A Legacy of Rage: The Films of Brandon Lee

[part of a greater seres, "The Unexpendables: The Last Action Heroes and their Legacies."]

Following in the footsteps of his father is the only way this discussion could begin. It’s the only way any discussion could, as Lee, son of celebrated martial artist Bruce Lee, was funneled—locked to the legacy of his father. The world’s greatest, after all, forever enshrined by his mysterious, premature death in 1973, there would be no end to the expectations, the comparisons, and the air of nostalgia linked between the two. Even in death—Brandon passed away on March 31st, 1993 under similarly-enigmatic circumstances—the legacy held true. Like his father, the seemingly amiable Lee came to Hollywood with a chip on his shoulder, with something to prove… And he left with a cinematic legacy that transcended life itself.

Like his father, Brandon's ticket into Hollywood turned out to be television. While Bruce travailed alongside The Green Hornet, Brandon landed a role in the TV-movie adaptation of Kung Fu, the popular, '70s serial headlined by David Carradine. Both famous and infamous for its explicit cornball spirit, Brandon brought (finally) some martial arts credibility to the series, even if limited, and gave the otherwise listless vehicle a visceral spark. He was essentially playing a villain, a sidekick (like his father) to the evil Manchu (Mako), but as with Bruce, Brandon overshadowed and ultimately commandeered the spotlight... You could already see the seeds; that fire that Brandon brought to the screen. Kung Fu: The Movie may have been a dud, but Brandon wasn't. He was just getting started.

But Carradine was only the first vet to train him in (Carradine also paired with Sly Stallone and Chuck Norris). Bolo Yeung (who would go on to induct Van Damme two years later) had a hand in Brandon's first theatrical release, Legacy of Rage, a '80s Hong Kong actioner directed by Ronny Yu and co-starring Michael Wong. Competing with the up-and-coming John Woo's, Tsui Hark's, and Ringo Lam's, not to mention Jackie Chan's kinetic Police Story series, Legacy of Rage felt more like standard fare, but was a solid effort nonetheless. Brandon Ma (Lee), a simple waiter, is framed for murder by none other than his best friend (Wong), severing the relationship with his fiancé and ultimately sending him to prison for eight full years. Revenge is in order, of course, cumulating in an epic, shoot 'em up finale on the baddie's estate. But it is earlier when the most interesting scenes take place. Brandon is slapped and mocked by a smalltime gangster (Yeung) at the restaurant where he works. After a drink is thrown in his face, he unexpectedly strikes back—a daring move on many levels. They take it outside, and Bolo, posturing, threatens to knock him out in three seconds (which, given Bolo, is quite believable). A SMACK, WHACK, and a WHAM later, and Brandon snap-points to the next oncoming thug, "How many seconds do you want?" To put it simply, it's an introduction worthy of his father, setting a tone few action heroes can. While the persona echoed Bruce's, it was markedly different; there was a younger intensity to him—still restrained—more harnessed anger than martial arts wisdom. The film, 30% martial arts, 70% gunplay, maybe wasn't the best showcase for the son of Bruce Lee, but it was a start. And, as we will see, the balance may have hindered him in his venture to the Hollywood action scene.

Brandon's next film, Laser Mission, was a lowly, very-B espionage-actioner featuring Ernest Borgnine in a small role. More than a joke, Mission is the stuff of K-Mart bargain bins and action four-packs, and is only made available due to the legacy of Lee himself. That said, it's worth a laugh. "Ha-ha, they're going to cut off your head, mañana," has made the rounds amongst lovers of bad movies everywhere, as has the nonsensical action and a slow car chase, and hopefully, it will continue to. Snowballing, badness led to more badness but on a bigger scale, with Mark L. Lester's Showdown in Little Tokyo (not to be confused with Big Trouble in Little China). Continuing in the collaborative spirit, Dolph Lundgren took Lee under his arm for the buddy-cop vehicle set in Los Angeles, involving a local wave of incoming Yakuza. Both young in their careers, Lundgren and Lee's chemistry wasn't always on, but the martial arts combo more than made up for it: the brute force of Lundgren teamed with the scrappy Lee made for some genuinely inventive sequences, especially in an early scene where they take on some henchmen at a club. Clocking in at 77 minutes, it's actually a lot of fun, rounded out with a great action cast in Cary-Hiroyuki Tagawa, Tia Carrere, and Philip Tan. But the son of Bruce Lee would only be a sidekick so long. With Rapid Fire, Brandon got his first legitimate release (and first true lead since Legacy of Rage), as well as the martial arts showcase we'd all been waiting for.

