket are actually embalmed flesh.
Misadventure if ever there was.
No wonder the legend of the Dragon, Bruce Lee, haunts us still.
