Totem Heroes

Linda Lee Cadwell is an American princess tragedy if there ever was one. White to Asian liaisons may not have the same level of stigma attached to them that white to African pairings used to, but in 1964 this must have raised a few eyebrows, Linda's marriage to Bruce Lee, who I suppose ushered in the studio system's exploitation of martial arts as graphic mythology, one that has evolved, with the Chinese and Japanese engaged in gaming theory authencity at times, though today's contemporary academy darlings can of course homage their existence to Akira Kurosawa.

Rashomon the Crow franchise is not, but it is fascinating to see how, almost like a hyper-alloy, B-grade superlative ability merges into personal tragedy, legacy cut short twice over. Bruce dies a sudden medical death from cerebral edema, which any writer could relish for not being hackneyed (although maybe it is, or would be in print, or would need a rather deft touch to have an impact) and then the son of the father gets killed by a prop in a hybrid flick, costing the princess who took a risk another shattered octave.

I stayed up Sunday morning to see if Wicked Prayer stood out any better, and the answer is yes and no. David Boreanaz plays villains with a satirical B flat strum that reminds me of his father's personable weather forecast delivery-- probably a reason why his Angel always disappointed me-- and Dennis Hopper sadly needed the money for his cancer treatment, but this third installment was more interesting, in its own way, a hybrid-hybrid variation whose hackneyed brutality is still wince worthy.

If Lance Mungia had played this movie just a bit straighter, it might have actually been frightening, and it also might have had a lesson to offer about how the history of oppression has its own gaming theory consequences, because the tribes are still trampled, even if casinos on the reservation can be arguably deemed a payback. Every ethnic group is using material high jinks that European culture superimposed, and though I may be weary of entitlement chips on the shoulder, a la Martin Luther King, the overlay of materialism on historic and cultural heritage may not bode well for the species.

The Crow saga is onto something with the vulnerable avenger troping. We see it in films like Hancock, or Steig Larsson's autonomic heroine. Brandon Lee had a decent romantic flair, in his own sudden death forever lost potential. Poor princess Linda, and her quieter tragic cult.