In Rapid Fire, Brandon plays Jake Lo (Bruce played "Billy Lo" in Game of Death), the son of a famous Chinese activist (go figure) studying abroad in Los Angeles. With his reputation, political groups on campus pressure him to join the cause, but as with Rage, he's just a normal kid and wants nothing of his father's legacy. Tricked into appearing at a fundraiser, the mix-up soon leads to a more perilous one: gangsters on the scene, talking drugs in a dark office with a shotgun. Jake witnesses a murder—the gangsters witnessing him—spiraling in a brutal cat-and-mouse chase jet-setting to Chicago. Truthfully, it all gets a bit silly, but with action sequence after action sequence after action sequence, Rapid Fire lives up to its otherwise senseless name. Director Dwight H. Little (Mark L. Lester's eternal rival) proves competent in giving Lee a proper vehicle... the weak film is bolstered by the strength of its action and martial arts. Lee plows through baddies with unremitting endurance; primal and boyish, he keeps Legacy's mean streak alive and doesn't let up. And, working with a recognizable cast, Lee holds his own with fine-tuned charisma—a characteristic that would be maximized in The Crow. Mr. "Unarmed and Extremely Dangerous" had finally made a name for himself... a name that would become iconic all too soon.

With an obscure comic-book source at their disposal, a first-time Hollywood director, two lowly screenwriters, and the son of Bruce Lee came together for a movie, and the result was, of course, The Crow. Hitting the zeitgeist of the early '90s, the dark, comic-book blockbuster—the first real successor to Tim Burton's Batman—came into being with an aura of death; Brandon Lee was killed in an on-set accident involving a weapon malfunction, for lack of a better phrase. Premature and every way unfortunate, all eyes turned to The Crow. With blessings from Lee's family, the already troubled production forged ahead, and it was released wide on May 11th, 1994. This was the stage that Lee had yearned for, that he had earned—not just for martial arts, but one for legitimate performance. And a performance he gave. From the pre-transformation rock star, to the gnarly manifestation itself, Lee was on fire—that electric allure young stars possess at that one special point in their career—the material matching his energy. A story of vengeance, we follow Eric Draven (Lee) as he loses his love and his life and then resurrects, hunting down each and every one involved and without mercy. More avenger than superhero, Draven prowls the night streets, without the public trust of a Batman, or the noble cause of Blade. A fitting icon for Detroit Rock City, he is the darkest of dark knights, but perhaps with more humanity. Death is everywhere in The Crow: Poe, German expressionism , those soulless, wisecracking, fashionable villains straight outta the '90s, thugs quoting Milton for Christ sake... you could almost say the film is a brief resurrection of Lee himself, a last-gasp look into a wealth of artistic talent. But there is also plenty of life in Draven's relationships with a young goth teenager (Rochelle Davis), a common patrolman (Ernie Hudson), and, of course, his love and partner, Shelly (Sofia Shinas). Most of all, it's Lee himself, simply—a shining star in the dark night. Brandon Lee's swan song both helped him break away from the legacy of his father, and join the ranks. His father would've been proud.

