“World of Desire” Theatrical Poster

Director: Chao Chen-Kuo
Cast: Robert Mak, William Ho, Blackie Ko, Shou-Liang, Norman Tsui Siu-Keung, Chiang Ta-Chuan, Suen Man, Chen Kuan-Tai, Ng Naam-Yiu, Xie Jian-Wen
Running Time: 74 min.

By Paul Taggart

In these days of boutique labels releasing Asian cinema hits and relative obscurities, there are still those who swim in murky waters where even Godfrey Ho fans wouldn’t swim. It’s a strange place, full of bottomless pits of crappiness, tonal whiplash, fountains of sleaze, geysers of violence and the detritus of cinema. It is the land of the Taiwan exploitation film. Usually rougher round the edges than even the similar Hong Kong movies, but just as worth checking out. Perhaps the best known Taiwan 90s entries into this type would be the gangster squib sleaze sagas of Hunting List or Requital. But they are the peak, and something like World of Desire is far from those lofty heights and lies broken and twisted at the bottom, mumbling to itself incoherently.

You would think World of Desire is a cheapie 74-minute soft-score film from its poster and title, but it’s actually a cheapie gangster film with nudie bits. The plot is pretty basic, concerning three night club hostesses and a hoodlum who end up on the run from a gang after an incident at a hotel involving an old man, one of the women and a pistol. Various shenanigans ensure for the rest of the run-time mostly set around a night club the quartet end up running whilst trying to evade the local mobsters gunning for them.

But what’s so bizarre about World of Desire is it’s cast – William Ho you’d expect in something like this, it was his bread and butter – but not cameos from Blackie Ko, Chen Kuan Tai and Norman Tsui. Norman looks rather dishevelled whenever he appears on screen and it’s rather off-putting to see him squeeze some poor woman’s arse for 40 seconds, but kind of funny at the same time. Thankfully the viewer is spared any extended sex scene with Norman, but he sure makes the most of his bottom fondling opportunity and there’s a shot of him lying on a bed where he seems rather too excited under a towel he is wearing. The rest of the guys mostly escape with their dignity intact.

The lead is Robert Mak who is rather bland but appears in a lot of gangster orientated Taiwan films of this era and in more than one he always seems to end up wearing a black vest for some reason. World of Desire spends a lot of time trying to convince that Bob is Mr. Sex, but he’s more Barnaby Jones than Tom Jones. The actresses aren’t memorable at all, and sadly due to their lack of any characterisation. I had time telling them apart as they mostly appear on screen all together, like a female three stooges but lacking any comedic timing.

World of Desire’s lack of budget is evident, near enough the whole film takes place in garish nightclubs, musty pubs or messy living rooms with far too many shots of mahjong players. At one point William Ho and his gang have a meeting in what looks to be a cramped karaoke booth, diminishing any menace the scene is supposed to portray. The soundtrack seems comprised by wonky keyboard demos, one of which is an annoying machine gun funk synth tune. It’s still kind of fun though, the action is shoddy but there’s plenty of it scattered throughout and the exploitation content is pretty high, heavy on the nasty repetitive lady slapping and one of the women is randomly forced to drink wine out of a shoe at gunpoint. Nudity is ample but kept to brief moments, despite the lurid title, the focus is indeed as a low-rent gangster film, one that wishes to make you believe a household metal bin can be used to deflect machine gun fire.

It’s entertaining crap but William Ho exits too early and leaves a large hole in the film’s collective charisma which it stumbles on past due to it’s relative shortness. Not really one for anyone except lovers of trash, World of Desire is a scuzzy curiosity.

Paul Taggart’s Rating: 4/10

The post World of Desire (1992) Review first appeared on cityonfire.com.

“The Magic Crane” Theatrical Poster

Director: Benny Chan
Cast: Tony Leung Chiu-Wai, Anita Mui Yim-Fong, Rosamund Kwan Chi-Lam, Damian Lau Chung-Yan, Lawrence Ng Kai-Wah, Norman Tsui Siu-Keung, Zhang Tielin
Running Time: 96 min.

By Paul Bramhall

In 2017 the late director Benny Chan unleashed Meow onto the world, the tale of Louis Koo and an oversized ginger cat from space, a production which had much of the action maestro’s fanbase scratching their heads as to what exactly was going on. For long-time fans of Chan though, as tough as it is to admit, Meow wasn’t the first time for the director to dabble in the world of oversized animals. Admittedly you have to go back almost 30 years, however the fact remains that in 1993 the world was gifted with The Magic Crane, which saw Hong Kong icon Anita Mui flying around on the back of a, well, gigantic crane.

After his debut co-directing 1988’s Let’s Rage the Gangland with Chik Kin-Chung, Chan dabbled in various genres during the first 5 years of his directorial career, but all shared a contemporary setting. The Magic Crane would be the first and last time he’d helm a new wave wuxia flick, and he did so working from a script written by Tsui Hark, who also sat in the producer’s chair. If any one man was responsible for igniting the new wave wuxia genre then it was arguably Hark, and by 1993 it felt like he’d penned so many movies that he realised he’d never be able to direct them all himself. So while he did helm Once Upon a Time in China III and Green Snake, for the rest of the year he let other directors take the reins, and took a step back as producer.

Yuen Bun got to make his directorial debut with Once Upon a Time in China IV, Raymond Lee and Ching Siu-Tung shared directing duties on The East is Red, Yuen Woo-Ping took on Iron Monkey, and it was Chan who’d be trusted to bring The Magic Crane to the screen. Surprisingly, the titular crane in question isn’t actually all that important to the plot. It’s kind of like if Moon Warriors from the previous year was called Killer Whale instead, although at least in that movie the whale was real. Here the oversized crane relies on a mix of miniature puppetry for shots of it flying in the distance, and for its close-up appearances we get a slightly clunky but impressively to scale mechanical model.

Like most wuxia’s based on novels (this one is based on one by Wolong Sheng), the plot is a convoluted affair with a plethora of characters. Essentially it involves the equivalent of a martial arts business conference, with 9 schools meeting up to agree on the dividing up of territory, and hopefully live in peace. Tensions are running high though, with mistrust between certain factions, and an aggressively ambitious master played by Lawrence Ng (To Be Number One, Lethal Panther) keen on taking over more territory than what he came in with. Tony Leung Chiu-Wai (Hard Boiled, Europe Raiders) plays the only student of the most pitiful school, and it’s when he accidentally falls off a cliff that he finds himself rescued from certain death by the giant crane.

From there, the plot throws itself around like a pinball table in heat. Anita Mui (Rouge, A Better Tomorrow III) rides around on the crane with a flute, and has to deal with her vengeance seeking sister who she never knew she had, played by a lute brandishing Rosamund Kwan (The Head Hunter, Undeclared War). The different martial arts schools end up at each other’s necks through a series of both comedic misunderstandings and straight-faced double crossing. One of the masters played by Zhang Tie-Lin (Once Upon a time in China II and V) is forced to eat half of a secret scroll and accidentally turns into a superpowered madman that wants to kill everyone. There’s a kaiju sized tortoise that has its gall bladder ripped out (comparatively Gamera had very little to worry about!). Oh, and rubber bats, lots of them.

If you’re looking for coherent plot structure and clearly defined motivations, then The Magic Crane probably isn’t the movie for you. On the other hand if you’re looking for the typically manic paced energy that so many of the new wave wuxia’s of the early 90’s were imbued with, then you’re definitely in luck. Many of these movies can be split into 2 categories – those that cast legitimate martial artists in the lead roles, and those that didn’t. While Swordsman 2 and Butterfly & Sword benefitted from casts that included the likes of Jet Li and Donnie Yen, others like Three Swordsmen and The Dragon Chronicles: The Maidens of Heavenly Mountain relied on the presence of popular actors of the era like Andy Lau and Brigitte Lin. Thankfully the wirework heavy nature of the new wave wuxia genre didn’t necessarily call for martial arts expertise, however there can be do doubt that their physical talents certainly helped.

The Magic Crane falls into the latter category with no real martial arts talent so to speak, however choreographer Lau Chi-Ho (Duel to the Death, A Chinese Ghost Story II) makes up for it by going big on the spectacle front. The faceoff between the giant crane and tortoise is probably the closest a Hong Kong production has gotten to a kaiju showdown, and sets get blown up with gleeful abandon once everyone starts to take flight (which is frequently!). Having Tsui Hark in the producer’s chair seems to have allowed for a sizable budget, and it’s used to create some memorable imagery. In one scene Anita Mui and Rosamund Kwan face off on the deck of a ship, while the ocean that surrounds them explodes in geysers of towering water, an epic shot that acts as a reminder of the power of practical effects.

Compensating for the lack of martial arts prowess, both Anita Mui and Rosamund Kwan rely on the deadly musical instruments that they carry with them to attack their enemies (and each other), with Mui opting for a flute, and Kwan brandishing a lute (pre-dating the deadly lute in the following years Deadful Melody). The wirework doesn’t quite reach the heights of what we were seeing from Ching Siu-Tung and Yuen Bun at the time, however the sheer volume of it makes it difficult to not be entertained, and you know things aren’t afraid to get crazy when at one point the actual flute and lute fight each other in the air.

The final battle in particular is a hoot, as the ladies, Tony Leung Chiu-Wai, Norman Chu (playing the father of Anita Mui and Rosamund Kwan), Damian Lau (playing Tony Leung’s master), and the crane all come together to fight Zhang Tie-Lin, who’s come to the party brandishing a massive metal bell the same size as he is. The ensuing battle is an entertaining mix of high-flying energy blasts and wonton destruction, including the crane taking a somewhat kamikaze approach to its contribution in defeating the enemy. If you thought the flute action in American Pie was a unique use of the instrument, I challenge anyone to watch The Magic Crane and not be impressed by how Tie-Lin is ultimately disposed of. Definitely a classic example of “things you can only see in a Hong Kong new wave wuxia flick” (right after Donnie Yen being reduced to half a skeleton in Dragon Inn!).

By the end of the 90’s Benny Chan had established himself as a successful commercial director of contemporary action flicks thanks to the likes of Big Bullet, Who Am I? and Gen-X Cops, so if anything The Magic Crane is a rare opportunity to see him apply his craft to the wuxia genre. While there’s not much on display to separate it from the rest of its energetically paced peers of the era (well, ok it’s the only one with a giant crane), there’s still plenty to enjoy, and the action comes thick and fast. Plus, kudos goes to Rosamund Kwan for the way she breaks up with Tony Leung after they’ve slept together, telling him not to worry because “What you’ve left inside my body’d be squeezed out by my Kung fu!” Brutal.

An entertaining genre effort and the only time Anita Mui got to headline a wuxia flick (and of course sing the theme song, which she did with Jacky Cheung), for fans of both new wave wuxia’s and the impressive cast, The Magic Crane is worth a watch.

Paul Bramhall’s Rating: 6/10

The post Magic Crane, The (1993) Review first appeared on cityonfire.com.

“The Sword” Theatrical Poster

Director: Patrick Tam Kar-Ming
Cast: Adam Cheng Siu Chow, Norman Chui Siu-keung, Jade Hsu, Tien Feng, JoJo Chan Kei-Kei, Bonnie Ngai, Eddy Ko Hung, Lau Siu-Ming, Lee Hoi-Sang
Running Time: 86 min.

By Paul Bramhall

In the early 80’s Hong Kong cinema was experiencing what’s come to be labelled the new wave, as a fresh generation of young directors came to the fore. Movies like Tsui Hark’s Dangerous Encounter of the First Kind (1980), Alex Cheung’s Man on the Brink (1981), and Kirk Wong’s The Club (1981) presented a more realistic, gritty approach to the kind of stories they wanted to tell, usually grounded in the day-to-day reality of Hong Kong. Another new wave director who would debut in 1980 was Patrick Tam, and while The Sword eschews the contemporary streets of Hong Kong for a period wuxia setting, the spirit of the new wave is one that can be felt throughout, making for a unique entry in the genre.

Much like Tsui Hark would come to deconstruct the wuxia genre 15 years later with The Blade, in The Sword Tam takes a well-worn story, but frames it through a distinctly different lens than what we’d see had it been produced by the Shaw Brothers studio. Indeed in many ways The Sword feels like a more modernised version of Hua Shan’s Soul of the Sword from a couple of years prior, which was from the Shaw Brothers studio, and featured Ti Lung as a nameless swordsman obsessed with becoming the best regardless of the cost. Here Tam shows he’s unafraid to lean back on the previous decade by casting Adam Cheng as a roving swordsman with similar ambitions, however the tone feels a world apart from the stoic demeanour of Soul of the Sword.

Cheng was already a veteran of almost 40 productions when he took the lead in Tam’s debut, having been acting since the mid-60’s, however it was his roles in TV productions like 1976’s Book and Sword and 1979’s Heavenly Sword and Dragon Sabre that popularised his image as a romantic swordsman. While Cheng gives a suitably confident performance as the self-assured swordsman who we initially meet, the focus on the relationships with the characters around him gives The Sword a distinctly more humanistic and intimate feel than most wuxia’s of the era. Tam puts the characters at the heart of the story over the familiar plot and the expected action, and it’s this aspect which gives the narrative a revisionist slant, not so much creating something new, but rather looking at something familiar from a previously unseen angle.

