Master of Kung Fu Epic Collection, Vol. 2 by Doug Moench

He … was … a … superhero, and superheroes don’t die!Įven decades later, my heart skips a beat when Bruce bounds up the stairs in the final act of Game of Death, replacing the imposter who filled his shoes for the first hour of that otherwise-unwatchable picture. It just didn’t seem possible that such a specimen of superhuman strength and ability could have died. Idolizing Bruce Lee was bittersweet, knowing he was gone, clinging to the urban legends that circulated at the time - that Bruce wasn’t dead, that he had faked his death to retire to a Shaolin Temple, or gone underground to evade vengeful Chinese gangsters. distribution to capitalize on Lee’s posthumous fame. When I wasn’t reading comics that summer, you’d find me in a theater taking in multiple showings of badly-dubbed versions of Fists of Fury and The Chinese Connection that were rushed into U.S.

That summer, Hollywood Boulevard was a shrine to Lee, with his photo in every gift shop window, and his films playing in several theaters (this was back when Hollywood Boulevard had theaters). … so much so that I must have sneaked into repeat showings of Enter the Dragon at least a half-dozen times in 1974.

My father was a good guy and a lover of action films and he took me to see the R-rated Enter the Dragon - once - during it’s theatrical run, and I was mesmerized by Lee’s power, grace, charisma and skill … Lee was an “overnight” success story years in the making, after having appeared on American television in the 1960s before becoming an international superstar in Chinese cinema in the 70s.īut it was Enter the Dragon that put Lee on the map in the United States. It is one of history’s cruel ironies that Bruce Lee died just days before his 1973 film Enter The Dragon made him into an American cinema superstar. At the age of twelve I moved to Hollywood, CA for several months, and it was while prowling the geek shops of Hollywood Boulevard that I cemented my life-long love of comic books, science fiction, monsters … and Bruce Lee. I’ve written before about how 1974 was a watershed year for me. Jackie Robinson just being Jackie Robinson.īruce-freaking-Lee was an honest-to-gosh, living and breathing superhero.

Stephen Hawking unraveling the mysteries of the universe. They’re exceptionally rare: Ayrton Senna behind the wheel of a race car. It’s fair to say that I am obsessed with comic book superheroes.īut I admire some real-life superheroes, too. Aside from side-trips to look at undead counts, giant radioactive lizards, and a continuing dalliance with a loin-clothed barbarian, this blog has been all about men ( and women!) in tights. I’ve covered a lot of superhero territory in the past sixty-seven issues of Longbox Graveyard.

Master of Kung Fu Epic Collection, Vol. 2 by Doug Moench