In the end, Brandon Lee's is a legacy cut short. Like his father, the potential was heaped high—more than any given action or kung-fu star of the time. More importantly, at age 27, he was a young man coming into himself, his marriage, his ideology, his career... Whenever I think of either father or son, I then think of their wife and mother, Linda Lee, who, quite sincerely, must be the saddest women in the world. Not to mention Brandon's to-be wife, Eliza Hutton...I simply can't imagine. To close, I leave you with a quote from Paul Bowles's The Sheltering Sky, which Lee had planned to include in his wedding invitations and ultimately became his epitaph:

"Because we do not know when we will die, we get to think of life as an inexhaustible well. And yet everything happens only a certain number of times, and a very small number really. How many more times will you remember a certain afternoon of your childhood, an afternoon that is so deeply a part of your being that you cannot conceive of your life without it? Perhaps four, or five times more? Perhaps not even that. How many more times will you watch the full moon rise? Perhaps twenty. And yet it all seems limitless..."

~ Patrick D. Fryberger

Van Damaged: The Films of Jean-Claude Van Damme

[part of a greater series, "The Unexpendables: The Last Action Heroes and their Legacies"]

Jean-Claude Van Damme, the aptly-nicknamed “muscles from Brussels” started out as anything but. A scrawny kid with something to prove, Jean-Claude took that mentality with him throughout his career, giving way to what has been termed his “vulnerability” as an action star. This all accumulated in 2008 with the release of J.C.V.D., a soulful, bare-all look into the actor-martial artist’s troubled life. The film not only marked a keystone in Van Damme’s career, but in the action world as a whole; for once, an ‘action hero’ was shown the capacity of respect…and a stage on which to earn it. But the seeds went back much further than that. The damaged and sometimes damaging legacy of Jean-Claude Van Damme will be discussed at length here, as will his influence on the genre.

Van Damme's early roles are about as eclectic as it gets. He had a bit part in a breakdancing movie. He worked as Chuck Norris's stunt double. He was billed, quite literally, as "Gay Karate Man" in Monaco Forever...not to mention as an extra in an ultraviolent French film. There was squaring off against Shô Kosugi, headlining an Albert Pyun film (originally conceived as a black and white, silent opera, mind you), and, of course, his infamous falling out on the set of Predator. Throw in a book-end part as a Russian villain (a rite of passage for any Euro action star), and Jean-Claude had seen his share. Like they say, it's a long way to the top if you want to kick ass. But kick ass he did with the arrival of Bloodsport, Newt Arnold's martial arts throwback based on the supposed misadventures of real-life martial artist Frank Dux. Combining the simple, Enter the Dragon tournament format with a great heavy (both literally and figuratively) in Bolo Yeung, the film soon became a hit and introduced a fresh-faced Van Damme to the world. Its formulaic elements were overshadowed by the strong martial arts showcase from Van Damme, Bolo, and co., and looking back, the smalltime '80s actioner could even be seen as respectable. It was a great start, and with the '90s, newly-enshrined "international" action hero Jean-Claude Van Damme hit the road running.

As he progressed, there were the projects that Jean-Claude put his heart in (Kickboxer, Lionheart, Double Impact), and the ones where it was noticeably absent (Death Warrant, Universal Soldier, Nowhere to Run). That said, it was the peak of his career, and quality entertainment was abound. Whether in the raw emotion of the again-formulaic but fun Kickboxer, or the balls to the wall Death Warrant with its iconic, boiler room end showdown, this was Van Damage at its best. Perhaps, his finest hour was in Lionheart, which preserved the Van Damme formula (most notably: black sidekick/big heavy/beaten to a pulp only to persevere) but brought a wholehearted, genuine set of emotions and with it an authenticity to the stakes making an action movie so much more. A deserter, pimped out, turned away by his very family, literally fights his way out of the hole he's in, ending up with nothing more than the love of his family and friends. Knowing or not, obviously, there was some representation going on here, as well as acute foreshadowing of a certain role that would come some twenty years later.