The futility of being obsessed with being number one is felt throughout, and from the opening scene there’s an air of impending doom that never feels far away. Cheng is on a mission to seek out another famous swordsman who hasn’t been seen for years to ask for a duel, and in one particularly memorable scene receives a tipoff that the man he seeks may be residing in a remote dwelling up in the mountains. However when Cheng gets there he’s greeted by a dishevelled caretaker (played by Lau Siu-Ming), who explains he’s been waiting 12 years expecting the famous swordsman Cheng also seeks to return, quickly convincing himself that Cheng is the one he’s been waiting for all this time. Forced to fight out of disillusionment, the pointless death that the scene ends in sets the tone for what’s to come, as the tropes of fate and coincidence push Cheng further towards his goal.

After rescuing a feisty and seemingly carefree lady (Jade Hsu – Once Upon a Rainbow) from an assassin (a brief but entertaining role for Lee Hoi-Sang, who’d show up in The Young Master and Tower of Death during the same year), she and Cheng stop at an inn for the night to recover. It’s while there that Cheng’s long-lost love also turns up (played by JoJo Chan – Magnificent Butcher), who’s accompanied by her sword collecting husband (Norman Tsui – Sword Master) and his mute bodyguard (Eddy Ko Hung – The Postman Strikes Back). The intertwining relationships between the characters hint at a love triangle forming between Cheng, Hsu, and Chan, who’s marriage to Tsui appears to be one under duress, and matters are complicated further when it’s revealed that Hsu is the daughter of the famous swordsman that Cheng is seeking.

Overlapping desires, an unwillingness to put aside one’s pride, and growing jealousy all culminate in a number of violent confrontations, helmed by fight choreographers Tang Tak-Cheung and Tony Ching Siu-Tung. Both respected directors in their own right, while Tak-Cheung would helm a pair of the best latter day Shaw Brothers entries in the form of Demon of the Lute (1983) and Long Road to Gallantry (1984), it would be Siu-Tung who’d leave an indelible stamp on Hong Kong action cinema with his elaborate wirework fuelled wuxia’s. Making his directorial debut in 1983 with Duel to the Death, Siu-Tung would later direct the likes of the A Chinese Ghost Story trilogy, the Swordsman trilogy, and Wonder Seven, each time also having a hand in the action.

The Sword would be the only time for Tak-Cheung and Siu-Tung to collaborate together on action duty, and director Tam utilises each fight to propel the narrative forward, with violence often breaking out suddenly. A unique blend of old school meets new school, while the sword action itself may not be as intricately staged as we’d see a decade later, there’s a dynamism to the editing and camera angles used which makes them feel fresh. There are elements on display that feel like a precursor to what Siu-Tung would further develop in his own Duel to the Death, the first production to begin embracing the bombastic action that wirework could create. While here wirework is present it feels minimal, opting for quality over quantity that gives it added impact when used, that is until Tak-Cheung and Siu Tung’s creativity is fully unleashed in the final fight, ending on a finishing move special effect that would surely make Chang Cheh proud.

However Tam’s auteur touch is never far away, meaning the action never overshadows his input, with the most shocking moment of violence actually being a single slap that Norman Tsui delivers to JoJo Chan, filmed in such a way that the audience fully feel the pain that comes as a result of it. Somewhat regrettably Tam would only direct another 6 movies in the 1980’s, concluding with the classic My Heart is that Eternal Rose in 1989, before he’d stick with being an editor for most of the 90’s and 2000’s. His directorial comeback in 2006 with After This Our Exile proved he hadn’t missed a beat not sitting in the director’s chair for 17 years, and most recently he contributed to the Hong Kong omnibus production Septet – The Story of Hong Kong.

The occasionally pulsating synthesiser soundtrack by Joseph Koo further adds to the feel of The Sword being a production that has one foot in the past, but the other more firmly planted in the future, and one thing that can’t be argued is that it’s never felt so lonely to be a swordsman as it does here. Tam imbues practically every frame with a sense of longing, one that could so easily be satisfied if the characters were willing to free themselves from the codes they believe they have to live by. While the narrative presents the titular sword as being responsible for the tragedy and violence that follow its owner around, there’s a distinct feeling that Tam is presenting it as a metaphor for human ambition, and the consequences that can stem from it when it goes unchecked.

It’s no secret that I’m a big fan of when a director not usually known for helming martial arts themed movies decides to tackle the genre, as the results are almost always compelling (just don’t mention Fruit Chan’s Invincible Dragon), and Tam here has created a wuxia that feels ahead of its time by at least a decade. Equal parts darkly pessimistic and hopelessly romantic, The Sword saw the wuxia genre at the top of its game as a new decade and era of filmmaking for Hong Kong cinema was ushered in.

Paul Bramhall’s Rating: 9/10

The post The Sword (1980) Review first appeared on cityonfire.com.

“Code of the Assassins” Theatrical Poster

AKA: Song of the Assassins
Director: Daniel Lee Yan-Kong
Cast: William Feng Shaofeng, Gina Jin Chen, Zhang Hao, Hu Jun, Summer Xu Qing, Wang Qing-Xiang, Kenneth Tsang, Ray Lui, Norman Tsui, Jack Kao Kuo-Hsin
Running Time: 119 min. 

By Paul Bramhall

After a long and arduous journey, in 2022 Code of the Assassins finally made it to the screen. Filming started way back in 2017 with grand plans to include an accompanying drama series and multiple sequels proposed, however various strife inside production company Le Vision Pictures resulted in its release being delayed, confounded further by the CEO passing away in early 2021. The original plans for a theatrical release were ultimately canned, and in the end it debuted to minimum fanfare in the overcrowded VOD market 5 years after cameras started to roll. 

Director Daniel Lee likely needs no introduction to fans of Hong Kong cinema, having remained one of the most divisive talents since his debut with 1994’s What Price Survival, a re-imagining of The One Armed Swordsman. His preference for highly stylised MTV influenced editing often sees him accused of style over substance, and he’s hardly the strongest storyteller when it comes to an engaging narrative, however his name rightly comes up in any discussion on Hong Kong action cinema. Including Code of the Assassins Lee’s sat in the director’s chair a total of 14 times, and I can at least say I’m a fan of his sophomore feature Black Mask from 1996 (which admittedly had the benefit of Tsui Hark producing and Yuen Woo-Ping on choreography duty) and his 2010 wuxia 14 Blades (which, like his debut, was also a reimagining of a Shaw Brothers movie, this time Secret Service of the Imperial Court being the title in question).

In short, Lee is at his best when he’s given a straightforward story where he can let his visual flourishes run wild, and have the audience go along for the ride. Give him something more substantial, as we saw with his historical battle epics like 2008’s Three Kingdoms: Resurrection of the Dragon and 2011’s White Vengeance, and he’s on less steady ground. With a complex plot and conflicted characters to handle, Lee’s lesser regarded trademarks include relying on endless exposition dumps, and helming complicated character relationships with all the subtlety of a Nicolas Cage meltdown. Following the swords ‘n’ sandals clanger Dragon Blade in 2015, and the disastrous 2016 time travel flick Time Raiders, Code of the Assassins has a lot riding on it (it’s worth noting that a movie he completed after Code of the Assassins was actually released before it, with the mountain rescue flick The Climbers hitting screens in 2019).

The plot involves an assassin played by William Feng (Painted Skin: The Resurrection, Young Detective Dee: Rise of the Sea Dragon), whose family was wiped out and arm chopped off (although thankfully this isn’t Lee’s 2^nd take on The One Armed Swordsman!) many years ago over a mysterious copper treasure map. Now decked out with a mechanical arm which is one part Ash from Army of Darkness, one part Inspector Gadget, when the map resurfaces Feng makes it his mission to retrieve what he believes to be rightfully his, but fails when caught off guard by a group of “western warriors” (not an American basketball team, despite how the name sounds). Forced to go on the run both from his own clan and a whole slew of others who are also after the map, Feng becomes a fugitive, while at the same time trying to uncover the conspiracy that’s been ongoing for years since the map was originally stolen. 

Based on a popular novel by Yuan Taiji, the story is relatively straight forward, however onscreen it clearly could have benefitted from cutting down on a few plot threads. Lee crams the narrative with characters and poorly handled romantic subplots, so much so that you’d think he’s directing one of novelist Gu Long’s sprawling wuxia epics. While a director like Chor Yuen was always up to the task of translating such complex wuxia tales for the screen (and often into 90 minutes!), Lee’s distinctive style here frequently works against him. Characters are introduced onscreen in their own 3 second music video style cutaways, usually set to a throbbing electric guitar or synth, creating a bombardment of onscreen names which mean little to the viewer, and often serve little narrative purpose even after they’ve been introduced. 

On the plus side a supporting cast full of veteran kung-fu and Hong Kong cinema heavyweights serve their purpose to add some levity to proceedings. Code of the Assassins would be the final performance of Kenneth Tsang (A Better Tomorrow, The Killer), who sadly passed before its release, while the likes of Norman Tsui (Duel to the Death, The Loot), Du Yu-Ming (Slaughter in Xian, Journey to the West), and Yuen Cheung-Yan (Shaolin Drunkard, A Heroic Fight) all turn up as clan members after the map.

The action is perhaps the most interesting aspect of Code of the Assassins. Helmed by Han Guanhua, who was responsible for the action in the likes of Animal World and Europe Raiders, together with Lee there’s a distinctive steampunk aesthetic that’s utilised with varying results. The visuals go a little overboard with the CGI cutaways that show the inner workings of Feng’s mechanical arm every time he’s about to use it, as the novelty quickly wears thin of watching a bunch of CGI nuts-and-bolts whir to life. The arm includes everything from a detachable hand on a chain, razor sharp claws, an inbuilt expandable sword, projectile ball bearings, and probably more. He’ll need it though since his opponents come armed with everything from an equally loaded umbrella, to razor sharp wings that look like something straight out of a Marvel movie.

Speaking of Marvel, Lee takes a few liberties that are clearly influenced by the superhero franchise, the most obvious one being that whenever Feng is wearing his assassin mask, we get Iron Man-esque shots of his face inside the mask during the battle scenes (and just wait until you see the way he takes it off). While heavily dependent on CGI, the action scenes are entertaining, and its great to see the likes of Norman Tsui (even if it’s his double) busting out the moves. Lee seems to want to pair the steampunk visuals with a modern soundtrack which doesn’t quite work, often making some of the more exaggerated action feel like video game cut scenes, and a few of the costumes look just modern enough to take you out of the story. In particular, I could have sworn in some scenes that Feng is strutting around with a North Face winter jacket that’s hanging up in my wardrobe.

Outside of the action though the pacing is a laborious slog. Shots of Feng brooding on a variety of rooftops look like they belong in a green tea commercial, and the attempts to form a romance between his character and a mysterious woman played by Gina Jin Chen (Ghost Leader, Forever Love) are laughable, not least because of their lack of chemistry or emotion. Comparatively, later one character’s tear-filled outburst over the death of a loved one is so out of the blue that it elicits laughter for showing too much emotion. Code of Assassins biggest problem though is the one that plagues so many of Lee’s productions, in that whenever it wants to advance the plot it becomes needlessly wordy. Once everything is out in the open, rather than relying on the audience to get it, we have Feng deliver a painfully long monologue that explains the whole plot in far too much detail.

Even once the final action scene reaches its conclusion, we still get one more duplicitous character twist that arrives in the form of a needlessly protracted speech, ensuring that any momentum before the end credits roll is killed dead in its tracks, closing things off with a yawn rather than a bang. All of this would likely be a lot more forgivable if the runtime wasn’t a hefty 2 hours, which makes the time there isn’t any action onscreen feel increasingly more insufferable as the narrative ploughs forward. Code of the Assassins was said to be a passion project for Daniel Lee, it’s just a shame that the best chance it had of being a good movie would have been for him to vacate the director’s chair to someone else. Unfortunately, he didn’t.  

Paul Bramhall’s Rating: 5.5/10

The post Code of the Assassins (2022) Review first appeared on cityonfire.com.

“Jade Dynasty” Theatrical Poster

Director: Ching Siu-Tung
Cast: Sean Xiao, Li Qin, Meng Mei Qi, Tina Tang, Qiu Xin Zhi, Cecilia Yip, John Chiang, Norman Tsui, Leung Kar-Yan, Hung Yan-Yan, Bao Xiaosong, Chen Liwei, Li Shen
Running Time: 101 min. 

By Paul Bramhall

The hyper-kinetic action and billowing silk of the early 90’s new wave wuxia genre may be a long time ago, but one of the directors whose name is indelibly linked with it is thankfully still around – Ching Siu-Tung. Siu-Tung’s distinctive choreography style of the era, defined by its bombastic wife-fu infused set pieces, can be found in the likes of New Dragon Inn, Holy Weapon, and Butterfly and Sword, as well as in the movies he sat in the director’s chair for himself, such as the Swordsman and Chinese Ghost Story trilogies. That era of Hong Kong cinema may be gone, however I confess that when Siu-Tung’s name is attached to a movie, I still get excited about it.

Admittedly as a director the post-millennium world hasn’t exactly been full of highlights. After the riotously fun Conman in Tokyo in 2000, the guilty pleasure (at least for me) of 2002’s Naked Weapon, and the 2003 Steven Seagal vehicle Belly of the Beast, it’d be another 5 years before he directed again. When he returned, it was to make An Empress and the Warriors, the movie that many consider to be the first blip in Donnie Yen’s filmography after his resurgence in 2005 following Sha Po Lang. Not content with staining Yen’s filmography, in 2011 Siu-Tung directed Jet Li in The Sorcerer and the White Snake. In an era that was defined by how many ugly looking CGI fantasy spectacles were being churned out by Mainland China, The Sorcerer and the White Snake is often considered to be the ugliest.

