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Rating: In 1985, Cimino directed "Year of the Dragon", a film about the Chinese underworld in New York's Chinatown and the exploits of an American cop of Polish origin, Stanley White (Mikey Rourke, still in decent shape) as he tries to dismantle the organization.
The plot parallels the investigations of the rough cop on one side, and the rise to power of the young drug lord on the other, in an escalation of violence that reaches its peak in the epic final showdown between the two protagonists, in the manner of a modern western. The setting is truly excellent: the characters move in a dirty Chinatown bustling with people of all kinds, acting in polluted streets, dimly lit venues, and dilapidated basements.
The deployment of resources is remarkable and it shows (De Laurentiis production), the directing is competent and clean, and the plot is rather engaging, even if it doesn't shine with originality. In my opinion, the weak point of the film is the stereotypical characters and the numerous clichés (intentional or not?) that fill the film. The Chinese mafia is a "yellowed" photocopy (pardon the pun) of The Godfather saga, represented by a council of old, conservative mafia-wise men, opposed by the ambitious young lion without scruples (John Lone) ready to unseat them by any means necessary to impose his will.
The counterpart, Rourke, is the "usual" rough and stubborn cop, all fists and burgers, living on the edge due to his intemperance; of course, he is brutal and violent but just, of course, he makes mistakes but always in good faith, of course, he's a Vietnam veteran, of course, he's divorced, and of course, he has a crappy personal life. As the third prominent character, there’s the Chinese journalist (Tracy Tzu) representing the clean face of the Chinese American community (just so the film wouldn’t be accused of racism), who soon becomes the lover of our police Captain.
The film offers a couple of hours of good entertainment, but the annoying impression is that it's a bit pretentious, meaning it seems that Cimino (with the help of Oliver Stone in the screenplay) wanted to create a mythical epic in the deep yellow belly of the States, mixing police film with gangster movie with all the attributes of the genre, enriched by social criticism and slices of daily life. In the end, what remains are the beautiful settings, some lines that draw a smile, a lot of violence, but no truly serious reflection on the subject matter. To make matters worse, in the Italian version, Rourke, due to the dubbing by the omnipresent Amendola in those years, sounds like Rocky Balboa with a trench coat.
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