But who was going to Van Damme movies for emotions? There was Universal Soldier—essentially a poor man's Terminator 2—which featured the now-LEGENDARY pairing of Van Damme and Dolph Lundgren (more on that later). There was Nowhere to Run, the best cast Van Damme film, and probably the best shot as well although with the first of Van Damme's sleepwalk performances. And, at the very peak, there was the Peter Hyams double bill of Timecop and Sudden Death: one, the most critically reputable of Van Damme's career, the other, one of the most laughable. Another Die Hard ripoff (Die Hard at the Stanley Cup Finals), we move from a fight with a mascot to hotwiring a stadium to the man playing goalie himself... All played straight. It's a hoot and a half.

But nothing was as significant as Van Damme's 'Chinese connection'. Somewhere between Quentin Tarantino, The Killer, and Van Damme himself, people began to take notice of Hong Kong director John Woo. This all came to a boil when Van Damme beckoned him to Hollywood—a since-controversial move that, in my eyes, both supercharged the director's talent, and subsequently quashed it for the next fifteen or so years. The brief firework was, of course, Hard Target, a modern refashioning of The Most Dangerous Game and, simply put, one of the greatest action movies of our time. The film featured a new, mullet-and-stubble version of Van Damme, playing "born on the bayou" homeless veteran Chance Boudreaux in down and out New Orleans. Meaner, macho, more zero than hero, Van Damme was on an uneasy autopilot with Woo unleashing him like a trained wolverine. The fusion of Woo's gunplay and Van Damme's raw power was like nothing seen before; two arsenals coming together in a slow-mo, rollicking cataclysm—the mid-movie chase through the city remains one of the best. And with a cast rounded out by Lance Henriksen, Arnold Vosloo, Wilford Brimley, and a young Yancy Butler, Hard Target remains the action highlight of Van Damme's career. Since then, Van Damme's 'marrying in' of Asian directors such as Tsui Hark and Ringo Lam has become somewhat of a punchline, and it is on that note that we will segue into the dark ages—the dreaded descent into direct-to-DVD—of J.C.V.D.'s career.

With the advent of video-game adaptations, Van Damme was being courted for two, high-profile arcade classics. Street Fighter and Mortal Kombat continued their rivalry on the big screen, and, as a result, left a trail of tears in their wake. For whatever reason, Street Fighter got the brunter end of the stick, and Van Damme with it. The film's reputation has snowballed in recent years; it's actually not that bad, and goes more or less toe for toe with Kombat. The finale is particularly enjoyable—a 45 minute action sequence of melodramatic showdowns and cornball speeches ("I'm gonna get on my boat"). Either way, the stage was set, and the lights were dim. Like Seagal, Van Damme put the nail in the coffin with his transition to directing. The Quest—a second and final collaboration with Frank Dux—was a listless Bloodsport retread that even made Sir Roger Moore uninteresting. Jean-Claude's rampant alcoholism and revolving door of marriages weren't helping, either. Trying to rebound, Van Damme imported the talented Ringo Lam from Hong Kong, with whom he made three films. The first, Maximum Risk, was a solid, watchable thriller—but not much else—co-starring Natasha Henstridge. Next up, Tsui Hark, and the frenetic, bubble-gum action of Double Team and Knock Off, matched only in their flamboyance by the Charlie's Angels movies. When an admirable, more personal project (Legionnaire) with big producers involved never made it to theaters, the darkest hours set in. The belated Universal Soldier sequel and a blasphemous Yojimbo remake damned Jean-Claude to the DTD realm, going right along with his third-gen contemporaries Steven Seagal, Wesley Snipes, and Dolph Lundgren. Personal problems continued to spiral and by the time of the new millennium, Jean-Claude had hit an all-time low.