Siu-Tung’s foray into CGI spectacle was an expensive failure, and it would take him 8 years before he’d step into the role of director again, helming the 2019 wuxia adaptation Jade Dynasty. It’s always a concern when a director hasn’t worked for so long that rust may have set in, and while Siu-Tung usually keeps himself busy as an action choreographer when he’s not directing, with the exception of the critically mauled 2013 Bollywood sequel Krrish 3, this time he’s been out of the spotlight all together. So the burning question is, will his return to the familiar world of wuxia be one which sets him up for success?

Jade Dynasty is based on an eight-part novel series by author Xiao Ding, and as with so many wuxia novels, this isn’t the first time for it to be adapted for the screen. In fairness, it is for the first time for the big screen, but the honours for the debut adaptation go to The Legend of Chusen, a TV series that was shown across 2 seasons in 2016 and 2017 (currently a 3rd season is on the way). Lucky for us Jade Dynasty itself is planned as a franchise (the Chinese title includes the number 1, indicating the same), and while it’s not unheard of for HK filmmakers to cram in several novels worth of story into one movie with brain melting results (check out The Dragon Chronicles: The Maidens of Heavenly Mountain), the plot for the 100 minutes presented here is at least comprehendible.

The leader of Chinese boyband X Nine, Sean Xiao, plays an orphan who was adopted by a martial arts sect 10 years ago. His parents, along with the rest of the rural village he lived in, where killed by an unknown force, and for the past decade he’s supposedly been learning martial arts, while in reality he’s little more than the sects resident cook. With a kung fu tournament on the horizon, there’s little hope for Xiao, however things quickly change when a mysterious bead he was betrothed with several years ago is activated by his blood (thanks to being bitten by a mischievous monkey – seriously). The bead ends up transforming into the ‘soul chasing stick’, a powerful weapon that can only be used by the person whose blood activated it. It also comes with a mind of its own, and results in Xiao cleaning up in the kung fu tournament, however its resurgence also draws the attention of the Demon King, who wants the stick for his own evil purposes.

While the above sounds like all the ingredients for a classic wuxia tale are there, onscreen much more focus seems to be on the various women who enter Xiao’s life. Xiao is secretly in love with the sect leader’s daughter, played with a borderline annoying cuteness by Yixin Yang (The Golden Era), however she may be in love with someone else. Xiao repeatedly finds himself in the crosshairs of Qin Li (Young Detective Dee: Rise of the Sea Dragon), the leader of another sect who puts on a tough exterior, but as Xiao tells her under the moonlight in one scene is “just a front”. Meanwhile, the daughter of the Demon King, played by Meiqi Meng (a member of the K-pop/M-pop group Cosmic Girls – yes it’s that kind of movie), plans to get close to Xiao in order to retrieve the soul chasing stick for her father, but instead she finds herself falling for him. With enough unrequited love to fill a whole season of The Bold and the Beautiful, how will it all end?

With the acting on display, it’s difficult to care. Xiao spends most of the runtime wide eyed and naïve, a performance which rightfully earned him the Most Disappointing Actor Award at the 2019 Golden Broom Awards, which are the Chinese equivalent of Hollywood’s Razzies. Most of the young cast don’t fare any better, their inadequacies highlighted further by the veteran cast who play the leaders of the various martial arts sects. Jade Dynasty at least gives us the opportunity to enjoy David Chiang, Leung Kar Yan, Norman Tsui, Hung Yan-Yan, and Cecilia Yip sharing the screen together, and in their brief scenes where they’re not drowned out by special effects, they have good chemistry.

The action itself is underwhelming. I don’t mind CGI enhanced action in productions such as this (League of Gods and Double World both do it right), however it needs to be a balance between the effects and the performers, and it’s clear that nobody here is a martial artist. Wire work is mostly restricted to the ‘one straight leg, one slightly bent, arm outstretched with a sword’ variety, with very few actual exchanges taking place, and slow motion is gratuitously overused to the point of boredom. There’s none of that kinetic energy of the early 90’s new wave flicks to be found here. Proceedings look like they’ll brighten up with the arrival of the Demon King’s four lackeys – a double-sword wielding boar, a guy who has bladed shields attached to his feet, an invisible figure able to suck opponents into its body, and an old hooded puppeteer who wheels around a creepy looking doll in a cart.

The puppeteer is the highlight, able to make the doll come to life, and separate its limbs to attack and take control of any opponents corresponding appendages while the head chomps away on the victim’s neck. With each limb attached to red rope, the creativity behind the puppeteer harks back to the type seen in Siu-Tung’s directorial debut Duel to the Death in 1983, but it’s short lived. Outside of their introductory scene the quartet don’t get a whole lot to do, and are quickly dispatched in an unimpressive onslaught of CGI energy beams. In fact the whole finale feels like a re-enactment of a Marvel epic destruction style ending, with special effects being the order of the day, which extends to the billowing silk. As recently as 2004’s House of Flying Daggers it wasn’t necessary to create flowing sleeves (and it’s a wuxia movie, so they’re usually deadly!) with CGI, but apparently now even clothing needs to be created with pixels.

While I’m in no way averse to CGI in cinema, it should never overwhelm the narrative or be a lazy fix for stuff that can be done practically, and here there’s too many times when it feels like CGI for CGI’s sake. Combined with a young cast who lack any charisma, chemistry, or action chops, in the end the whole thing feels remarkably shallow and it’s difficult to ascertain exactly what’s at stake. With a finale that abruptly decides to bombard the audience with a tragic twist, all too obviously setting the scene for the sequel, the bombastic nature of it all feels at best unwarranted and at worst laughable. Some may feel it’s both. At the center of everything is supposedly the soul chasing stick, but if you were to point it in the direction of Jade Dynasty, I doubt it’d be able to find any.

Paul Bramhall’s Rating: 5/10

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LZtZEo4ODYQ

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“The Dragon Chronicles” DVD Cover

Director: Andy Chin
Producer: Jimmy Heung
Cast: Brigitte Lin, Gong Li, Sharla Cheung, Frankie Lam, Norman Chu, Ku Tin-yi, Liu Kai-chi
Running Time: 97 min.

By Paul Bramhall

Convoluted plots, a dizzying cast of characters, and breakneck pacing are all some of the defining characteristics of many a wuxia movie. From the Chor Yuen directed Gu Long adaptations during the 70’s Shaw Brothers heyday, through to the wire-filled extravaganzas of the early 90’s new wave, as a viewer unacquainted with the source material (if indeed there was any) such productions where often a test of mental agility for western audiences. Despite all of these factors though, I have a soft spot for wuxia flicks. They have an undefinable coolness to them, whether it be watching a poncho adorned Ti Lung slicing through opponents with a twirling blade, or Jet Li fending off multiple projectile swords whilst gliding through the air, there’s a poetic quality that transcends the boundaries of the standard kung fu flick.

Most importantly of all though, no matter how complex the plot gets, generally I find myself able to follow along enough to know what’s going down. Rival clans, dominance of the martial arts world, mystical weapons, and forbidden love – stick them all in a blender, and even if the portions are different every time, you’ll end up with some semblance of what to expect from a wuxia flick. Which brings me to The Dragon Chronicles: The Maidens of Heavenly Mountain. I provided this background partly as a pre-emptive excuse, partly as a cry for help, as in my 20 years of watching these movies, this 1994 slice of wuxia madness is the first time I honestly found myself having no clue as to what on earth was going on.

Less than 5 minutes in I was at a loss, and 85 minutes later things hadn’t improved. From an incomprehensibly complicated spiel that kicks things off via voice over, through to the moment the end credits appeared onscreen, the last time I felt this confused involved downing a few beers before entering an escape room. I suspect most of the blame lays with Charcoal Tan – not the name of the latest shade of fake tan – but the man behind the script, which I use in the loosest possible way. TDC:TMOHM (as I’ll refer to it from here on in) is based on the famous wuxia novel Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils by Jin Yong. You’ve probably guessed already, but to enjoy TDC:TMOHM as a coherent experience makes pre-reading the novel a must, preferably several times over followed by the CliffsNotes companion piece.

The novel has been adapted into a TV series more times than you can shake a stick at (including one being screened at the time of writing), however squeezing such a sprawling storyline into a single 90 minute movie is a daunting task. In 1982 director Siu Sang attempted to do so under the same title, which notably shares a cast member of TDC:TMOHM in the form of Norman Chu, which has long since disappeared into the annals of wuxia history. It would take 12 years for another director to step up to the table, and that director came in the form of Andy Chin Wing-Keung. Almost all of Chin’s unremarkable directorial efforts fall in the 10 years spanning 1989 to 1998, with 1994 being his most prolific year. Apart from sitting in the director’s chair for TDC:TMOHM, he’d also helm the long forgotten Hong Kong flicks Victory, Crazy Women, How Deep Is Your Love, and Why Wild Girls.

After 1998’s The Lord of Hangzhou he’d drop off the map, randomly popping up 10 years later to co-direct the Donnie Yen fantasy remake of Painted Skin, before fading into obscurity again. Out of all the titles in his filmography though, it’s TDC:TMOHM that provided Chin with his most impressive cast, offering up a trio of leading ladies that would make any Hong Kong director of the era green with envy. Taiwanese starlet Brigitte Lin would round off her bevvy of early 90’s wuxia appearances here, clocking in what would become her final appearance in front of the camera. She’s joined by Gong Li, here just a year after her critically acclaimed turn in Chen Kaige’s Farewell My Concubine, and the trio is rounded off with Sharla Cheung Man, who is probably the only actress who can claim to feature in more new wave wuxia movies than Lin, even if she wasn’t always playing the star.

Having these three actresses share the screen together in a genre such as this is largely what makes TDC:TMOHM remain watchable, even during its most head scratching moments, and there’s many. At one point a guy is brought out on a tray whose body has been cut off from the shoulders down, and is being kept alive by Lin’s evil mystical powers purely to suffer through a life of misery. Imagine a wuxia version of Basket Case, and you won’t be far off. While 1994 heralded Lin’s last year onscreen, it’s easy to imagine she never changed out of her wuxia wardrobe for the entire year. In addition to TDC:TMOHM, she also appeared in Three Swordsmen, Ashes of Time, Fire Dragon, and Deadful Melody. I was going to say she must have been so busy her feet didn’t touch the ground, then realised that considering the amount of wire-work that went into these new wave wuxia flicks, actually that statement is probably true.

Lin plays dual roles, one of an evil twin and one of a good twin, albeit the good twin barely makes an appearance due to being comatose. At this point, let me an issue a warning, that yes I’m going to attempt some sort of synopsis. With Lin playing two of the pivotal three maidens, the other role goes to Gong Li, who from what I could tell was in love with the good twin. All of them are keen to gain the trust of a martial arts master whose been fatally poisoned, but refuses to kick the bucket until his killer is exposed, and he can transfer his power to someone worthy of receiving it. That person isn’t Norman Chu, who plays the power hungry leader of an evil sect, however it could be a naive Shaolin monk (Frankie Lam) that finds himself befriended by Sharla Cheung Man. She’s a part of the evil clan, but seemingly has a good heart, and somehow in the end the monk, the maidens, and Cheung Man team up to defeat Norman Chu.

I won’t spend any more time detailing the plot, as honestly, the above description could be entirely wrong. If anyone needs to clarify any details, the good news is that Charcoal Tan is still around, having most recently contributed to the scripts for the likes of League of Gods and Legend of the Naga Pearls. There’s a certain Zu: Warriors of Magic Mountain vibe to TDC:TMOHM, from the other worldly mountain setting to the presence of Brigitte Lin and Norman Chu. Like Tsui Hark’s classic, there’s also an abundance of animated effects involving laser beam shooting and colourful twirls of energy. Indeed Zu: Warriors from Magic Mountain may have been made over 10 years earlier, but the effects on display make TDC:TMOHM appear like a product of the same era.

The abundance of energy blasts, and techniques such as the Melting Stance (self-explanatory) and Shifting Stance (the ability to teleport like a ninja in a Godfrey Ho movie), are likely there due to our three leading ladies lack of martial arts training. The action is orchestrated by Poon Kin-Kwan, who frequently co-action directed with Benz Kong To-Hoi, but here marks one of the few times he’d strike out on his own (other instances include Black Cat II and Out of the Dark). It’s unremarkable stuff for those expecting the intricate wire-work infused with acrobatics and martials arts that the likes of Tony Ching Siu-Tung would come to perfect, but remains serviceable. There’s not many flicks where you can watch Gong Li and Brigitte Lin chasing each other through the air while firing off laser beams, so for that visual alone I can’t be too hard on Kin-Kwan. It kind of felt like a more beautiful version of a TIE fighter versus an X-wing battle.

