Originally published at: Watch the full length Clones of Bruce Lee | Boing Boing
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When I was a kid growing up in England, there was a tabloid-led panic around videotapes and the censors were dragging their heels on allowing the releases of “nasty” movies on VHS. The famous part of this was cheap horror movies, but the chief censor at the time was a dimwitted racist with a complex about “ninja” weaponry and Bruce Lee was among the stuff that didn’t appear on tape for a long time.
But the clones DID get released on tape, flying under the radar somehow (in retrospect, I guess because they distributors would agree to cut any nunchaku scenes). So growing up I saw all the fake Bruce Lee movies but none of the real ones. I was maybe 9 years old and couldn’t tell where the real Bruce Lee ended and the fake ones began. In retrospect it’s all so surreal and meta.
Teenage Mutant Hero Turtles in the UK.
You never saw a ninja.
The Dragon Lives Again is one of my favorite fake Bruce Lee movies. Everybody* is in it: Bruce Lee, Dracula, The Godfather, Clint Eastwood, Emmanuelle, Zatoichi…
*These may or may not be the original characters and/or actors. Take a guess.
This is pure gold!
Well,no. You wouldn’t, would you.
Already Regretting Assigning the Death of Chief Censor James Ferman to George Orwell
Winston was taking part in a demonstration in one of the central London squares, packed with thousands, at the moment when it happened. It was night, and the white faces and the banners were luridly floodlit. On a scarlet-draped platform an orator of the Inner Party haranged the crowd, his voice made metallic by the amplifiers, booming forth an endless catalogue of atrocities until the fury of the crowd drowned it in a bestial roaring.
His speech proceeded for perhaps twenty minutes when a messenger hurried on to the platform and a scrap of paper was slipped into the speaker’s hand. He unrolled and read it without pausing in his speech. Nothing altered in his voice or manner, or in the content of what he was saying, but suddenly the words were different. Without anything said, a wave of understanding rippled through the crowd. Teenage Mutant NINJA Turtles! The next moment there was a tremendous commotion. The banners and posters with which the square was decorated were all wrong! Teenage Mutant HERO Turtles. It was sabotage! There was a riotous interlude while posters were ripped from the walls, banners torn to shreds and trampled underfoot.
The thing that impressed Winston in looking back was that the speaker had switched from one line to the other actually in midsentence, not only without a pause, but without even breaking the syntax.
Good work, fella.
Yeah so, Leonardo had Twin Katanas, Donatello had a Bō, Raphael wielded twin Sai, and Michelangelo…? He just sort of waved his empty hands around in the background and ate pizza? Am I remembering this correctly?
He did a lot of painting and some very sexy sculpture.
He also organized the wrapping of the San Miniato al Monte in mattresses almost 500 years before Christo and Jeanne-Claude picked up the idea.
I was expecting this to have been an Alan Smithee project, but was pleasantly surprised
TIL. Thanks!
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