Yet, in 2001, it was Ringo to the rescue, reteaming with Van Damme for Replicant and In Hell, two of his best performances and all-around films. In the former, Jean-Claude played his third (of four) double-role—a serial killer and a clone designed to think like him... Spotty sci-fi, yes, but spotty sci-fi done well, proving that Lam would not suffer the fate of Woo and Hark and that Van Damme was more than just a beefcake. In fact, it was the first real performance that Van Damme had given; there's a tragic essence to the brothers... the aforementioned "vulnerability" of Van Damme as a hero. He's not a hero here; in both cases, he's a child never given the chance. It's a legitimate film, overlooked primarily for its derivative title, the Van Damme brand, and DTD status. Such is the case also with In Hell, the prison movie/fighting tourney mix popularized by the Undisputed series. Far grittier than anything in the genre, In Hell lives up to its name, feeling like the end-all for prison movies everywhere. A French-American working in Russia (how's that for cross-cultural? Van Damme's ethnicity has always led to interesting setups) avenges his wife's death and is sent to a most brutal prison, where, again, Van Damme is forced to fight. But these are not the back alleys, parking garages, and upper-end estates of Lionheart. This is prison, and prison in Russia at that. Through fighting, torture, and isolation, Kyle (Van Damme) is transformed into a near-animal, a monster, ravaging others past the point of survival—consumed entirely by fear. The vulnerability-raw power dichotomy is on full display here, as Kyle then fights to rebirth his humanity under the worst of worst circumstances. It's not exactly Death Warrant, and it features a surprisingly-strong supporting turn from former NFL-star Lawrence Taylor. If anything, what I hope J.C.V.D. and Universal Soldier: Regeneration can do is shine a light on these great collaborations between Van Damme and Lam, and even more so, inspire the two to work together again.

The Order was light fun—Jean-Claude actually seemed to be having a good time—with an expected cameo from the legendary Charlton Heston. Derailed, well, was exactly as it sounds—an Under Siege ripoff of a Die Hard ripoff edited with utter disregard and incompetence... Without Lam, it seemed Van Damme was meandering, and with Lam's abrupt backing out of Wake of Death, things were set back even further. Second in Command and The Hard Corps brought more sleepwalking, listless action (save a great moment where Jean-Claude readily admits, "That fuckin' hurt."). The Hard to Kill-Bad Lieutenant hybrid Until Death gave Van Damme another chance to flex his acting chops, but in another lowly vehicle. The Shepherd: Border Patrol finally introduced legitimate hope with its great showdown between Van Damme and the up-and-coming Scott Adkins—a fan of the man himself growing up. But it was not until J.C.V.D., self-titled, if you will, that true respect was warranted. The film marked Van Damme's return to the theatrical realm, even if limited, and provided him an out from the suffocating grind of DTD.

From the opening, virtuoso-action sequence, to the fanciful monologue, to its bittersweet conclusion...even from the opening Gaumont logo, you knew this was going to be something special. Jean-Claude Van Damme (playing himself) returns to his Belgian stomping grounds with his career in the tank and his family disintegrating. But instead of finding solace, he's dropped smack in the middle of a bank heist, where he's soon exploited and announced as the poster child. From there, the effective, Dog Day Afternoon-Being John Malkovich mix begins to take form with plenty of unexpected surprises along the way. The biggest one, of course, being Jean-Claude himself. The film admittedly misses some of its marks: Mabrouk El Mechri's direction falls a bit flat (he's not exactly Sidney Lumet), and the color palette stands out like a sore thumb. The pretentious title cards, a flimsy narrative, and the cast and humor surrounding Van Damme doesn't exactly ignite, either. But it's Van Damme that triumphs, going through the motions, an eroded soul, ultimately letting the real heroes do their job. The film's theme, Baby Huey's "Hard Times," feels like an anthem not only for Van Damme but for action heroes everywhere. And J.C.V.D., its flaws aside, has set the bar for this 'revival of the fittest' in the action genre. And for that, we can credit Van Damme, the "muscles from Brussels" gone full circle.