Despite the simple pleasure of seeing three of Hong Kong cinemas most iconic actresses sharing the screen together, there can be no denying that TDC:TMOHM is more than anything, an unfathomable mess. Compared to the wistful glances that both Brigitte Lin and Gong Li frequently indulge in, Cheung Man’s wacky character appears to have walked straight off the set of a Stephen Chow movie (which may have been the case, she featured in Hail the Judge the same year), and any semblance of a coherent plot is nowhere to be found. TDC:TMOHM feels like it should have been spread across at least two movies, although maybe the failure to continue the previous years Kung Fu Cult Master made producers reluctant to take the risk. Whatever the case, if you’ve seen every other new wave wuxia flick out there, TDC:TMOHM may still be worth your time, just leave your brain at the door, it’s safer that way.

Paul Bramhall’s Rating: 4/10

The post Dragon Chronicles, The: The Maidens of Heavenly Mountain (1994) Review first appeared on cityonfire.com.

“Seeding of a Ghost’ Chinese Theatrical Poster

Director: Richard Yeung
Producer: Mona Fong
Cast: Norman Chu Siu Keung, Philip Ko Fei, Tin Mat, Maria Yuen Chi Wai, Wong Yung, Wai Ga Man, Hung San Nam, Pak Man Biu, Jaime Chik Mei Jan, Erik Chan Ga Kei
Running Time: 86 min.

By Martin Sandison

Beginning with 1975’s Black Magic, the legendary Shaw Brothers studio began to make horror movies which became increasingly grotesque, darkly funny and gory. Most of these centred around the practices of Chinese black magic, and Seeding of a Ghost was one of the last examples of this genre before the studio closed its doors. While a little formulaic, the film is a great example of extreme cinema that had been birthed around the world, with movies as notorious as Cannibal Holocaust pushing the boundaries of what can be seen onscreen.

The movie stars two of the greatest martial arts actors of the time, Phillip Ko Fei (Techno Warriors) and Norman Tsui Siu Keung (Sword Master). They had appeared together in two of the classics of independent kung fu cinema just previous to Seeding of a Ghost, The Loot and the Challenger. A complete change of pace for both, the film does feature a couple of fights but they are presciently in the style of the Heroic Bloodshed films that revolutionised Hong Kong cinema.

In Seeding of a Ghost, Ko is a taxi driver who runs over a master of the dark arts who tells him never to become involved in his practices or he will perish. Tsui plays a successful businessman who seduces Ko’s wife Irene (Maria Yuen Chi Wai). One night, Tsui and Irene have an argument and she runs off only to be raped by a couple of delinquents. Ko goes after the two and Tsui, but to no avail. He decides to visit the Master, who puts into action the titular seeding of a ghost ceremony…

The Blu-ray release of the movie, by 88 films in the UK, is brilliant. The film looks like it could have been made yesterday, and it’s great to see a movie as schlocky as this one be given the HD treatment. There’s some really disgusting stuff on show here: A man puking up worms, a person having sex with a corpse that has come back to life and a pregnant women’s stomach exploding. The effects are on the whole animatronic, organic and great; even a little computer effect doesn’t look dated.

The influences are plain to see; mostly body horror movies that came out around the time such as David Cronenberg’s genre defining Videodrome. The biggest influence is from my favourite horror film of all time, John Carpenter’s The Thing. While of course not on the scale of the shape-shifting aliens of that masterpiece, the ending has some great shots and is on a par in terms of gore. The roots of the genre come in the form of the ideas of Chinese black magic, which could not be shown in Mainland Chinese movies post-Mao. This gives it a distinct Hong Kong style and flavour, one that could only have come out of the former Colony. An extra on the Blu-ray is a piece by film critic Calum Waddell, which goes into this historical context in detail, is very enlightening.

Director Richard Yueng Kuen, who also directed Phillip Ko Fei in the Independent kung fu classic Duel of the 7 Tigers, had a career that began in the 1960’s and stretched in to the early 1990’s. He didn’t direct much for Shaw Brothers, but shows an aptitude for the extremes of the genre. The lighting and camerawork are of a high standard, even the animatronic corpse doesn’t look too bad. Being an exploitation movie there is also a lot of nudity and sex scenes – they’re quite racy, but not too explicit. The rape scene is drawn out and hard to watch, but the act is over in a matter of a few seconds. Ko and Tsui put in two of their best performances here, especially the former who depicts the desperation of his character superbly.

Seeding of a Ghost works so well on the level of pure shlock and gore that you would be forgiven for thinking it’s without depth; at the tailend of the Shaw Brothers filmography, the studio began to embrace these types of movies – and with others of its ilk ushered in the Category 3 film, which would eventually become more explicit a few years later in Hong Kong cinema. Highly recommended.

Martin Sandison’s Rating: 8/10

Beware of spoilers in the following clip from Seeding of a Ghost:

The post Seeding of a Ghost (1983) Review first appeared on cityonfire.com.

“Sword Master” Theatrical Poster

Director: Derek Yee
Producer: Tsui Hark
Cast: Kenny Lin Geng-Xin, Peter Ho Yun-Tung, Jiang Yi-Yan, Jiang Meng-Jie, Norman Chu, Edward Ku, Ng Yuen-Jun, Wang De-Shun, Guo Jiu-Long
Running Time: 105 min.

By Paul Bramhall

There have been a handful of Shaw Brothers re-makes over recent years. Some of them have resulted in successful reinterpretations of the source material, such as Daniel Lee’s 2010 production 14 Blades, a pulpy re-imagining of Secret Service of the Imperial Court, and Peter Chan’s Wu Xia from 2011, which took its inspiration from One Armed Swordsman. Of course others have arguably missed the mark completely, most notably Andrew Lau’s 2012 jumbled effort The Guillotines, which was based on The Flying Guillotine. However no one has been bold enough to take on one of the many Chor Yuen directed productions, usually based on writer Gu Long’s novels set in the martial arts world. No one that is, until the arrival of Sword Master.

Based on 1977’s Death Duel, the man stepping up to the daunting task of remaking such a well-known classic, is in fact the star of the original, Derek Yee. While many modern day audiences know Yee as the director behind such gritty slices of Hong Kong cinema as One Night in Mongkok, Protégé, and The Shinjuku Incident, it’s important to remember that he was also very much an active player in the Shaw Brothers studio. When director Chor Yuen went through his phase of adapting Gu Long novels from the mid-70’s to the early 80’s, Yee was a regular sight in many of them, even playing the lead in the likes of Full Moon Scimitar and Descendant of the Sun.

Sword Master marks the first time both for Yee to attempt a remake, and his first foray into the wuxia genre, however the production definitely comes with the right talents behind the camera. In the producers chair is Tsui Hark, one of the few directors in the world who’s successfully found ways to innovatively use 3D technology during action sequences. Most likely due to Hark’s involvement, the action direction is in the capable hands of Yuen Bun and Dion Lam. Bun has frequently worked with Hark in recent years during his forays into 3D action filmmaking, and you can certainly see him honing his craft when witnessing the progression of the action in the likes of the Detective Dee series, through to the likes of The Taking of Tiger Mountain. He’s one of the few choreographers from the golden era who’s found peace with modern technology, and the same can be said for Dion Lam, who also handled the action in League of Gods, from the same year.

As far as plot goes, for anyone who is even vaguely familiar with the Shaw Brothers adaptions of Gu Long’s novels, you’ll know that things tend to get convoluted very quickly, while somehow still maintaining an acceptable level of coherency. That’s also the case here, so to avoid filling up the next 5 paragraphs with a plot synopsis, I’ll try and keep it short. Events open on a snow covered bridge spanning a frozen lake, as 2 swordsman face off against each other. It’s certainly difficult to think of a more appropriate way to kick off a wuxia movie. One of the swordsman is played by Peter Ho, sporting a tattooed face which almost makes him look like a wuxia version of The Crow, and his only desire is to be the best swordsman in the land, for which he needs to defeat the legendary Third Master.

The role of the Third Master is the character that Yee played in Death Duel almost 30 years prior, and here his shoes are filled by Kenny Lin, who’s left his identity behind and seeks a life of solitude, with his own family declaring him dead. The rumours of his death quickly circulate and throw the martial arts world into disarray, with his ambitious and power craving bride-to-be, played by Jiang Yi-Yan, demanding proof of his death. Away from the chaos, Lin takes on the job of an errand boy in a brothel, and while there begins to fall for the charms of a naïve prostitute, played by Jiang Meng-Jie. However when Lin is sighted by a former adversary, he has to deal with Ho’s fame seeking swordsman, a spurned bride-to-be, and threats from multiple clans that seek to overthrow his family as the leaders of the martial arts world.

For those who have seen Peter Chan’s Wu Xia, the above may sound familiar, as that movie concerned itself with Donnie Yen’s clan member who also gives up his identity for a peaceful life. However those comparisons really only hold up on paper, with Sword Master very much being a different type of production. Indeed out of all the recent Shaw Brothers remakes, it’s arguably Yee’s effort that recaptures the atmosphere of that era of filmmaking the most. In many scenes the surroundings are created by CGI, however the look and feel is not going for realism, just like the many studio bound sets of the Shaw Brothers could never be mistaken for a real outdoor setting. Instead they create a fantastical and mythical setting, one which provides an appropriate backdrop for the lonesome swordsmen and lovelorn swordswomen to muse on their fates and the meaning of it all.

Indeed the script for Sword Master could have come straight out of a Shaw Brothers wuxia. Characters whimsically dwell on what it means to be the best, reminisce on lost love, and deliver such wonderful lines like “I sharpen my blade on talkative men’s throats.” Both Yee and Hark penned the script, along with Chun Tim-Nam, who has worked with both directors before, penning the likes of Seven Swords and The Shinjuku Incident. The dialogue and story are arguably Sword Master’s biggest strengths, ensuring characters motivations and personalities are fully fleshed out, and notably drawing some surprising laughs from a sharp sense of wit occasionally on display.

Old school fans will no doubt appreciate the inclusion of Norman Chu as the father of Lin, which also makes him the only returning cast member from the original. At over 60 years old he cuts a commanding figure, and provides a welcome link to those movies that came before. For those who hope to see him in action, the good news is that he also throws in some slicing and dicing for good measure. While we’re on action, as mentioned previously the expectation that having Yuen Bun and Dion Lam on-board comes with thankfully doesn’t disappoint. Purists will no doubt cry foul at the CGI enhancements, however these are also likely the same purists who complain that the action in the Shaw Brothers wuxia’s is too flowery and stylised. Amongst the shots of flowing material and CGI projectiles, Bun and Lam have crafted some solid swordplay that delivers the goods.

When Norman Chu yells to “Get into formation!” It almost felt like it was the first time hearing this line in such a context since watching movies like Shaolin Intruders and The Emperor and his Brother. The merging of the old-school action style created with modern day filming techniques is never going to please everyone, however if this is the direction that wuxia action is going to take, then it stands as a worthy update and homage to what’s come before. From one-on-one sword duels, to clan vs. clan attacks using a variety of weapons, all of the action scenes are choreographed to a high level, with the performers moving both to avoid real weapons and CGI ones that would be added in post. To perform against an attack that’s not there, and then seamlessly carry on performing choreography against those that are there, is a skill in itself, and shouldn’t be written off as technology doing all the work.

All things considered, Sword Master isn’t just an imitation of the era its source material is from, instead Yee’s movie feels like a bold reimagining of how the wuxia genre can still work using modern technology. If the Shaw Brothers wuxia’s charmed with their sets and elaborate costumes, 90’s wuxia’s wowed with their elaborate wire work and set pieces, then wuxia from this era will hopefully be defined by its strong storytelling and CGI infused action. Let’s hope that for other filmmakers, Sword Master sets the bar.

Paul Bramhall’s Rating: 8.5/10

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C4m8swNJVdU

The post Sword Master (2016) Review first appeared on cityonfire.com.

“The Challenger” Chinese Theatrical Poster

AKA: Deadly Challenger
Director: Eric Tsang
Producer: Lo Wei
Cast: David Chiang, Norman Chu, Lily Li Li Li, Philip Ko Fei, Eric Tsang, Huang Ha, Peter Chan Lung, Mars, Tai Bo, Alan Chan, Benny Lai, Chan Dik Hak, Chan Siu Gai
Running Time: 87 min.

By Matthew Le-feuvre

When Hong Kong stalwart and one-time international star, David Chiang (Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires) re-negotiated his contract with the venerated Shaw Brothers on a one-picture basis, the lustre and uncongested environs of Taiwan was, decidedly, his next port of call. And like Jimmy Wang Yu, Taiwan’s flourishing marginally commercial film industry offered Chiang creative freedom and working conditions that were less hectic, less routined, yet the demands of schedules and post-production marketing nevertheless sufficed.

With a distinguished career which has enjoyed the triumvirate benefits of acting, producing, and directing, David (aka John) Chiang Wei Nien essentially began his ascent into film stardom as far back as 1960 (although actually made his debut aged four). Indeed, nondescript walk-ons, standins or disposable stuntman parts showcased his relative inexperience – noticably in The Golden Swallow and The One-Armed Swordsman – but this was a necessary foundation before lead, or even supporting roles were contractually furnished.

Propitiously, it was the much lauded filmmaker, Chang Cheh, who discovered and nurtured Chiang into replacing local icon, Jimmy Wang Yu – who by common knowledge decamped to “fruitful pastures.” Controversial, though inspired, after a sequence of prevalent wu-xia dramas (The Invincible Fist, Have Sword Will Travel and The Heroic Ones), the physical labours Chiang subjected himself to in dealing with/or conforming to Cheh’s epic scopes effectively and deservedly garnered him several nominations, particularly cult favourite Vengeance – an alternative, finely crafted reworking of John Boorman’s arthouse thriller Point Blank.

