Review by
Jason Abbey
It was a brave or foolhardy individual that decided a box set of the
Machiavellian Fu Manchu was required just as the issue of race and
representation became a hot button topic due to contemporary events which
led to the removal of certain films and programs for their antiquated
depiction of countries and ethnicity. Personally, erasing the more
problematic parts of our cinematic history stifles debate and potentially
erases the historical problematic actions and depictions of race. So, let
us don our finest silk robes, slap on the silly putty and deal with the
yellow peril that Sax Rohmer’s deeply racist title character enacts
on good old Blighty.
The Face of Fu Manchu
The first of the five movies in producer Harry Alan Towers' series
is arguably the best of the lot. It's certainly the best looking in the
classic Hammer (not a Hammer film but Don Sharp had directed a few
in his time) method of making a relatively meagre budget look far fancier
than the coffers would allow.
Shot mainly in Ireland, this begins with the execution of criminal
mastermind Fu Manchu (Christopher Lee), but do not worry - with a
further four films to come his deceased state is fluid at best. The
execution is witnessed by his arch nemesis Nayland Smith (Nigel Green), who grows suspicious of the veracity of the death when corpses start
floating in the Thames and a deadly Tibetan Poppy poison starts offing
members of the public. With the help of Doctor Petrie (Nayland’s
Factotum/Bestie/Love Partner…the relationship is fluid as the films go
on), he discovers the dastardly villain is still alive, having hypnotised
a double to literally take the chop for him. Working in an underwater lair
and with a casual disregard for antiquities, Fu Manchu flexes his muscles
by wiping out a village in Essex (the slaaag) - a surprisingly effective
and dark scene with multitudes (okay, a dozen) of corpses strewn across
the bucolic splendour of England’s finest county.
A relatively tame affair, this hints at casual sadism with the daughter of
the despicable Doctor Lin Tang (Tsai Chin) ever ready with a whip
and a glint in her eye, but instead makes do with an elaborate unwieldy
plot for world domination that gives it a pound-land James Bond flavour.
Green makes for a stern and imposing Smith, terse and focussed, whose one
and done embodiment of the role leaves you wistful for what he could have
done in further films in the series. Petrie would be played by
Howard Marion-Crawford with diminishing returns but here he very
much embodies a mutton chops Doctor Watson type, all bluster and colonial
spirit. Lee was a big fan of the books apparently and if you ignore the
very large elephant in the room regarding casting, has an intimidating
feline quality that he has used throughout his career.
It all moves at a fair clip in a Sunday afternoon sort of way, with some
fairly archaic fight choreography and a few cameos such as
James Robertson Justice as a museum curator, but the professional
proficiency of the enterprise seems to make this feel more racist. If I do
have to stomach xenophobia, I like it sleazy (luckily
Jess Franco climbs on board later). This is in essence the Daily
Mail transmogrified into celluloid form.
The Brides of Fu Manchu
In this retread of the first film, returning director Sharp appears to be
working with a reduced budget. It's competently shot with the usual dodgy
fight scenes. This time the dastardly doctor is kidnapping the daughters
of prominent scientists in an attempt to force them to build a device that
transmits blast waves through a radio transmitter. Nayland Smith is back
on the case (this time in the guise of Douglas Wilmer) with the
assistance of the dependable Dr Petrie.
Here the formula is set - with headstrong daughter Lin Tang always ready
with a whip and an urge to torture - for an overly complicated plan for
world domination (this also includes a bizarre lever that goes to maximum
power then up to and past 11 if you want to put everyone in jeopardy).
Burt Kwouk makes an appearance as a henchman here and brings some
much-needed life to proceedings (also being Chinese is a plus point). Lee
is subdued in this instalment, sat behind a desk giving orders and
behaving more like an office manager in a small radio business than a hell
spawned villain out for world domination. Wilmer brings a Holmesian grace
to his Nayland Smith and business ends as becomes standard with a
fortuitous explosion and a threat to return from Fu Manchu at the climax.
