REVIEW: ‘Fist of Fury’ (1972)

More than any other effort before or since FIST OF FURY (aka THE CHINESE CONNECTION), Bruce Lee magnificently earned his status as the greatest Chinese martial arts celebrity and certainly one of the most captivating film stars in history.

Genre fans know the story well. Bruce Lee plays Chen Jun, a fictional student of real life martial arts hero Huo Yuanjia (aka Fok Yuen-gap) who was apparently poisoned by Japanese in Shanghai during the 1930’s. From here on the film breaks from history by following the exploits of Chen as he seeks to prove the worth of Chinese in an area controlled by foreign powers.

Members of a Japanese martial arts school insult Chen and his brethren at the Jing Wu school, which only gives him an excuse to take out his frustrations on the Japanese. He eventually learns that his teacher’s death was actually the result of poisoning that was ordered by the head of the Japanese school. The stakes get higher as Chen kills the conspirators in a cold rage and becomes a fugitive from law. After learning that the Japanese have nefarious plans for the Jing Wu school, Chen attacks the Japanese, killing their leaders. Yet his actions come too late when he returns to discover that most of his colleagues have been killed. With no one left to focus his anger on, Chen turns himself in to Chinese authorities before staging a triumphant final show of defiance.

It’s amazing to truly consider the incredible influence this film has had on the Hong Kong film industry. Although Lee was already a star after his turn in THE BIG BOSS (1971), its tremendous success afforded him the opportunity to have much greater control over his next film with Golden Harvest. For this reason alone, FIST OF FURY stands as the single most important work in martial arts film history.

Credit for direction goes to Lo Wei who was a competent filmmaker, but was somewhat set in his ways while the film’s official fight choreographer, Han Ying-chieh also came from the old school of action filmmaking.

On the other hand, Lee had worked in Hollywood, watched many Japanese chambara films and embraced all things new and daring. What happened when these two styles merged is both profound and disappointing.

On the positive side, much of the film from set design to costumes and music as well as fight choreography and acting managed to combine the best of both worlds. With twice the budget of Lee’s previous film, Golden Harvest went all out to recreate lavish indoor and outdoor sets meant to replicate the look of Shanghai in the 1930s. Some of the sets are obviously reused as new locations while a few real outdoor shots lack the same level of detail, yet it’s a minor gripe.

The score is outstanding throughout the entire film. It manages to evoke Lee’s emotional state in musical form, thus providing a perfect compliment.

Lee was basically responsible for directing all the action scenes that he participated in. There is a clear distinction between his directing style and that of Han and Lo Wei. For instance, Lee’s greatest moment takes place in a Japanese dojo, surrounded by angry assailants as he proceeds to kick nine of them without a pause or edit. The shot is seen overhead from a dynamic angle rarely if ever used in Hong Kong films from this period. Other scenes shared similar traits. Yet, it was often Lee’s movements or facial spasms that provide the most dynamic form of expression.

Lee’s style of fighting is hard, rough around the edges and more realistic in application. All of the action where Lee is involved is deliberate, but also infused with a sense of raw energy that cannot be matched by any prior physical performance in film. Lee’s intense acting is tied closely with the action. It’s purposely accentuated and remains constant throughout. So although he may appear to be laying it on a bit thick, the grimacing and shouts work.

There is a moment when we get to see Lee performing in a more light-hearted manner when he dons a phone repairman’s disguise to sneak into the Japanese school and act the fool. Sadly, this hints at a depth to his acting abilities that was never fully mined before his untimely death in 1973.

Some of the older film conventions act as a detractor. Some unnecessary uses of wires and attempts to mimic other films of the era result in less than stellar examples of superhuman abilities such as when Lee lifts a rickshaw or when he conveniently positions his victim to be impaled by a sword that’s falling to the ground. It’s fun stuff that works in any Chang Cheh or Jimmy Wang Yu film, but is out of place here.

There is also a lot of static dialogue between action scenes that deflates some of the momentum. Nora Miao exhibits little emotion in her role as Lee’s love interest and even their one intimate moment seems artificial. The rest of the cast does well with fine performances from genre star, James Tien and especially from the director himself, Lo Wei who plays a Chinese detective caught between the interests of his people and the responsibilities of his job.

Even with its minor faults, FIST OF FURY is absolutely amazing, a peerless classic that deserves its due respect for revolutionizing the martial arts movie. Bruce gives the film not only an incredibly visceral lead performance, but also raised the bar on choreography, camerawork and editing. In the end it really all comes back to Bruce Lee himself delivering an electrifying performance no one could ever adequately replicate and that means that you’ll never see another film quite like this one.