In the end, Jean-Claude Van Damme may've found solace in his career. For many, the slow, DTD death is insurmountable, but as always, Jean-Claude stuck it out, he took it like a man...striking back with one helluva kick. His recent decision to turn down Sly Stallone's The Expendables may come as a shock to some, but not to me. With Universal Soldier: Regeneration, both Van Damme and Dolph Lundgren have made another hallmark genre piece that, its DTD status withstanding, will surely garner respect in coming years—the implications of which will be discussed at another time. In other words, Van Damme's on a roll. He's doing his own thing and doing it well. It's a shame he won't be there for the party, but then again, he's the one who made it possible in the first place.

~ Patrick D. Fryberger

The Action Reaction is like a Nuclear Reactor, only not

IF YOU HAVEN'T ALREADY NOTICED, things have been slowing down here at The Action Reaction here, oh, for about a year now. I've converted to Tumblrism and now run a blog (or two) over there, letting this little thing wither away.

That said, I'm still going to try to go out with a bang, albeit a very slow, longwinded one. Earlier this year, in anticipation for The Expendables, I had started writing a series on who I consider to be the twelve biggest action heroes of the modern era. Though I've only officially completed two essays (which includes watching all one of one's filmography, mind you), I still plan to finish them all someday, and post them here. I'll be sharing the first of the pieces--on Jean-Claude Van Damme--pretty shortly here followed up with one on Brandon Lee. From there, I guess I'll be posting 'em when I got 'em, hopefully to your reading pleasure.

Though this blog may be on its way out, my love for the genre and the people who make it happen is most certainly not, and I will continue to support them in any way I can. I feel the best way I can accomplish such is to celebrate them on a stage usually reserved for the most prestigious... honest-to-God film criticism and anaylsis. My essays will offer genuine insights in the actors' careers--past, present, and future--and hopefully shine some respect on the men and women and the genre as a whole.

So, I guess that's it. Quit my putsyin' around. Without further adieu, may I present to you, THE UNEXPENDABLES: The Last Action Heroes and their Legacies:

Thank you and goodnight.

~ Patrick D. Fryberger

Quickie Review: Machete

Sloppy taco goodness (and yummy M-Rod goodness)

In a year dominated mostly by trash, it's fitting that a low-aiming, Grindhouse fake-trailer-spinoff movie may very well be the best. Wildly inconsistent but never too ambitious Robert Rodriguez provides us an ultraviolent, politically charged, actor-revival extravaganza, which carries a little weight, a little grit, and even gives Steven Seagal his transcendental, J.C.V.D. moment. As the man says, "Back the fuck up and watch." You might just enjoy yourself.

***1/2 out of ****


~ Patrick Fryberger

Quickie review: The Expendables

Looks like Van Damme got the last laugh...

Writer-director-star Stallone not only should've handed over the camera, but he should've let somebody have a go at the script, and even more important, he should've secured the rest of the gang (Van Damme, Seagal, Snipes), even if it took waiting a year or begging them on his hands and knees. The Expendables is a messy, watchable movie that could have been so much more. Cheap production value doesn't help either. You don't just throw something like this together on a whim.


** out of ****

~ Patrick Fryberger

Quickie Review: Scott Pilgrim vs. the World

Broad and self-evident video-game referencing surprisingly doesn't spoil the show

Self-assured, confident direction saves what could've been a hollow or uneven exercise. Edgar Wright's frenetic-kinetic dazzlement sparks up early and often; it's innovative and not afraid to make mistakes, making such all but disappear. Cera doesn't fall into parody, and Wright proves he can do more than just make them. Above all, is the supporting cast: Kieran Culkin, Alison Pill, and Jason Schwartzman steal the show, among others.


***1/2 out of ****

~ Patrick Fryberger

I'd play it

Gets it right

Great reactions:

See more funny videos and funny pictures at CollegeHumor.

Great yarn

The theater experience: memorable movie nights from a dozen or so critics. A great, worthwhile read. Check it out.

"Back the fuck up and watch"

A literally 'red' band trailer for Machete. No Lohan billing OR Don Johnson? LAME.



Still going to be there opening night.