It is serviceable but in the space of two films there is a sense of
overfamiliarity.
The Vengeance of Fu Manchu
For the third in the sequence, producer Towers drafts in TV director
Jeremy Summers. Wilmer stays on board for another round as Nayland
Smith. Filmed in Hong Kong, this time Fu Manchu gets the better of his
nemesis, kidnapping and replacing him with a duplicate using the finest
techniques to transform one of his henchmen into a facsimile of Scotland
Yard's finest. Wilmer plays both roles, mainly silent as the duplicate.
With a growl and a constipated grimace he murders Nayland’s housekeeper
and faces the death penalty.
Playing like a kitchen sink Face/Off with a Ground Force
budget, this is a small scale but engaging entry in the series, playing
like a revenge thriller rather than the low rent James Bond shenanigans of
previous entries. There are some choice lines; "We have a modern sending
and receiving system," the devil doctor intones before unveiling a scroll.
This also sticks with the theme of leaving explosives lying around that
ends badly and proves that a decent health and safety advisor should be
his first hire for his new lair. This is the most restrained in the saga,
which works as a palate cleanser because things are about to get weird.
The Blood of Fu Manchu
The final two entries in the set are lively (sometimes intentional, mainly
not). This is due to the frankly bonkers decision to hand the reigns over
to the scattergun, dreamlike weirdness of Jess Franco. With a new
director comes a new Nayland Smith (Richard Greene), who doesn’t
get to make much of an impact as he is incapacitated by a snake venom
poisoned kiss from one of Fu Manchu’s hypnotised sex slaves (continuing
the tradition of death by clearly non poisonous snakes).
By now the franchise is off the rails and the brand name tarnished to the
extent that the last two entries are retitled in the US with nary a
mention of the devil doctor. A more European sensibility with
post-production dubbing and liberal use of nudity puts this a million
miles from the Boys Own adventures of the first entry.
Both Smith and Fu Manchu are side-lined for large parts as the dramatic
focus rests on Archaeologist Carl Jansen (Gotz George) and bandido
Sancho Lopez (Ricardo Palacios). Sancho and his men enjoy a spot of
light-hearted rape, pillaging and pig rustling, all to up the nudity
requirements, and Franco indulges his penchant for crash zooms and random
editing approaches during the fight scenes.
By this stage, plot starts to make no sense (at one-point Lopez is
kidnapped by Fu Manchu because he believes him to be in league with
Smith). Fu Manchu's plot to get world leaders killed by a kiss, unleashing
loads of poison during a full moon seems mainly to be happening off
screen.
Shirley Eaton turns up in fetish gear to espouse some nonsense that
feels out of place, mainly because it has been lifted wholesale from
another film. Marion-Crawford looks worse for wear as a now bumbling, tea
drinking sidekick whose post synced dialogue does not appear to be the
same as originally filmed. The wear and tear of his alcoholism is also
distinctly noticeable.
Sleazy and bonkers, with a wayward approach to plotting, narrative logic
and the basic grammar of film, this is the favoured entry for fans of
Franco’s particular brand of dreamlike ineptitude.
The Castle of Fu Manchu
The last entry feels like contractual filler. The opening of Fu Manchu
testing an opium derived ice maker splices footage from the climax of
The Brides of Fu Manchu with the climactic sinking of the
Titanic from A Night to Remember. Using his plan as a means to hold the world to ransom or the sea gets
it is one of the more outlandishly pulp plots in the series. Hooking up
with an opium dealer, whom he instantly double-crosses, Fu Manchu this
time is based in Anatolia, but all the Franco staples are here: the
weirdly silent fights, obviously rubber weaponry, an overload of colour
filters and scenes that go on interminably for no good reason. The
open-heart surgery is a particular longueur.
