Since his late dad was none other than martial arts film icon Bruce Lee, young Brandon's name alone is a box office draw, but it's an advantage he doesn't need in order to outshine other martial arts action stars such as Jean-Claude Van Damme and Steven Seagal.
Whereas Van Damme hides his shortcomings as an actor with self-parody, Lee can act, handily also possessing a comfortable screen presence of smouldering good looks and Californian cool. When Van Damme fights, he moves with the gracefulness of a tank changing gears; Lee's fisticuffs, on the other hand, are fluid and exhilarating, and the fight scenes have an inventiveness not often seen outside Hong Kong kung-fu movies. Not only are Lee's hands and feet lethal weapons, but he also defends himself with kitchen cabinets and doors - show this man IKEA and he'll show you an armoury.
The plot, naturally, has a cliched ring to it: Jake Lo (Lee) sees a mob killing and has to fight for his life when the witness protection programme fails to stop the gangsters from getting to him, so he helps the FBI nail the heroin wholesalers, at first unwillingly. There are creases which director Dwight H. Little should have ironed out: the film seems to peak midway, and the inevitable love interest is handled crudely, but the screenplay is intelligently written and leavened with humour - so much so, in fact, that this could stand up with or without martial arts scenes. Thumping good fun.