Daughter of the Dragon

Recently I saw Anna May Wong in Piccadilly, a stylish silent melodrama made in England in 1929. It has its flaws, but over all it struck me as quite interesting and unusual, and it did provide its fascinating star with a role she could sink her teeth into. Anna May Wong was virtually the only Chinese-American leading lady of her era, gorgeous in an unconventional way, with a magnetism rivaling that of Louise Brooks. I was eager to see more of her work, and knew that she'd made several silent films in Hollywood during the '20s and a number of talkies there in the '30s, after she'd returned from Europe.

One of Anna May's first vehicles upon her return to the U.S. was Daughter of the Dragon, which was also one of the first screen adaptations of a Fu Manchu story from Sax Rohmer's long-running series of books. Unfortunately, while Piccadilly exhibited the best technical qualities of the late silent era, including first-rate cinematography, fluid camera movement, and smooth editing, this film exhibits some of the weakest traits of early talkies: the dialog is awkward, the editing rhythm is lethargic, and the acting (with a couple of exceptions) is theatrical in the worst sense of the word. There are sporadic attempts by the director to infuse the movie with striking visuals, such as silhouettes cast on screens or quirky camera angles, but for the most part the presentation is as flat and dull as a school play. Aside from rare bursts of action we find ourselves staring at actors who strike attitudes and declaim purple prose against the harsh crackle of the soundtrack, with no background music to help smooth over the rough spots.

Anna May Wong's charisma is intact, but the material she was given to deliver in Daughter of the Dragon puts her dignity to a severe test. I never expected Political Correctness from a Fu Manchu movie, but it was nonetheless disheartening to observe the Yellow Peril stereotypes on parade here. Sinister Orientals spy on enemies through panels in the wall, and gongs are struck at key moments as Dr. Fu Manchu intones such lines as: "My flower daughter, the knife would wither your petal fingers." Fans of the Charlie Chan series might be surprised to find Warner Oland playing Fu, very much the opposite of his more benign Asian portrayals. Legendary Japanese actor Sessue Hayakawa is on hand as a Chinese detective working for Scotland Yard, thus providing a positive Asian role model to balance the villainy of the others, but even in his case it's made clear in an early scene that he's a "special worker," not an official member of the force.

Hayakawa manages to retain his dignity in the midst of this hokum, and so does Anna May Wong, but the waste of these two extraordinary actors is frustrating to witness. This movie is as silly as the toy dragon breathing fire under the opening credits, and perhaps it can be enjoyed as such, but if you care about these actors as human beings it leaves a depressing aftertaste. One last thought: what's the deal with sinister Asians spying on people through sliding panels in the wall? What's up with that? I mean, did you ever see an old movie where sinister Lithuanians, Greeks or Eskimos spy on people through sliding panels? Oh well, I guess it's just one of those inscrutable mysteries of the Hollywood Orient.

Warner Oland played the sinister Dr. Fu Manchu in a series of three pre-Code movies: The Mysterious Dr. Fu Manchu (1929), The Return of Dr. Fu Manchu (1930), and finally this one, Daughter of the Dragon (1931). It has the disadvantage that it's the sequel to the sequel, repeating the concept that Fu Manchu had actually not died in the previous film, but the advantage that it stars the lovely Anna May Wong. What a concept, an actual Asian actor in an Asian role, and a primary role at that - and not just her, but also a detective (Sessue Hayakawa). It was Wong's first talking picture, and the first time two major Asian stars appeared in the same movie.

Unfortunately, the plot is pretty contrived and the pace is creaky. Early on, Fu Manchu has a drug that allows him to both choke a person and control their mind, which is a little comical. However, after failing to complete his revenge on a wealthy family, he passes the torch to his daughter, Anna May Wong. Using secret passageways and her feminine wiles, she attempts to fulfill her promise, but things get complicated when she begins having feelings for both her target (Bramwell Fletcher) and the detective (Hayakawa).

There are some beautiful shots of Wong in the film, and mercifully the film is not blatantly racist. She oftentimes uses her character's name instead of the pronoun "I" in sentences, and where the idea an Asian person who otherwise speaks perfect English would do this is baffling. Otherwise, her character is strong, smart, and beautiful, though subject to the script's questionable character motivations, which have her swinging between love and murderous rage kind of oddly. As in other films, I'm not wild about Warner Oland in the role, but he turns in a decent enough performance. It was refreshing to see Fletcher have a romantic interest in Wong without recriminations, since miscegenation was so taboo then.

The film just squeaks by with an average rating, but I bumped it up a bit because of Wong and Hayakawa. If those actors don't appeal to you in any particular way, I'd probably advise skipping this one. If you're interested in a more entertaining and campy plot, where Fu Manchu is played by Boris Karloff and with Myrna Loy as his 'exotic' assistant, I would recommend 'The Mask of Fu Manchu' (1932), though that one does dial up the stereotypes and 'yellow fear'.

The third and final (and arguably the best) Paramount talkie with Warner Oland as Fu Manchu. Featuring Anna May Wong as the titular daughter (of Fu), an incredibly young Sessue Hayakawa as an investigator and Bramwell Fletcher as the type of effete, useless "hero" so popular in early 30's films. Fletcher may be best remembered as the young Egyptian explorer who inadvertently brought Boris Karloff back to life in "The Mummy" and was driven mad for his efforts. Anna May Wong is beautiful and gives a fine performance in this somewhat stagey film which has her seeking vengeance on Fu's mortal enemies, the Petrie family. Oland is killed off in the first reel and Wong pretty much carries the film. My "B" movie meter: 7* out of 10

Early talkie bears no resemblance to the book on which it is supposedly based. Wong is lovely, rest of cast wooden in tale of Fu Manchu's daughter carrying out her father's vengeance. Early Hayakawa is interesting. Several scenes, especially last ten minutes, still pack a punch, such as Hayakawa's sacrificing himself to warn others. Oland, as Fu, shows opposite of later casting as Charlie Chan.

I had a really good time at Museum of Modern Art's January '04 showing of this rare Paramount '31 release. Potboiler par excellence with the stunning Anna May Wong giving star presence performance as daughter who swears revenge to her dying father Fu Manchu (Warner Olan). Sessue Hayakawa is the detective smitten with Ms. Wong and who `dies a hundred deaths'. Everything's in this mystery: sliding doors, heavy brocades, Eastern mysticism, London's Chinatown. Directed by Lloyd Corrigan in a most sophisticated manner