“Bridge of Death” Theatrical Poster
Director: Lee Doo-yong
Cast: Han Yong-cheol, Bae Su-chun, Kim Yeongran, Chang Il-sik, Woo Yeon-jeong, Mun-ju Kim
Running Time: 90 min.
By Paul Bramhall
In my review for Returned a Single-Legged Man 2 I concluded with “What’s left to ask but for more taekwon-action productions be made available to be enjoyed.” The line was in reference to the Korean Film Archive’s decision in 2023 to release some of director Lee Doo-yong’s taekwon-action movies starring Han Yong-cheol on their Korean Classic Films YouTube channel, which kicked off with The Manchurian Tiger and Returned Single-Legged Man. Sadly Doo-yong would pass away in January 2024, so was no longer around when the Archive released the sequel a month later in HD, uncut, and in its original language probably for the first time since it was released. Within the same year the ask was answered, when in August Doo-yong and Yong-cheol’s 2nd collaboration was released, Bridge of Death.
With information being so scarce on the taekwon-action genre for so long, confounded by the fact many were distributed overseas with different titles and edited into completely different plots (and thanks to Godfrey Ho, some even had gweilo ninja footage spliced in!), it’s not surprising that Bridge of Death has rarely been mentioned. On the likes of the Hong Kong Movie Database the title is listed as an alias for Returned Single-Legged Man, more thank likely down to the iconic scene where Han Yong-cheol takes on a bunch of lackeys single handedly (or should that be footedly?) on a bridge. There is an entry for Bridge of Death, except it’s under the title Gate of Destiny, which perplexingly also has the original title down as an alias, giving some idea as to why there’s so much confusion around Korea’s martial arts output from the 1970’s and 1980’s.
Bridge of Death would only be Han Yong-cheol’s 3rd time as a leading man, having appeared in Choi Young-chul’s Black White Big Fist straight after debuting in Lee Doo-yong’s The Manchurian Tiger. Watching the collaborations between Doo-yong and Yong-cheol fifty years on, of which they cranked out 6 in 1974 and would go their separate ways, there’s a sense of familiarity to what was a fairly stock standard plot template. Underground Korean independence fighters are roughing it out in Manchuria, hoping for the day when the Japanese will be kicked out so they can return to their homeland, and there’s usually a missing stash of gold involved that’s intended to be used to fund the independence movement. Expect Bae Su-chun (Miss, Please Be Patient, Return of Red Tiger) to turn up as the Japanese villain, the usual roster of lackeys, and Yong-cheol eventually revealing himself to also be on the side of Korean independence.
For their sophomore collaboration together Bridge of Death does zero to deviate from the formula, although it’s worth mentioning that the plot may well have still felt fresh for audiences at the time, more so than watching Doo-yong and Yong-cheol’s collaborations out of order today. Yong-cheol plays the homeless son of a traitor who worked for the Japanese, and as such is frowned upon wherever he goes, with even his introduction being an amusingly undignified affair. Thrown out of a restaurant from the first-floor balcony, the obvious switch to a mannequin is sure to raise a smile in its quaintness. Referred to as a “Korean punk” by the Japanese, he’s taken pity on by a young apple seller, played by Kim Yeongran (7-Star Grand Mantis, Kill the Shogun), who turns out to be a part of the underground freedom fighter movement along with her brother.
While Yeongran is keen to bring Yong-cheol into their fold despite his father’s background, he wants nothing to do with it, however when the Japanese catch wind that she’s a part of the independence movement and knows the location of a stash of gold (of course), Yong-cheol feels obliged to protect her. Naturally that involves unleashing a barrage of kicks against the usual roster of bad guys, with Chang Il-sik (Tiger of Northland, Dragon from Shaolin) playing the lead of a gang who are also after the gold, and offering up a suitably intimidating opponent for Yong-cheol to flex his feet against in the extended finale.
The most interesting element of Bridge of Death (apart from the fact that there really isn’t any bridge to speak of) is a pronounced Bruce Lee influence. At one point Yong-cheol dons a disguise not dissimilar in comedic tone to what the Little Dragon portrayed in 1972’s Fist of Fury, and at the end he dons an all-black getup to sneak around the Japanese headquarters. It’s a look which feels clearly influenced by Bruce Lee’s sneaking around Han’s underground lair in 1973’s Enter the Dragon, and notably at the time of Bridge of Death’s release he’d only passed away 9 months earlier. It’s possible that for their 2nd collaboration perhaps Doo-yong was playing around with the idea of making Yong-cheol a localised version of the star who’d become popular throughout Asia.
The most obvious reference is when Yong-cheol starts bouncing on the balls of his feet during his fight against Il-sik, which even includes a flick of the nose, removing any doubt that the intention was to mimic Lee’s mannerisms. However it would appear the early attempt at Bruceploitation was a one-off, as by the time Doo-yong and Yong-cheol would collaborate again a few months later for Returned Single-Legged Man, the Bruce Lee influence was nowhere to be found, allowing Yong-cheol to further develop his own screen identity. Like The Manchurian Tiger it’s Kwan Yung-moon (Kung Fu Zombie, Blood Child) who’s in the role of fight choreographer, and here he once more stays behind the camera, a habit he’d thankfully break in Returned Single-Legged Man where he’d share top billing with Yong-cheol.
Despite the condensed timeframe that Doo-yong and Yong-cheol cranked out their 6 collaborations, with The Manchurian Tiger released in March, and the last of their collaborations A Betrayer released in October, there’s a clear uptick in the quality of the fight choreography with each production. The action in Bridge of Death noticeably utilises the undercranking technique to speed up the flow of the fights, and there’s the welcome inclusion of breakable props, with plenty of collateral damage in the form of vases and door windows on the receiving end of kicks. There’s still a certain clunkiness to some of the fights here, with the flow that screen fighting requires not quite there, resulting in the occasional pause during a fight while waiting for another performer to execute their choreography, but for 1974 it’s completely forgivable.
Even with the traditional formula that Bridge of Death rigidly sticks to for the most part, it does have one surprise up its sleeve with a nihilistic ending that feels pulled straight out of the Chang Cheh playbook (and foreshadows the likes of Hong Kong’s The Gold Connection by several years). Considering the kind of censorship that Korean cinema suffered from in the 1970’s it’s an eyebrow raising moment that it was able to be left intact, however on reflection, when considering earlier plot points it’s clearer as to how they got away with it. Ironically it’s offset by being one of the few Manchuria westerns that closes with the announcement of Japan’s surrender, which would also place its setting as 1945, considerably later than the go-to time period of the 1930’s.
While Bridge of Death is one of the lesser productions that Doo-yong and Yong-cheol released during their 1974 hot streak, it still ticks all the boxes of what you want to see in a Manchuria western, offering up a heady mix of duplicitous bar girls, determined freedom fighters, villainous Japanese, and kicks to the face. There’s also the undeniable fact that, considering these productions have been unavailable for the best part of fifty years, to be able to watch them in HD, presented in their original language, and uncut is a rare pleasure that many had resigned themselves to never happening. For that, it’s almost impossible to complain.
Paul Bramhall’s Rating: 6/10
