Several weeks ago, I went to Cineplex to watch Karate Kid: Legends, the latest movie in the martial arts-based series, the first of which hit the screens in 1984. In the entire hall, there were only three people. It is clear that one-time super hit The Karate Kid does not resonate with the current audience anymore.
As the film began, the fact that martial arts no longer pulled the audience dawned on me.
It was sad because exactly 40 years ago, if a karate movie was in theaters, it would be natural to see ticket touts selling tickets three times the actual rate in what we once called the “black.”
Actually, it’s all very civilised now: We go to a multiplex, form a proper line, buy a ticket, popcorn, drinks, and then settle in amazing comfort. All this is done inside a massive shopping mall where the air conditioner is on. Tickets no longer read in bold letters “shitatop niyontrito” (air-conditioned), jostling at the entrance is rare and black market ticket sellers, a forgotten breed.
For good reason, the latest version of the Karate Kid film triggered a nostalgic dive of sorts because, back in the early 80s, I, like most others, was also blown away by the martial arts craze. But first, here’s what the movie scene in 1983-84 looked like: Two types of protagonists dominated filmdom. In the first, Stallone and Schwarzenegger, followed by a dozen others, created the body builder, bulging muscles, and machine gun-wielding hero template, hell-bent on destroying everything in a fit of rage.
For the other, we had Chuck Norris, David Carradine, Wang Yu, Jackie Chan, weaving martial arts-based fantasy.
Although Rambo, Commando and the mass destruction-themed movies were doing brisk business, for most Bangladeshis, martial arts movies topped everything. To trace this love, one needs to dive into the enduring Bangladeshi fascination with Bruce Lee. Although Lee had died in 1973, his legacy spread across the globe. In Bangladesh, the late 70s saw a social revolution involving martial arts schools, thanks to the obsession with Bruce Lee.
If it’s fashionable now to flaunt a smartphone or any other gadget, but back then, the way to draw admiration was to come out of the martial arts school and slowly walk back home in the karate dojo dress (Gi). Even better, if one had a flaming dragon or a menacing looking snake embroidered at the back. The ultimate macho line used by many: “I learn karate at the black dragon dojo. My younger brother went even further: After watching Octagon (1980), the ninja themed martial arts film, and American Ninja (1985), he had shurikens (a Japanese concealed weapon) made from tin.
When the usage of the word “dragon” became a little clichéd for schools, someone came up with a new, rather startling, name: Snake shadow. After watching a C-grade Hong Kong film about a sham martial arts style called “Monkey,” one of our senior friends opened a dojo, naming it “Monkey style, snake venom.”
The inspiration for such a name came from a 1979 film, Snake in the Monkey's Shadow.
With so many schools, competition surged and each one tried to eclipse the other with innovative names. Unwilling to be overawed by all the snakes and monkeys, a nearby school changed their name to “Drunken Cooking Style."
Trust me, I am not making this up.
In the drunken style, as shown in a movie, the fighters appear to be inebriated, moving, as if under the
influence of alcohol. At family gatherings, parents often called their children to show off their karate kata (sequenced movements) in front of impressed relatives. Come to think of it, youngsters of our time were physically active and took pleasure in learning martial arts instead of spending hours on phones and tablets.
Bangladesh has had several celluloid craze moments, both with local and foreign films, but perhaps, in the latter category, the biggest one was with Bruce Lee’s Enter the Dragon, which hit Modhumita Cinema Hall in 1984.
We had already seen Lee, as Kato, when Bangladesh Television in 1981-82, aired 60s US TV cult series The Green Hornet. When Enter the Dragon came on the big screen, the city came to a standstill and the topic of discussion was Lee and his comrades in the film, Jim Kelly and John Saxon. Until this movie, no one had ever seen Jim Kelly before. Kelly, a Blaxploitation era film star, later enjoyed success in Bangladesh with his film, Black Samurai (1977), shown here in 1986.
Although made in 1973 and released about a month after Bruce Lee’s death, Enter the Dragon cemented his image as the ultimate martial arts super star. Interestingly, despite a long-term fascination with Lee, the movie came to Bangladesh almost ten years later, in 1984. But if you were lucky to have been a teenager in the 80s, this wouldn’t have come as a surprise because, way before globalization, Bangladesh was just a small speck on the global map, and Dhaka a slow moving town.
To give more context, bell-bottoms and long collar shirts proudly ruled fashion here in 1983 although in the West, they had gone out of style by the end of 1981. Michael Jackson’s Thriller, released in the US in 1982, hit the charts here in mid-1984.
Enter the Dragon had a profound impact on our own filmdom plus the social outlook on martial arts. The film’s success inspired many young people to dive into the martial arts world.
Bachchu, a very close friend, now deceased, decided that, in addition to learning the basic principles of martial arts, we needed to practice by inserting our hands into hot sand and a bowl filled with rocks.
Our hands would be like steel, he promised.
So much was our obsession with martial arts movies that we watched A Man Called Tiger (1973), shown here in Dhaka in 1984, at least seven times.
These Hong Kong manufactured films impacted local productions too. Not to be left behind, our own Sohel Rana, in 1985, came up with his martial arts super hit film Shorif Bodmash.
A re-enactment of the iconic fight at the Colosseum in Rome from Way of the Dragon (1972) was shown with Sohel Rana and martial arts specialist Jahangir taking the places of Bruce Lee and Chuck Norris respectively.
Honestly, the martial arts frenzy of the past only gets more thrilling.
As many young people began learning the craft, some took it very seriously, earning black belts and then moving into competitions. At that time, leading sporting clubs of Dhaka had martial arts teams, which took part in the city’s top level martial arts competition. Several guys in my area finished the full courses and then, sometime in the early 90s, applied for UK visas, with paper cuttings of local tournaments, to take part in a competition in London.
Unfortunately, martial arts films are now rare; as the genre has been on the decline for some time. Naturally, the question arises: Why did they make Karate Kid: Legends, at a time when interest is at its lowest.
Well, I can’t answer that but I am sure, in the weeks it ran, all those grey-haired or, hair less ones like me who were teenagers in 1984, made time to watch it. The film was nothing extraordinary, but it certainly reignited memories which had been gathering dust in some remote corner of the mind. Evocative? You bet.
Right, now where did I keep that DVD of Man from Hong Kong?
Towheed Feroze is a former journalist.