Regardless of its explicit violence, baroque set interiors and image laden with obsessive symbolism of man’s inner animal, Chiang’s almost surreal depiction of a truly tortured soul won him ‘The Best Actor’ accolade. Furthermore, while the implementations of foot-long daggers, punctured torsos, or sliced throats may have initially divided audiences, there is however an undeniable poetic grace seldom understood (by critics), but equally hard to neglect because of the protagonist’s one dimensional focus.

Although Chiang continued down other avenues of dramatic expression in pictures such as: The Four Riders, The Generation Gap and The Drug Addict, he often felt these productions negated any true intimations of the human condition: well in part, anyway! Suffice too say, reality and fantasy are (in philosophical terms) mere complimentary facets of each other, and no doubt Chiang-the Actor; or Chiang-the Artist was/is conciously aware of these celluloid shortcomings. Sadly, it appears, he hasn’t really found his dream project: a script denoting “social honesty”.

In some creative circles this may be unduly typified as an “unreachable mountain summit” (Jorodowski’s unmade Dune adaptation for example!) or a “Holy Grail” even, where – metaphors aside – compromise or artistic license are (each) for a better description thoroughly overshadowed by the priority of commerce, as well as the unblinking eyes of studio executives fueled solely by visions of healthy box office returns, packed houses (cineplexes) and screaming admirers. Pragmatically, and safely from the ever looming manevolence of (potential) self-ruination, Chiang consorted to ‘kung fu comedy’ with a proverbial twist.

Reuniting with the personable, though invariably unsmiling, Tsiu-Siu Keung (Shaolin Mantis); Chiang joint-credits the electric jade screen as ‘Yao’ – an archetypal fortune hunting con man eager too make that ‘big score.’ At the opposite end of the spectrum, the motivations of capitalism or fame are inconsequential to the eponymous ‘challenger,’ Kam Ching Hung (Keung). Instead his enigmatic resolve – which seems obsessional, arrogant and misguided – intrigues Yao into instigating a contest of wits and fists too which Hung majestically walks away to continue his gaunlet run against a myriad of provincial schools: the question is why?

Singular and unremitting, Hung’s forceful (and in some instances comical) duels, moreover attracts the curiosity of shady miscreant restaurant/casino owner, Pau (Philip Kao Fei – sporting an obligatory wig) and his duplicious lover, Wei (Lily Lei). Together they orchestrate a scheme to discover ‘the challenger’s’ real identity/intentions by tempting and manipulating Yao with a financial offer. Meanwhile, Pau becomes increasingly more uneasy with Hung’s eccentric behaviour.

The stakes are raised even higher as Yao, now consumed by avarice, conspires with Wei in an attempt to kill both Hung and Pao, only to learn in time the genuine, tragic circumstances of ‘the challenger’ and his deeply personal link to Pao. In a kinetic, suspense-loaded conclusion, Hung and Yao combine their fighting dexterity against Pao’s equally capable minions, and naturally, Pao himself, in a course of action that will determine a shocking inevitability.

Verdict: A confined premise, this is not! On the contrary, at the heart of The Challenger is a story about two contradictory extremes: personal vengeance and personal greed. While some viewers may find the proceedings convoluted with too many twists and chicanery, it is nonetheless a unique excursion into the human psyche and how it is expressed through the abstract beauty of kung fu.

Extraordinarily, the interplay between Tsui Siu Keung and David Chiang perfectly counter-balances each others’ artistic strengths and overt talent: Chiang’s extrovertness is the ‘Yin’ to Keung’s laconic ‘Yang’ exterior, and even if there are no sumptious production values, one can cast aside the obvious budgetary limitations in favour of an intelligent script and Eric Tsang’s proficiently flowing direction.

Matthew Le-feuvre’s Rating: 9/10

The post Challenger, The (1979) Review first appeared on cityonfire.com.

“Dirty Kung Fu” Chinese Theatrical Poster

Director: Lau Kar Wing
Cast: Wong Yu, Cecilia Wong Hang Sau, Wilson Tong, Lau Kar Wing, Thompson Kao Kang, Karl Maka, Norman Chu, Fung Hak On, Cheng Hong Yip, Wong Shu Tong, Dean Shek, Billy Chan, Chan Dik Hak, Peter Chan
Running Time: 90 min.

By Matthew Le-feuvre

Deftly defiant, and roguishly engaging with a persona that marginally capitalized on the edge of sardonic repose: a contradiction indeed! The late Wong Yue, who in many ways unintentionally mirrored (his) contemporary, Alexander Fu Sheng, as well as heralding the prospective box office clout of Jackie Chan by at least three years has, to varying degrees, never been properly commended or even designated into somekind of “Hall of Fame” accolade. The question is why?

Despite once being a crucial, though critically underrated, Shaw Brothers asset, much of Wong Yue’s pictures (bar exception his supporting roles in timely classics such as 1976’s Challenge of the Masters and 1975’s The Flying Guillotine) tended to be essentially “variations on a theme” that observedly stretches back to 1975 with his highly-animated lead debut in Lau Kar Leung’s crowd pleasing supernatural comedy The Spiritual Boxer (1975). By the mid eighties, in furtherance of the Shaws’ inevitable transition to Television production, Wong’s commercial attraction sadly began to spiral into igmony. A crime in itself! However, mercurial bankability and personal challenges with alcohol and drug dependancy (which thankfully he overcame!) saw Wong’s output diminished to less-than-princely cameos – or employment as a technical advisor/stunt arranger – before venturing into the casino business.

Ultimately whatever his human shortcomings in the day – regardless of a very stressful, physically demanding lifestyle – Wong Yue’s easygoing, cocksure deportment married with a fluid, almost spontaneous, kung fu style – courtesy of Lau Kar Leung/Lau Kar Wing’s innovative and expressive choreography – tickled audiences throughout what is believed to be the better part of an erratic decade marred by a split (cine-passionate) demograph.

Although plucked from the bowels of obscurity – apparently on a casting whim of Sir Run Run Shaw? – Wong Yue’s restrictive working misadventures as a hotel baggage clerk undoubtedly paled in comparison to his inaugural forays into stuntmanship. Still, this preparation for a solid, albeit conservative and labourous career, at the Shaws’ movietown enclosure was, it seems, designedly manufactured and attentively monitored ensuring maximum commerce potential. Yet beyond the unpredictability of the HK box office, Wong ably circumvented the legalities of his long-term contract by starring in several independent pictures financed/directed by the aforementioned Lau brothers. Of these, Dirty Kung Fu tipped the comedic scales towards the inane, relying sporadically on appropriated plot elements from The Spiritual Boxer, and the Lau’s antecedent He Has Nothing But Kung Fu (1977), to insure another goofy addition to Wong’s actively diverse filmography.

Indeed, characteristically dependent on Wong’s ability to charm, invoke or otherwise: Dirty Kung Fu ventures into avenues of humourous absurdity, thrilling us devoted patrons with an undemanding script that is, in part, fondly reminiscent of Jackie Chan’s critically divided Half A Loaf of Kung Fu (1978/80). And despite patently blemished by incoherent cinematography, twitchy editing, and suffice to say – throw away dialogue of an impromptu nature; well at least in its dubbed format – one cannot disregard or overlook the exciting balletic opening or subsequent fight arrangements plentifully centred (for budgetary reasons, no less) in a ‘new territories’ type village location: home to extortions, corruption and everything else in between.

Ironically enfolded in a market ‘then’ deliberately suffused with a torrid plethora of Bruce Lee clones and (now) counterpoised by Jackie Chan wannabes, Wong Yue refreshingly eclipsed these unwelcomed charlatans for another unforgettable screen incarnation as Pei Chou-Chai aka “The Rubberball Kid,” an incompetent opportunist impassioned to make his mark as a bountyhunter. Unfortunately, he is outclassed, and equally, out manoeuvred by more experienced resident hunters: “Flashing Blade,” Mr Yip (Tsui Siu Keung) and “The Snake King,” Pei Yuen Tin (Lau Kar Wing – who speaking of, directs with the right measure of dynamic jollity!).

After misidentifying a corpse as an outlaw at a funeral service, Pei finds himself wanted by the local police chief (Karl Maka) on a charge of fraudulent behaviour. In order to expunge this mistake, Pei hopelessly exhausts his improvisational deceptions by either losing his captives to the lure of gambling or simply because of a lack of martial skill. Determined to bring down an untouchable miscreant (Wilson Tong in super sinister mode) versed in the mysterious art of “Heaven’s Door Kung Fu” – a debased version of “Spiritual Boxing,” Pei devises an eel/snake combo-system whilst employing the use of his girlfriend’s underwear – an unusual, yet, in Chinese mythology, an exceptable accoutrement for battling spiritually possessed fighters. For Pei, though, will these intergrated deterrents insure victory?!

Verdict: On the further inspection beneath a ‘now’ commonplace exterior, interfacing concepts do not always harmonize, but somehow (the) Lau’s kinetic formula, which wasn’t consistently subtle, or for that matter, original, repeatedly worked! It wasn’t so much the pioneering, new, fangled ideas in preference of old school values in the way the late Bruce Lee had accomplished! The Lau’s “originality” nonetheless was in applying re-imagined methodologies from an alternative perspective. Fortuitously, Dirty Kung Fu slots firmly into this catagory!

Matthew Le-feuvre’s Rating: 7/10

The post Dirty Kung Fu (1978) Review first appeared on cityonfire.com.

“City War” Chinese Theatrical Poster

Director: Sun Chung
Cast: Chow Yun Fat, Ti Lung, Norman Chu, Tien Niu, Lee Ka Ting, Lo Lieh, Teresa Carpio, Michael Chow, Ricky Yi, Mary Hon Lut Lee, John Ladalski, Robin Shou
Running Time: 92 min.

By HKFanatic

City War will likely always hold a fascination for Hong Kong movie buffs, as it’s a vintage heroic bloodshed films featuring the fan favorite pairing of Chow Yun Fat and Ti Lung, reunited just a year after A Better Tomorrow II. If only City War could live up the hype and expectation that will no doubt surround it upon first viewing. But the truth is that the movie is just not very good.

Like many Hong Kong films of its era, the tone of City War is wildly uneven. The first hour or so of the movie bounces back and forth from frivolous comedy to steamy romance, as Chow Yun Fat grins and dances his way through the script as a young but high ranking cop with a thing for the ladies. Ti Ling merely smolders with rage in the background, hissing through clenched teeth about injustice in the system and how Hong Kong has gone to the dogs, AKA the Triads.

Their somewhat happy co-existence is shattered when a top Triad gangster (played by a scene-stealing Norman Chu) gets out of prison after a 10 year stint and sets his sights on our heroes. From there, the script dovetails out of nowhere into pitch-black tragedy.

By the end nobody’s smiling for the camera and City War wants us to take it very seriously. The story predictably builds to a climactic shoot-out in a warehouse-like location, which would be all well and good except that the action choreography ends up being a disappointment. City War was directed by Shaw Brothers veteran Chung Sun (The Avenging Eagle). This was Sun’s one attempt at making a more contemporary kind of Hong Kong film towards the end of his career but unfortunately he doesn’t seem particularly adept at handling blood-spurting action.

Plenty of bad guys are riddled with bullet holes but the staging lacks the style and ‘oomph’ of a filmmaker like John Woo. The ending battle would have benefited from the kinetic flair, judicious use of slow motion, and respect for spacial choreography that Woo displays in his finest works. In comparison, the action in City War comes across as choppy and overly edited. Another Chow Yun Fat film – Tiger on Beat – at least went for broke with its ending by embracing madcap, chainsaw-swinging physicality.

A limp ending might not be such a disappointment if the rest of City War gave us a reason to care. But the script seems written on the fly, Ti Lung is sadly underutilized, and Chow Yun Fat’s natural charisma is almost wasted in a role where he has nothing much to do but romance a gangster’s girl until it’s time to get revenge. If you’re anything like me, you’ve probably been eager to view this film just to witness an ’88 pistol opera pairing of Chow Yun Fat and Ti Lung. Sadly, the movie I pictured in my mind was a lot more entertaining than this. There are plenty of similar titles I can recommend viewing over this (Tragic Hero, Dragon Family, even Flaming Brothers). I’d only suggest making time for City War once you reach the bottom of your ‘heroic bloodshed’ checklist. Come on, I know you’ve got one.

HKFanatic’s Rating: 6/10

By JJ Hatfield

The movie has barely begun before action explodes on the screen. A cop is chasing a shoplifter and they end up in a restaurant where the criminal holds a woman employee hostage. The bad guy is also holding a really long bladed knife to the poor woman’s throat and blood is dribbling down her neck. With the cop, Ken (Ti Lung) not making much progress the hostage negotiator, Dick, (Chow Yun- Fat) is called in to deal with and diffuse the standoff. It’s almost a good cop – bad cop situation except nothing was planned and there is nearly a fight between the two.

It all works out and the two cops can work together well but Ken is short tempered whereas Dick is more mellow and kicked back in his white polyester suits. He likes the finer things in life including beautiful cars and beautiful ladies, not necessarily in that order. However he is always on the look out for clues and really does take his duty seriously.

