Bruce Lee, my brother

One of modern Hong Kong's least forgivable failures is its lack of a museum, or a truly commemorative monument, to honour its most famous resident. The West Kowloon cultural complex probably won't have a museum or research centre to showcase any of the past glories of the Hong Kong film industry. Such bitter regrets were prompted by Bruce Lee, My Brother, the 2010 biopic co-produced by the kung fu star's younger brother, Robert Lee, and co-directed by Manfred Wong. Prolific actor-writer-producer Wong also wrote the screenplay, adapted (i.e. fictionalised) from the younger Lee's memoir. This was his fifth direction, the first since 1993's Da Lu (The Trail), and he shared the task with veteran Raymond Yip Wai-man.

For a little more than two hours, the film's finely photographed, costumed and decorated series of tableaux outline the early life in Hong Kong of Hollywood's first and foremost kung fu actor. It's a pretty movie that's rarely entrancing. At times too slow and reverential, the biopic feels akin to a historical slide show.

Much can be learnt about family members and traditions in the 30-strong household of Lee's hard-working father, a Cantonese opera star, from 1941 until Bruce was shipped off to the USA, his birthplace, to save him from Hong Kong police charges and gangster revenge. Key events and moments in Lee's childhood and teens are covered, in a valiant but stilted and far from revelatory effort to sketch the background of his personality and martial artistry. Bruce is presented rather than impersonated by a young actor with similar looks: singer-actor Aarif Lee (nee Rahman, his father having Malay-Arab-Chinese ancestry). After completing university in London in 2009, he returned to Hong Kong and co-starred in the award-winning Echoes of the Rainbow.

The end credits are worth watching for their juxta-positioning of historical family photos and the film's reconstructions. One far-fetched school story proves to be true: Bruce did win a cha-cha competition, choosing his young brother as his dance partner. In the movie, that's explained as the result of Bruce avoiding having to choose between a childhood tomboy who loved him and the girlfriend (Jennifer Tse, daughter of stars and sister of Nicholas) of his new best friend (well played by Zhang Yishan).

Both girls may be fictional characters, but brother Robert's voice-over notes that the male friend's drugs-related death in the 1960s affected Bruce deeply. In the movie, the friend's addiction is the result of his girlfriend's liking for Bruce, leading to an almost comic showdown with gangsters and the screenplay's recurrent evil limping character across four levels of multi-block scaffolding and boards.

Other homages to or quotations from classic kung fu movies include Western-style boxing and kung fu fighting matches with a Caucasian student (the supposed son of an English policeman has a North American accent). There are standard scenes of unpleasant Japanese and British administration of Hong Kong, conducted by the local villain (who ends up killed by the drug addict, as might be expected in such formulaic scenarios).

Many of the period details were interesting, particularly the captioned recreations of Hong Kong movies the young Bruce appeared in or might well have watched from the studios' rafters. However, too many artfully-lit close-ups of the Bruce-loving girls were tiring, while the banter of Bruce and his schoolfriends (one of whom was depicted as the stereotypically comic, fattish son of a household cook) and Bruce with his sisters also stretched credibility.

Tony Leung Ka-fai was effective as Lee Sr, and the first half-hour of the movie is his story. After that, he rarely appears (as in the reality of opera seasons, it can be assumed) and the film fails to illustrate Bruce's teenage relationship with him and his mother (whose family richness and English-speaking ability is not explained), played somewhat mysteriously by Christy Chung.

Born in San Francisco while his father was performing there, Bruce was sent back to the USA. His American wife and her family estate owns that part of his biography (until his death at 32), as an introductory statement indicates. The full Bruce Lee story waits to be told, and his family home and memorabilia still await long-deserved commemoration and display.