Franco reins in his sleazier impulses this time, which makes it the lesser
of his two films. The focus is now firmly back on Smith and Fu Manchu,
although Rosalba Neri makes a striking impression as a drug lord
henchwoman with a penchant for pin stripes and a fez. It is unfortunate
that the strong woman is left a shrieking damsel to be saved in the
waterlogged climax. More stock footage of a Dam breaking is also filched
from Campbell's Kingdom, which means Dirk Bogarde and Stanley Baker make unknowing cameos in
this final film.
Lee intones that he will return at the climax, but poor box office and
critical reception finally killed the doctor in a way his arch nemesis
never could. Fu Manchu had one last hurrah in the execrable Peter Sellers
vehicle The Fiendish Plot of Dr. Fu Manchu.
Extras:
More contextualised racism than you could shake a stick at; all five films
come with an introduction from Vic Pratt, whose "reading a ransom demand
to camera" style only adds to the fun. Knowledgeable and light-hearted.
All come with image gallery, trailers, and commentaries (with the
exception of Castle of Fu Manchu). All from 4K scans.
BEHP archival interviews are provided with Don Sharp, Ernest Steward and
Jeremy Summers.
Archival short interview with Christopher Lee in Ireland.
Christopher Frayling examines the history and reputation of Sax Rohmer,
packed with interesting stories regarding race in '40s Hollywood and a
vexed Sax Rohmer when his books were banned by the Nazis.
Super 8 version of The Face of Fu Manchu.
Two Versions of The Brides of Fu Manchu: the original UK theatrical version (94 mins) and the original US
theatrical version with unique prologue (95 mins).
A Guardian NFT interview with Christopher Lee that is worth the price of
the set alone.
Kim Newman discusses Sax Rohmer and the Fu Manchu novels.
Jonathan Rigby discusses the early career of Christopher Lee.
A short interview with first assistant director Anthony Waye remembering
Harry Alan Towers and Fu Manchu.
Because you cannot have too much stuff, a Children’s Film Foundation movie
The Ghost of Monk’s Island (1966, 93 mins), directed by
Jeremy Summers, is also thrown in.
Two versions of The Blood of Fu Manchu and the alternative
'Kiss Me to Death' title. Strictly cosmetic.
Stephen Thrower discusses the relationship between Jesús Franco and Harry
Alan Towers.
Clapper loader Ray Andrew remembers Harry Alan Towers and Fu Manchu in a
short interview.
Two silent versions are also thrown in:
The Mystery of Dr. Fu-Manchu: ‘The Fiery Hand’ (1923) and
The Further Mysteries of Dr. Fu-Manchu: ‘The Coughing Horror’
(1924,) the original silent serial starring Harry Agar Lyons, presented
with an optional new score by the band Peninsula.
The Castle of Fu Manchu also has the original title sequence
and an alternative Istanbul title.
Rosalba Neri talks about working on
The Castle of Fu Manchu in the short interview.
To wrap up the package is an interview with Harry Alan Towers, the
producer and driving force behind the films discussing his lively
adventures in the film business.
If you're still greedy for more, there is also a 120-page book featuring
essays on the Fu Manchu cycle by Tim Lucas, a look at the career of
producer/screenwriter Harry Alan Towers, an examination of the work of Fu
Manchu creator Sax Rohmer, new writing on
The Ghost of Monk’s Island and the Stoll Pictures’ Fu Manchu
silent serials, archival newspaper articles on the films, extracts from
the films’ pressbooks, an overview of contemporary critical responses, and
film credits.
Quite frankly this is a comprehensive set of informative and
illustrative extras for a series of films that are ramshackle at best and
downright shoddy in places. The racist nature of the films is not ignored
and covered extensively in the talking heads; the meat of the boxset is in
the bounty of ancillary information contained within this treasure trove
of colonial nonsense.
The Fu Manchu Cycle, 1965-1969 is
on blu-ray now from Powerhouse Films.