The viewer should remember this film was made in the 1980s Hong Kong Triad/Crime/Heroes With Guns setting. After the hostage situation things do seem to drag as Dick does his dazzling disco which seems to be more groping than dancing. But do watch and pay attention as it does have relevance. Dick Lee and Ken Chow hold different values in their hearts but they are both truly good men who have become good friends.

Ken is a family man and nothing means more to him than his wife and children. One of the reasons he became a cop was to help make the world, or a portion of it, safe for his loved ones. Ken has a difficult time trying to understand Dick’s flamboyant ways and Dick can’t imagine being tied down with a family. Nevertheless a deep bond develops between them and Dick becomes a friend to the whole family.

Things turn deadly serious when Ken discovers a vicious criminal Ted (Tsui Siu-Keung) is about to be free and on his own after being taken down ten years earlier as part of a major gangland force. Ken was heavily involved and has received threats to him and his family. All this time Ted hasn’t forgotten his revenge and has everything in position. He has no intention of letting those miserable years go unpaid.

In desperation to protect his family Ken nearly ends up off the force. Dick tries to calm him but he cannot know what it feels like to have your family in danger. No one will believe Ken’s fears are real, after all he has arrested many powerful gang criminals before and nothing had happened.

This film helped to re – energize Chow Yun Fat’s career as well as to bring back the excitement and bullet ballets of the great director John Woo. “A Better Tomorrow’ changed many things for a lot of people in the industry, I believe for the good. Ti Lung is always reliable and in some films, even this one, he comes across as very believable. Ti Lung And Chow Yun Fat have been in numerous films together and usually it is Ti Lung with the calmer head. But this time it is family.

I wasn’t impressed with the the direction by Chung Sun. It was adequate but the third act might have used a bit in the earlier part of the film. Once the insane shooting finale begins it’s balls to the wall and … don’t want to say too much. Chung Sun is better known for his work with the Shaw Brothers earlier films in the 1970s and early 1980‘s with movies such as “Human Lanterns”. Hoskin is credited with the story and there are no less than five action choreographers! Trust me, they were needed with this much action taking place!

The finale involves Ken and Dick and a whole bunch of bad asses trying to kill each other in ballistic excess but great action!. That shouldn’t be a spoiler when these two are on the screen. They do have a special chemistry that shines through the role or character!

The massive action is quite good. The fights are filmed in a fashion that allows the viewer to see what is happening. The story line even brings in a special assassin (Robin Shou Wan Bo) in a very brief cameo. Action fans will not be disappointed. This is good solid entertainment. If you feel a bit restless early on do not worry. Your patience will be rewarded!

JJ Hatfield’s Rating: 7.5/10

The post City War (1988) Review first appeared on cityonfire.com.

“Shaolin Mantis” Theatrical Poster

Director: Lau Kar Leung
Cast: David Chiang, Cecilia Wong, Lily Li Li Li, Lau Kar Wing, Wai Wang, Wilson Tong, John Cheung, Wong Ching Ho, Cheng Miu, Norman Chu, Gordon Liu, Meng Hoi, Lee Hoi San
Running Time: 96 min.

By Matthew Le-feuvre

Throughout their careers as movie producers, the Shaw brothers were always confidently direct (especially the late Sir Run Run) when conveying their production targets: diversity was, naturally, their main aim to healthy box office returns via catering to the tastes of cinema-goers practically all over south-east Asia.

While their contemporary thrillers or fantasy horrors tended to be modest or hokey respectively, the Shaws’ traditional/Wuxia features on the other hand were of a different calibre: savagely baroque, emotionally uplifting and fantastically stylized, yet behind these motifs there were/are hidden metaphors and politically charged statements (not always visible to Communist mainlanders) still relevant today as they were thirty or forty years ago.

Usually under the watchful eye of in-house director, Chang Cheh and his former protege – fight choreographer turned film-maker, Liu Chia Liang – both chose to elucidate how harsh communism was (and continues to be!) using the backdrop of Kung Fu cinema as a conduit for self expression; although each had their own individual stamp, politically.

‘Oppression’ or battling ‘Class Oppression’ were major nuances that drove Chang Cheh’s subject matters, particularly through the unification of patriotic heroes whom seldom won against the machinations of a corrupt government, whereas Liang’s approach was always the singular or ‘loner’ facing insurmountable odds often winning by the application of piety and humanity: Cheh’s protagonists, however, invariably succumbed to bloody martyrdom. Shaolin Mantis, Liang’s fifth directing credit, was too take all these concepts one step further highlighting (the) Yin/Yang complexities in relationship to all things political, martial and spiritual.

Otherwise known as Deadly Mantis in the states, the irrepressible talents of David Chiang are put to the test both characteristically and physically in a role often regarded as his second finest (Vengeance, naturally being the first); not that Chiang has ever given a bad performance. Here he was allowed a little more vulnerability than his general typecasting of grinning rogues or flighty swordsmen as Wei Feng – a Ching (Manchu) official ordered to investigate a wealthy family suspected of having pro ‘Han’ revolutionary connections. Posing as a wandering scholar, Feng manipulates his way into the Tien family household, primarily employed as a teacher to wayward granddaughter, GiGi (Huang Hsin-Hsui).

There, Feng is introduced to each member who periodically tests him of any fighting abilities, which he conceals through feigning ignorance of the martial arts. Unintentionally Feng’s mission leads to romance and inevitably marriage to GiGi much too the consternation of her grandfather (Liu Chi Yung aka Lau kar Wing), who is convinced Feng is a Ching spy. Finding evidence needed to insure his position within the Ching administration, Feng influences GiGi into leaving the mansion on a whim of wanting to visit his parents; which in part, is the truth.

The next two paragraphs contains spoilers: The Tien elder (Yung) otherwise has more severe designs in mind. During their escape, Feng reveals his martial arts prowess and finds himself, in tandem with GiGi , confronting a gauntlet of five opponents: these consist of (support) Hong Kong superstars, John Chang, Tsiu Siu Keung, Lily Li, Wilson Tong and aforementioned Liu Chia Yung. GiGi, however, is accidentally killed forcing Feng into hiding while the remainder of the Tiens’ believe he committed suicide by riding off a cliff.

In reflective solitude, Feng contemplates his revenge, but knows his limited skills are no match for the elder Tien until inspiration occurs in the form of a praying mantis. Studying the insect under various conditions, Feng develops his own mantis fist style and returns to the Tien estate fully versed to counteract Grandpa Tien’s seemingly devastating Kung Fu techniques.

The film concludes with an ambiguous narrative, posing numerous political afterthoughts as too the real meaning of patriotism; or be as it may, the duality or opposing values of patriotic/nationalistic duty.

Importantly, Liang’s canvases have always been bold and versatile beneath the Shaws’ studio banner, deliberately asking questions in a subtle way without alienating audiences or hindering the continuity of fight choreography and/or – if critics truly observe – character development: an area of film-making Liang genuinely cared about as much as presenting distinct Kung Fu formats.

Although Shaolin Mantis may not appeal to those interested in its contradictory political subtext, the flip side of this timeless classic is Chiang’s humanized performance and Liang’s fluid direction/choreography which more than compensates for any detectable flaws, technical or otherwise.

Verdict: Poetic, ironic and totally breathtaking!

Matthew Le-feuvre’s Rating: 10/10

The post Shaolin Mantis | aka Deadly Mantis (1978) Review first appeared on cityonfire.com.

“Legend of the Bat” Chinese Theatrical Poster

Director: Chor Yuen
Writer: Chor Yuen
Producer: Mona Fong Yat Wah, Yueh Hua, Cheng Li, Candice Yu On On, Derek Yee, Wang Chung,
Cast: Ti Lung, Ling Yun, Cheng Miu, Yuen Wah, Norman Chu
Running Time: 101 min.

By JJ Hatfield

This breathtakingly beautiful film is a rather unusual mix of martial arts, sword fighting, mystery and intrigue from the Shaw Brothers. Set in the Martial World, two longtime friends return from a journey only to discover something terrible has happened in their absence. They immediately set out to find those responsible and set things right once again. During the investigation the duo encounters the first of an ever increasing host of strange characters one more enigmatic than the last. All have different motivations and tales to tell, but they come to share one thing in common.

In order to obtain what they seek, they must make the journey to Bat Island.

The voyage across the sea is long and fraught with hidden risk. Twists and turns take place among the people and on-board the ship. One by one it is revealed that the passengers are not who they pretend to be. Each of them tries to discern the intentions of the others while giving few clues as to the real reason they have for making such a hazardous venture. Some passengers speak little, one does not speak at all. Suspicion snakes its way through the group as strange and unexplained occurrences increase. The island was rumored to be the secret dominion of the mysterious Bat, his opulent abode the place of exclusive auctions where it was said that anything may be bought any wish may be granted but only for his particular price. The Bat’s fortress, it was said, was an enormous luxurious palace of sumptuous comforts and delights, filled with exquisite finery. But there were also dark whispers about the evil that lies in wait for any who dare trespass.

Legend of the Bat is a sequel to Clans of Intrigue and though there are some slight differences, it does not interfere with the story. Chor Yuen helmed both films and wrote the screenplay, working from the popular wuxia novels by Gu Long. Both movies have the same cast, however not every actor returns as the same character. The story line is not a continuation, but continues the wuxia theme with heroic deeds, dazzling sword fights, deception and deceit, the baffling and the bizarre. It isn’t necessary to see Clans of Intrigue beforehand to be thoroughly entertained by this movie.

The Martial World is a wondrous place where anything can happen. It would not exist if not for the heroes and heroines who are always busy keeping peace or restoring the natural order. Heroic characters fight for honor, justice and to help those less able to defend themselves. There are certain characteristics a hero must possess – a belief in treating everyone the same, honesty, courage and a die hard loyalty to friends, family and country. No one could fill that description better than Ti Lung (A Better Tomorrow) as Chu Lui-hsiang, the dashing young martial artist, expert swordsman and hero of the series of wuxia novels written by the prolific and well loved Chinese writer Gu Long. Lui-hsiang is a righteous warrior never hesitating to put himself in harms way for the sake of justice. He is perfect as the charismatic, intelligent, fearless vanquisher of villains. Without him in the title role, the movie would lose its center and some damned impressive sword fights.

Not only is Lui-hsiang a highly skilled fighter, he is also quite clever and uses reasoning to unwrap the tangle of puzzles that spring up around every chamber and and corner. Ti Lung is a powerful presence in nearly all his roles and Legend of the Bat is no exception. He is a delight to watch as he does battle with evil -doers, never hesitating, cool as ice. Lui-hsiang looks fantastic whether gently waving his fan or wielding his flashing sword. The men admire him or they want to kill him or both. Women want him or they want to kill him or both. Ti Lung also has some fun playing Lui-hsiang as confident to the point of being cocky at times with a bit of a swagger and a slight smirk.

Yi Tien-hung who also returns from Clans of Intrigue, is played by Yun Ling (Six Assassins). Not even in this fantasy world would anyone consider Tien-hung righteous, although he does help Lui-hsiang, he often has his own motivations, or more accurately his employment. His piercing gaze can freeze an opponent in their tracks. He always seems to be standing, still, always on alert. The darkness of his clothing mirrors his demeanor.

Also of note is Yuen Wah (Iceman Cometh) who has a substantial role considering how many people are in this movie, but has no lines as he plays a mute. To his credit he makes his presence felt in a very different role than he has played previously. It’s refreshing to see him outside the typical bad guy/gang member or minor character he often played. Wah is far more often in the stunt and fight unit onscreen or directing the action.

Water, water everywhere, but precious little in this ‘sea’. When telling a visual tale involving sea faring vessels, water is usually necessary to complete the illusion but dry ice and smoke take its place for Chor Yuen. As a director with a very specific and spectacular style, he never allows the camera to wander or roam, instead, he frames each and every shot as if it were a single carefully staged photograph. Filming on water doesn’t allow for that kind of direct control, especially considering the technology available when this movie was shot in 1977.  Yuen used a stage at the Shaw Brothers studios to shoot not only Legend of the Bat, but virtually all of his films. Using the indoor stage allowed for far greater control, but it was also considerably cheaper than shooting on location.

Chor Yuen’s wuxia fantasies are always layered in beauty of all forms, but with Legend of the Bat, he surpasses many of his previous films in creating this luscious feast for the eyes. The sets are elaborate, steeped in rich vibrant visuals so detailed it seems you could reach out and feel the warm touch of the sun or the icy cold of an unsheathed blade.

Chor Yuen surrounds every single scene with finishing touches worthy of a precious painting. Everything is meticulously planned. Nothing is left to chance. The sets are bright with artwork, flowers, swathed in soft flowing silk, gardens, statues, trees, fountains anything of a pleasing nature. Cheap stock sets and props are few and far between. Costumes, furnishings, hair, clothes; it does not matter if the scene is in an enchanting palatial manor or a desolate old farm house; attention to detail and skilled use of color are always present in Yuen’s works. As with many of his films, Chor Yuen has included a values message that is fitting for the Martial World.

The sword fights with Ti Lung are excellent, especially when he is up against a number of enemies. There are several extended scenes that involve complicated and dangerous maneuvers. Some of the most impressive include sparkling mountains and rivers made of pure gleaming ice and a lake of leaping flames. The Bat’s throne room is a magnificent piece of art all by itself. Fantastic creations cover every wall, doorway, ceiling, hallway and floor. Secret rooms hold brilliant adorned baskets and jars and many other treasures. The special effects are standard for the time, but they are certainly not annoying or distracting.

