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Rating: During the same period when Bruce Lee was causing a stir, terrifying the globe with his scream, kung-fu-mania boasted another title that helped popularize the genre in the West (including Italy): "Five Fingers of Death". In the entirely "Tarantino-esque" reevaluation of certain films considered B-movies, this film also received ample consideration. For his "Kill Bill," the American director drew heavily from it, especially regarding the surreal ferocity of the fights, the sound, and the references to the music, mostly a series of orchestral "fanfare" that are as emphatic as they are crude (even today, one can trace these references in any parodic and stereotypical representation of martial arts films produced in Japan and China).
The story tells of the rivalry between two kung-fu schools, one led by the upright Master Shen Chin-Pei, and the other headed by a ruthless mobster. The young Chao-Chi-Chao is a student of the former. During the audition, the young Chi-Chao is inexplicably humiliated by the lead student, essentially a nobody, thereby becoming a sort of laughingstock at the school. However, in a short time, the boy reveals surprising abilities, defeating, to everyone's astonishment, the formidable Chen Lang, a solitary fighter from the rival school capable of putting you in a coma for two months with a single headbutt, prompting the master to reveal to him the secret of the extremely dangerous "Iron Fist" technique, with which he will avenge all the misdeeds of his opponents, effortlessly eliminating the ruthless samurai killer Okada as well.
Despite a not-so-great Italian dubbing, expressive and passionate at times like train delay announcements, the film retains its charm in describing the customs, habits, and values of a world that, especially at the time, was light years away from ours. It is also interesting for the characterization of the characters, who are not simply relegated to the role of choreographed extras but endowed with at least minimal psychological depth, noticeable between one fight and another.
Even the violence depicted, which 40 years ago might have momentarily disturbed viewers witnessing such anatomical violations (eyes gouged out, various slashes, and decapitations), today might serve almost exclusively hedonistic purposes: that same viewer would watch with a satisfied expression, perhaps reminiscing about the time when, just a bit more than a teenager, he enjoyed those old-fashioned fights; a spectacle belonging to a period not yet marked by the Manichean opposition between the "good" Seagal and Van Damme and the "bad" Asians that made the fortune of Hollywood genre productions.
For once, it's worth siding with Made In China.
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