AKA Bruce Lee versus Gay Power

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DIRECTED BY: Adriano Stuart

FEATURING: Adriano Stuart, Maurício do Valle, Helena Ramos, Edgard Franco, Nadir Fernandes

PLOT: When Chang, a wandering warrior of mixed origin who is well-versed in the skills and philosophies of kung fu, returns home to find that his family has been murdered by a gang of outrageous bandits, he vows to seek vengeance.

COMMENTS: No one associated with the making of this film ever called it Bruce Lee vs. Gay Power. This is important, because that extraordinary title seems to be at the heart of its lingering reputation. If some enterprising videocassette huckster hadn’t decided to employ some savvy attention-getting branding, combining an extreme example of Bruceploitation with a thematically unexpected opponent, then Kung Fu contra As Bonecas might never have made it out of Brazil. As it is, I’ve had to take a crash course in Brazilian history and film trends just to wrap my head around exactly what’s going on here, to say nothing of stoking a passing familiarity with poorly aged 1970s American television. Even with that, I have my doubts as to whether I’ve gotten it all. It is often said of art that if you have to explain what your piece means, then it has failed. Kung Fu contra As Bonecas has this problem to the nth power. 

Let’s start with the part that was closest to my wheelhouse. The movie is, in large part, an outright spoof of the David Carradine vehicle “Kung Fu,” the popular American TV series in which a distinctly non-Asian itinerant warrior made his way across the Old West confronting various forms of oppression and bigotry. (Depending upon who is telling the story, the real Bruce Lee either devised the premise for “Kung Fu” and had it stolen by unscrupulous producers, or was first in line for the lead role but was bypassed by studio execs who couldn’t fathom making an Asian actor the star of a prime-time TV series.)

Playing the lead role himself in a ludicrous oversized jet-black wig, Adriano Stuart deliberately mocks “Kung Fu”’s conventions, with flashbacks that directly parody the hero’s education in some dark monastery, turning the show’s innocent boy into a privileged young man in a graduation cap and gown and bearing the sobriquet “mosquito” (in place of the series’ “grasshopper”). He is instructed in the ways of Zen calm, which he consistently fails to maintain. In case that’s not obvious enough, this Chang sports a pink tank top featuring a glittery illustration of Carradine’s character hovering above the words “KUNG FU,” a garment that one suspects he picked up in a Hot Topic. It’s either unrestrained commitment to the bit or desperate flailing to make sure everyone gets the joke. 

Chang’s enemies are the cangaceiros, outlaws who brutalize the region, engaging in robbery, rape, and murder. Scenes in which the gang terrorizes innocents almost seem to be aping Sergio Leone, depicting their violence graphically and unblinkingly and setting a serious contrast to the ridiculous hero. However, the feminine habits that mark the thugs as the “dolls” of the title—they dress in shiny pastels, sing and dance like the chorus from “South Pacific,” and spend their downtime painting their nails, shaving their legs, and cavorting about with curlers in their hair—undercut their sense of danger. (They also wear numbers on their backs like a football team. No explanation is deemed necessary.) They don’t seem to be homosexual in their leanings, but present more as gay in the stereotypical limp-wristed, saucy poofter, “They hit Buddy!” sense. They’re truly odd, both as characters and as plot elements, because their behavior seems motivated by little more than the joke. Which makes it all the more off-putting to consider their basis in historical fact. The real cangaço were lionized in the Robin Hood tradition, waging war against the government from their outposts in northwestern Brazil and frequently targeting the wealthy and powerful. They indulged a passion for wearing flashy clothes and fancy French perfume (which helped cover for their inability to bathe on a regular basis). By turning these folk heroes into villains both bloodthirsty and flouncy, Stuart seems to be making a feature-length gay slur.

Or is he? It’s a genuine challenge to figure out what the filmmakers think of any of their characters. The ostensible hero may actually be more authentically gay than any of the fey caricatures he fights. He is completely oblivious to the charms of the opposite sex, to the point that one adoring woman utterly fails to grab his attention until she drops all coyness and bestows upon him a surprise blowjob of gratitude. Chang is also manifestly terrible at kung fu fighting. Stuart tries to cover things up with a combination of overcranking and undercranking, but he can’t hide his incompetence, and is mainly reduced to administering a lot of kicks to the crotch. This is in stark contrast to Ramos’ feisty heroine Maria, who uses her superior fighting skills and much greater tenacity to fend off a gang of assailants and become Chang’s essential companion. It takes an eternity for the foes to finally face off in the wake of a lengthy party scene, and when they do, the likeable Maria ends the film dead (a demonstration of the villain’s power and the hero’s fortitude), the central conflict is resolved with a knife, and Chang marches off into the desert in the company of the film’s only definitively queer character. So who knows what we’re supposed to think of any of this. 

Adding to the confusion is the indeterminate time in which all this takes place. It’s a Western parody, while the villains date back to the early 20th century. But alongside them are plenty of modern-day features like tape recorders and VW buses. The question is whether all the anachronisms and erratic themes are intentional, or just lazy screenwriting. Is Stuart a satirical genius, or Brazil’s answer to Jason Friedberg and Aaron Seltzer? It’s tricky to assess the film, and you start to appreciate the cleverness of that late-arriving new title. Bruce Lee versus Gay Power turns out to be a surprisingly apt summary of the central showdown in the film, but also conceals the fact that the actual product has none of the surreal fun that the new title implies. Like latter day attention-getting titles like Pride and Prejudice and Zombies and Abraham Lincoln, Vampire Hunter, it promises more than it can deliver. So this becomes the tale of two movies: Kung Fu contra As Bonecas, an incomprehensible mishmash that either wants to celebrate or lambast both martial arts conventions and gay flamboyance, and Bruce Lee versus Gay Power, the elevator pitch for what a truly irreverent version of that story might be. Alas, only one of those movies is truly weird, and it’s not the real one.

WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

“…his masters are old Chinese guys in blackface speaking Portuguese. That’s only the beginning of the bizarre, ‘what the fuck’ moments Bruce Lee vs. Gay Power has in store for the viewer. The film is pretty much based around them… Unfortunately for every genuinely great moment Bruce Lee vs. Gay Power has to offer, there are at least three unbearably dull ones standing in the way,..  Legendary or not, watch this one only to say you’ve seen it.” – Uncle Jasper, Silver Emulsion

ADDITIONAL LINKS OF INTEREST: DrNgor’s excellent recap at Kung Fu Fandom and Todd Stadtman’s thoughtful review at Die, Danger, Die, Die, Kill! were invaluable in unpacking some Brazilian history and this movie’s connection to Brazil’s cangaço film genre. 

(This movie was nominated for review by Regicide. Suggest a weird movie of your own here.)