Some people may not appreciate the mystery aspect of Legend of the Bat. There are places in the story where it seems the Shaw Brothers version of Hercule Poirot is about to make an appearance. Lui-hsiang does spend a fair amount of time investigating and tracking down clues as well as red herrings. It doesn’t make the movie bad, but it does mean a bit less action in favor of intrigue.

Of course there is more to a movie than looking good no matter how good Chor Yuen can make it look. The biggest problem is the sheer number of characters who come at you at such a rapid pace, it’s difficult to keep track without a cast list in order of appearance. I appreciate Chor Yuen trying to be faithful to Gu Long’s story, but there is too much story with too many people stuffed into too little time. Nor can you easily follow the byzantine story machinations, subplots, sub-subplots, side-plots, or the sudden changes in allegiances, identities, behaviors and ulterior motives.

Some of the costumes and effects almost get out of control. There are funky colored lights in ice caves that kind of look like those lights used on retro aluminum Christmas trees. Some of the Bat’s minions wear ‘bat’ suits (no, not “Batman” suits) with tiny little ‘bat’ ears. People appear and disappear, then sometimes reappear with disturbing frequency with no explanation. This is not a serious type of film, it is purely for entertainment. Oh sure, some serious things happen… people get killed, and then some more people die – well actually there are a lot less people by the end of the movie than when it begins. But it really is a fun time. A movie with sword fights, a mysterious villain and Ti Lung? How can you go wrong with that?

JJ Hatfield’s Rating: 7.5/10

The post Legend of the Bat | aka Clans of Intrigue 2 (1978) Review first appeared on cityonfire.com.

“Zu: Warriors From Magic Mountain” Japanese Theatrical Poster

Director: Tsui Hark
Producer: Leonard Ho
Cast: Yuen Biao, Mang Hoi, Adam Cheng, Damian Lau, Sammo Hung, Moon Lee, Brigitte Lin, Norman Chu, Randy Man, Ha Kwong-Li, Tsui Hark
Running Time: 98 min.

By Numskull

An unrestrained martial arts fantasy extravaganza with ample tongue-in-cheek humor delivered with a smug “ain’t I a genius?” attitude by overpraised director Tsui Hark. This sugar rush of a movie bombards the audience with one special effects-laden action sequence after another until the whole production becomes a blur, largely devoid of truly memorable moments and remarkable only on account of its excesses. Antiquated special effects pop up all over the place as “fish out of water” Yuen Biao encounters numerous mystics and warriors with all sorts of supernatural powers (like a guy who can use his facial hairs as extendable appendages) and undertakes a quest to defeat the wicked Blood Demon and bring an end to a senseless war between rival factions who fight because…uh, they don’t like each other. I guess.

The storyline is (I assume) steeped in Chinese folklore and loaded with geek-friendly minutiae to which, I’m fairly certain, people more knowledgeable than myself attach all sorts of significance. I’d find out more, but frankly, I didn’t find the movie entertaining enough to justify the effort…and this is coming from a guy who goes on mini-shopping sprees in the Mythology & Folklore section at Barnes & Noble and was at the top of Mr. White’s Myth & Legend class in high school. The film is reasonably coherent as long as you resist the urge to turn your attention elsewhere, but the breakneck pace and relentlessness of the fantasy elements still make it feel like too much, too quick.

Maybe Tsui Hark should make another Zu movie now that more sophisticated special effects are available. Oh, hey, that’s right, he DID, and it bombed (rightly so, I might add). Oh well. Life is tough when you’re a hack director.

Numskull’s Rating: 5/10

By Vic Nguyen

Tsui Hark directed this groundbreaking special effects extravaganza which is a favorite among fans of Hong Kong’s fantasy genre. Features an all-star cast with names such as Yuen Biao, Sammo Hung, Meng Hoi, Brigitte Lin, Moon Lee, and Adam Cheng being the most memorable of the bunch. Although the special effects might seem amateurish by today’s standards, they are still impressive considering the budget, and the sheer imagination that the film possesses makes it an exhilirating thrillride until the end credits. A must for any Hong Kong enthusiast.

Vic Nguyen’s Rating: 8/10

The post Zu: Warriors from Magic Mountain (1983) Review first appeared on cityonfire.com.

“Tiger on the Beat” Chinese DVD Cover

Director: Lau Kar Leung
Cast: Chow Yun Fat, Conan Lee, Nina Li Chi, Shirley Ng, Norman Chu, Gordon Liu, David Chiang, Philip Ko Fei, James Wong, Wayne Archer, Lau Kar Wing, Shing Fui On, Lydia Shum, Ti Lung, Wilson Tong, Wu Shih, Bill Lui Tak-Wai
Running Time: 89 min.

By Joseph Kuby

More watchable than Lethal Weapon 3 and 4 combined!

Although this irreverent film should really be compared to the overlooked classic Running Scared (which was a big hit in Hong Kong) than Lethal Weapon as the story borrows from Billy Crystal’s movie in key scenes (as does Sammo’s Skinny Tiger Fatty Dragon). The international success of Lethal Weapon convinced studio heads to produce Tiger on the Beat.

Lethal Weapon was a good film with sharp interplay between Glover and Gibson but the action lacked anything noteworthy in concept. The chainsaw and belt-buckle segments in this flick are beyond anything conceivable in the vast majority of American action movies of the ’80s. Credit has to be given though to Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2 for providing obvious inspiration for the finale.

Tiger on the Beat is the sort of film which can be filed under the category of ‘only in Hong Kong’ and it’s a striking example of why Hollywood has never truly embraced the “anything goes” mentality of HK film making. The humor is a mixed bag as proves to be the case in a lot of HK films made around this period.

Chow Yun Fat and Conan Lee make for a delightful match-up which belittles the fact that they were skeptical of each other. Conan would get on Chow’s nerves a lot. Had they actually got along well, we would have seen them as a pair in Wong Jing’s God of Gamblers but Chow’s disregard of Conan meant that Jing decided to create a new commercial angle for his ’89 classic – HK’s biggest film star paired up with the HK’s biggest pop star.

Furthermore, Jing’s advocacy of fast-paced film-making was confronted by the possibility that the production would have slowed down and fallen apart due to the level of bickering that could go on between Chow and Conan.

If there had to be a sticky issue with this movie, it’s that Lau Kar Leung never wholeheartedly embraced contemporary martial arts thrillers in the same way Kwai, Sammo and Ping did. Lau was too stuck in his traditional ways to be renowned as a master of modern fighting styles. Metaphorically, he is akin to Wong Fei Hung’s rival in Once Upon a Time in China.

The action in this film has both +’s and -‘s. Many can argue that Lau is without equal when it comes to being a purveyor of unadulterated traditional martial arts action. Even so, he can never coordinate modern unarmed combat with the same ferocity that someone like Tony Leung Siu Hung could do. For all-round action, this film is reasonably enjoyable but for martial arts action, even an independent film like Angel can make mince meat of Lau’s contributions here.

Chow did not find it difficult to work with Lau. He claims all the ideas for the action in the film belong to Lau. When they were on the set, Chow learned how to manipulate various Chinese weapons. The part where Chow uses the knife at the end, they used a wire to tie the knife to his finger so he could twirl the knife.

The writer of this film, Tsang Kwok Chi, had also written Skinny Tiger Fatty Dragon – a film which owes its storyline to Running Scared no less than Tiger on the Beat does. The success of Tiger on the Beat had no doubt irked Lau Kar Leung’s younger brother. Lau Kar Wing was always envious of his brother’s success in the same way Sammo was of Jackie. The reason why Wing’s film was less successful was that Chow Yun Fat was a bigger star than Karl Maka.

The success of Running Scared may surprise people but the local audience in Hong Kong are more interested in comedies than action films (hence the mixing of genres that takes place in Hong Kong). Full-on action movies like Hard Boiled, Tiger Cage 2, Fist of Legend and Eastern Condors usually have relatively paltry box office results.

Tiger on the Beat made more money than the majority of Chow’s serious crime thrillers: A Better Tomorrow 2, City on Fire, The Killer, Flaming Brothers, Full Contact, Rich & Famous and Tragic Hero. As one might assume, Tiger on the Beat was big enough to have a sequel.

If the filmmakers of Running Scared realized just how big the film was in Asia, they could have gone ahead with making the sequel Still Running and releasing it for the Asian market. The size of Asia has always been perceived as a very good way to recoup costs. This explains why John Woo, Wong Jing and Jackie Chan have got away with making expensive films which proved to be troublesome for Hong Kong financiers.

In the case of Wong Jing, High Risk was made on a budget whose costs could not be covered in Hong Kong alone (where it made approximately US$ 1 million) thus the film went on to cover three times its cost after it made its mark in Japan, Thailand and Korea.

A lot of people have complained about the misogynistic attitude that Chow Yun Fat’s character conveys. I don’t mind it too much because it makes for a welcome departure from the usual congenial attitude one expects from a hero in a cop movie. Chow bashing a woman around beats the mandatory love scene you’d get in the American equivalent of a cop buddy movie.

My only complaint is that near the end of the film Nina Li likes him so much that she cries for him when she has to leave. Though this particular piece of plot development is nowhere near as implausible as the contrived final fight in Lethal Weapon.

Still, there was no plausible reason for her plight other than to make her more sympathetic. Something that was acknowledged as a marketing ploy by the producer to make her more likable for Asian audiences.

Prior to this film, a lot of movie goers were weary of Nina due to her coming from the Mainland and being perceived as a posh stuck-up diva. The perception is to do with Nina showing a lot of pride for her national heritage. Chow went as far to comment that Nina was less popular than the far-from-prestigious Amy Yip. According to Chow, the men in HK don’t like Nina because she’s not down-to-earth and she doesn’t have that ‘easy lay’ vibe that Amy has.

Nevertheless, Chow despised having to put Nina through all the misogyny. He felt sorry for her and, in his view, all the abuse lashed out on her should have been heaped on Conan. Chow was well aware of the fact that Conan was disrespectful to the people who made him a star in the first place. Chow was particularly appalled at the thought that any person working in the industry would be physically assaulted by a Triad in the hopes of acquiring Conan’s services.

Conan’s ego was such that he thought that he was brought in to make Chow a big star than vice-versa. It’s not hard to imagine Conan as someone in need of a reality check. In a ’90s issue of the American magazine Inside Kung Fu, he had the audacity to claim that Chow wouldn’t have been in Tiger on the Beat had Conan not accepted the role as his partner. Conan’s claim would have been credible if the film was made before A Better Tomorrow.

Conan is something of an enigma in HK cinema. In muscularity, Conan is to Jackie what Dragon Lee is to Bruce. Conan is so egotistical that he proclaims to be the only actor who has done his own stunts yet he lacks the finesse his lookalike has. Conan, to his credit, has the same mentality to do risky stunts.

Conan’s knowledge of English was never capitalized on when it came to distributing this film in English-speaking territories. This means his inclusion in the cast makes for a bizarre choice. I’m assuming the production team wanted Jackie so much that they were willing to settle on a poor man’s version to capture half of the effect.

Like how Megadeth’s Dave Mustaine has a tendency to mention Metallica in interviews, Conan never fails to convey disdain for Jackie when given the chance to talk with someone in the media. Upon the release of this film, Conan was quick to point out that his chainsaw battle was vastly impressive than Jackie’s encounter with a chainsaw-wielding crony in The Protector. Coincidentally, Jackie’s Peking Opera teacher had done a film in 1980 called The Old Master (with Bill Louie) which had chainsaw action.

The last thing that will be said about Conan will be a quote from Chow:

“Lee Yuen Bat is more Gwailo. He’s not Chinese! He’s really like a Hollywood star. He’s always…*mimes a sniffing action*”

The Lethal Weapon producer Joel Silver is a big fan of this film and got Conan to play Jet Li’s brother in Lethal Weapon 4. When he produced Exit Wounds with Steven Seagal and DMX, the rope trigger gag was reused along with a humble reference to the chainsaw encounter. Lamentably, Joel gave a disservice to Lau by siting John Woo for the rope-trigger bit.

If you’re bored with strait-laced heroics and want something that’s a bit more bohemian then Tiger on the Beat is recommendable, just don’t watch it with feminists.

Joseph Kuby’s Rating: 7.5/10

By Raging Gaijin

Chow Yun Fat and Conan Lee headline this action-packed 80’s Hong Kong flick. This is the kind of movie that the country seemed to mass produce during that decade: a melting pot of genres that tosses out wacky humor and gritty drama in equal measure, all held together by intense action sequences. If you’re anything like me, you thrive off these movies and will be pleased to know that this is one of the best.

Okay, so the plot isn’t very remarkable. It’s basically a riff on Lethal Weapon as Chow Yun Fat and Conan Lee play two mismatched partners on the Hong Kong police force. Chow Yun Fat is a womanizing rebel who ducks responsibility while Conan Lee is the stoic cop who”s always diving into action whenever duty calls. The two actors, while both excellent in their roles, don’t really have any charisma together; and neither character is developed all that much. As a result, this doesn’t exactly rank as a great heroic bloodshed movie or violent drama like The Killer.

However, none of that really matters as soon as the action lights up the screen. Although his character is rather flat and unappealing, Chow Yun Fat has undeniable screen presence. It’s always thrilling to watch him reload a shotgun as he holds the shells between his gritted teeth. You just know some bloody mayhem is soon to follow.

As cool as Fat is, I have to admit that Conan Lee steals the movie from him. Maybe it’s just that his character is more likeable (he doesn’t beat women up, for one thing) but I think it also has to do with Conan Lee’s charisma. He’s a talented actor who never seemed to become as popular as some of his contemporaries but his role in Tiger on Beat leaves a strong impression. He’s the real star of the show and his phenomenal action sequences are what make this movie worth watching. He comes across as a more buff, more serious Jackie Chan. He does a lot of exciting stunts and engages in the movie’s best choreographed martial arts battles. The climax of these bouts is a jaw-dropping chainsaw duel that, in my opinion, ranks as one of the greatest onscreen fights ever filmed. Conan Lee and his opponent wield the saws as though they were swords, exchanging blows in a shower of sprayed sparks and blood, almost like a Hong Kong Chainsaw Massacre.

Tiger on Beat is a relic of the Hong Kong film industry. Besides the fact that it’s dated by Chow Yun Fat’s dubious fashion sense and a few scenes set at an aerobics class, it’s the kind of movie that no one really makes anymore: a no-frills blend of humor, drama, and violence. Sometimes the jokes work, sometimes they don’t; same thing goes for the emotional content. It’s a shame that Chow Yun Fat and Conan Lee don’t exactly light up the screen together, but Tiger on Beat still has some of the most over-the-top and insane action ever in a Hong Kong movie. This alone makes it a must see for fans.

Raging Gaijin Rating: 7.5/10

By Numskull

Chow Yun-Fat is Sgt. Li, an undercover cop who owes his continued employment in the Hong Kong Police force to his influential Uncle Jim. Everyone needs a hobby; his is adultery. Nothing unique there.

Conan Lee is Michael Cho, an up-and-coming cop who possesses the awesome ability to beat people up faster than the speed of sound…he hits a guy and we hear the sound effect several seconds later. Wow!

Together, these two men form a…a…well, um…they form a team of two men. Their conflict in approaches to cracking the drug case to which they are assigned makes them…uh…makes them…makes them not get along too well. Unlce Jim pairs them up because…since…uh…due to the fact that…er…well, he just DOES, okay?

Integral to the story are a brother and sister who get involved with the wrong people. He works the drug market to send money to his poor mama. She makes deliveries on his behalf to help keep him out of danger and when she gets uppity with Li he has to show her who’s boss. Take THAT, bitch!

The siblings’ antics cause all sorts of headaches for Li and Cho. The kind cured with violence, not aspirin.

The Lethal Weapon comparison for this movie is fairly accurate. There’s a decent mix of action and humor with some drama mixed in. The problem is, none of these elements has a strong enough presence to really make you sit up and take notice. Li and Cho sacrificing their pants to keep a couple of schoolgirls from getting their pretty little heads blown off may be amusing, but that’s pretty much the height of the film’s comedic content. Similarly, you’re not too likely to be moved to tears when so-and-so dies or when such-and-such happens and the action sequences fall a bit short of genuine excitement, except for a very cool chainsaw duel at the end.

Worth mentioning is the fact that this is one of the very few HK films I’ve seen that makes reference to other HK stars…not just Bruce Lee, as can be expected, since he has ceased to be a “star” and has entered the realm of myth and legend, but also Jackie Chan, Ti Lung, and a cheap (but perhaps deserved) shot at Anita Mui (or, more specifically, at Anita Mui’s breasts).

It’s a decent HK flick in many ways, but it won’t make you write home to tell the folks about it. Worth watching, but not worth spending oodles of cash on.

Numskull’s Rating: 6/10

The post Tiger on the Beat (1988) Review first appeared on cityonfire.com.

“The Duel” Theatrical Poster

Director: Andrew Lau
Cast: Ekin Cheng, Nick Cheung Ka Fai, Andy Lau, Norman Chu, Jerry Lamb, Kristy Yeung, Wu Tine Hsin, Zao Wei, Patrick Tam, Wong Yat Fei, Lau Wai
Running Time: 105 min.

By Alexander

The Duel is a pleasant diversion featuring an interesting blend of swordplay, martial arts, humor, drama, mystery and a pairing of Hong Kong pop superstars Andy Lau and Ekin Cheng as master swordsmen. The story revolves around Nick Cheung’s character, Imperial Secret Agent 9, and his attempts to locate the killer before a highly anticipated duel. There are a few twists and turns along the way, but few surprises, and for a story billed as a rousing Stormriders-esque action-adventure, most of the film focuses on the comedic romances between the three male leads and their lovers.

The true star of the film is Nick Cheung. He’s an endearing, goofy character ala Leslie Nielson in the Naked Gun series and gets loads more screen time than Ekin and Andy combined. Cheung plays the agent as slightly bufoonish, easily aroused, perpetually crude and demonstrates a nifty repertoire of kung fu moves while sporting an oddly appropriate mass of dreadlocks. All of the male characters, particularly Andy Lau, seem to channel the spirit of that famed Iron Chef host renowned for his over-emoting and fur lined coats. (Many animals were killed, it appears, to keep our stars warm.) Ekin’s performance amounts to a series of close-ups on his bangs, in profile, and despite his prominent picture on the DVD cover, only appears on-screen for a few minutes. Kristy Yang is adequate, although she never quite manages to convince us she’s upset after her “master” and brothers are slaughtered by the mysterious assassin.

Obviously, there are plenty of attempts at humor in The Duel. It’s quite hit-or-miss, ranging from a hilarious bit involving Agent 9’s mastery at “rolling” dice to groan-inducing lines like “We’ll grab the eunuchs and burn their asses with candles. Now that’s fun.” Har har.

Included on the DVD is a cool “making of” documentary which provides quite a bit of insight into the filmmaking process, Hong Kong style. There’s also a lot of behind the scenes footage and quite a few instances of Ekin and Andy unwinding during lulls in shooting.

Worth a rent.

Alexander’s Rating: 7/10

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“The Flaming Brothers” Chinese Theatrical Poster

Director: Joe Cheung
Writer: Wong Kar Wai
Cast: Chow Yun Fat, Alan Tang, Pat Ha Man Jing, Jenny Tseng Yan Lei, Patrick Tse, Philip Chan, James Yi Lui, Norman Chu, Fong Yau, Cheung Chok Chow, Chan Laap Ban
Running Time: 101 min.

By HKFanatic

Chow Yun Fat made this heroic bloodshed film in 1987, smackdab in the middle of “A Better Tomorrow” and “A Better Tomorrow II.” That fact alone will most likely set viewers’ expectations too high. Fans hoping for an action film as good as Chow Yun Fat’s collaborations with John Woo will end up sorely disappointed. While it’s not without its moments, “The Flaming Brothers” lacks the polish and character depth one associates with Woo’s entries in the genre.

Things start off well enough: the first 30 minutes are actually pretty damn good as Chow Yun Fat and Alan Tang play two Triad brothers who grew up together penniless and on the streets. As the film starts, they’re pretty low-level gangster just looking to start a nightclub. Unfortunately, Norman Chu (“The Dragon Family“) comes calling and whenever Chu shows up in a gangster movie you know some bad shit is about to go down. Turns out that Chu works for Mr. Kao (Patrick Tse, father of Nicholas), a top dog in the Triads who wants to use Chow and Alan’s nightclub as a front for his drug operation. Alan Tang turns him down since, much like Don Corleone in “The Godfather,” drugs are the one area of business he wants no part in. The duo’s snubbing of Mr. Kao sets into motion a series of events that will turn everybody’s lives into a living hell.

“The Flaming Brothers” is excellent when it sticks to depicting the glamor and danger of the Triad lifestyle. But during the second half of the story, the two brothers split up and engage in romantic subplots and the film flounders as a result. At first I thought Alan Tang was going to steal this movie from Chow Yun Fat – a seemingly impossible task but Tang is smooth, cocky, and fearless as a Triad gangster and he looks like he was born to wear a tailored suit. Unfortunately, once Tang makes a detour to Thailand and has an embarrassing incident with two Thai prostitutes (“Oh, you Superman!” says one of them in bad English), his character lost his edge and never recovered it for me. Tang spends the rest of the movie being an ass to his love interest (Jenny Tseng), even going so far as to lock her in a closet for no reason.

Once Tang no longer possesses the audience’s sympathy, it’s up to Chow Yun Fat to carry the film. However, he’s saddled with a syrupy love story and doesn’t get to wield a gun until the very end of the movie. It just so happens that one day Fat runs into an old childhood friend (Pat Ha), who now teaches at a Catholic school in Macao when she’s not working at a 7-11 back home in Hong Kong (what?!). The two strike up a relationship, mostly the result of a baby-faced Chow doing his best to make Pat Ha fall for him despite her knowledge that he’s a gangster. These scenes aren’t terrible but they sure are predictable, and all the 80’s fluff (like Chow Yun Fat dressed as Boy George and miming some Cantopop for an old folk’s home) clashes with what is supposed to be a hardcore Triad flick. Just when you think everyone is going to ride off happily into the sunset, Mr. Kuo rears his head. People die, oaths of revenge are sworn, and you know Someone Must Pay.

“Flaming Brothers” really is ‘just another Chow Yun Fat gangster movie’ but it is notable for the fact that it was an early script from future auteur Wong Kar-Wai (“Chunking Express“), who incorporates a surprising amount of Catholic religion into the story. However, there’s little in the script that suggests how great a storyteller Wong Kar-Wai would become. The plot and the way it unfolds are completely routine except for a few lively bits of action, and it all concludes on a note of nihilism for the sake of nihilism. Instead of earning its tragic ending like “The Killer,” this movie just left me feeling unfulfilled after the story’s denouement.

If you’re watching “Flaming Brothers” solely for the shootouts, you’re more likely to get some entertainment value out of it. There’s a sequence in Thailand that features more squibs and bullet-holes than a Paul Verhoeven movie, and the climax is a terrifically violent ‘heroic bloodshed’ finale with the bonus of taking place in the novel location of a horse stable. Director Tung Cho ‘Joe’ Cheung (“Pom Pom & Hot Hot”) makes judicious use of slow motion, letting us know he’s a John Woo disciple. “Flaming Brothers” is not the best Triad flick out there but it offers enough visceral thrills that fans of old-fashioned Hong Kong shoot-outs will want to sit down and watch it at some point. Just make sure you’ve seen Chow Yun Fat’s work with John Woo first…though on second thought, that might make “Flaming Brothers” even more underwhelming.

HKFanatic’s Rating: 6.5/10

The post Flaming Brothers, The | aka Dragon and Tiger Fight (1987) Review first appeared on cityonfire.com.

“The Dragon Family” Chinese DVD Cover

Director: Lau Kar Wing
Cast: Alan Tam, Andy Lau, Max Mok Siu Chung, Ken Tong Chun Yip, Norman Chu, Michael Miu Kiu Wai, William Ho Ka Kui, Lisa Chiao Chiao, Stanley Fung, Kent Cheng, Ku Feng, Lau Kar Wing, Shing Fui On, Philip Ko Fei, Wayne Archer, Charlie Cho, Kara Hui Ying Hung, Blacky Ko
Running Time: 88 min.

By HKFanatic

Andy Lau and Alan Tam must have had a good offscreen friendship during the late 80’s or 90’s, or maybe the same agent, since they managed to star in at least three movies together in that period. Thankfully, the two actors made for quite the dynamic duo, especially in action films. Much like in their ’91 collaboration “The Last Blood,” Andy and Alan are two of the only ones left standing for the heroic bloodshed-style finale at the end of “The Dragon Family.”

And what an ending it is: “Dragon Family” features what has to be the one of the earliest instances of gun fu as Alan Tam, Andy Lau, and Max Mok take on a warehouse of evil Triad scum with guns blazing, martial arts fighting, and even some fencing, all choreographed by Lau Kar-leung (“36th Chamber of Shaolin,” “Mad Monkey Kung Fu“). Kar-leung has a small supporting role and the film itself was directed by his younger brother, Lau Kar-wing. Although “Dragon Family” isn’t exactly heralded as a classic, the climax is one of the best Hong Kong shootouts I’ve seen outside of a John Woo movie.

By its release in 1988, “Dragon Family” was probably the 100th retelling of Coppola’s “The Godfather” in a Triad setting but, you know what, it works. The script takes its time setting up the story which means the film moves at a slower pace, but it also means we get to know the characters well enough that we actually care about them when the shit does hit the fan. Ko Chun Hsiung plays the head of the Dragon Family, a true Don Corleone figure if there ever was one. Hsiung is a the most kind and fair Triad leader you could possibly imagine – he even forgives his accountant for losing track of $4 million HK dollars. He’s also a loving father, despite being immersed in the underworld.

Hsiung has only one rule: if you’re part of his Triad family, you can’t deal in drugs. Anyone caught dealing in drugs will be executed, no questions asked. Early in the film we see Alan Tam, one of Hsiung’s surrogate sons and and enforcers, march into a crowded office complex and murder a man in cold blood with the emotional detachment of Arnold Schwarzenegger in the first “Terminator.” Turns out the portly fellow, now deceased, had been dealing drugs. Shortly after the killing, Alan Tam is shuttled off to Taiwan to lay low; he’ll be absent for most of the film but come back in a big way during the ending.

Unfortunately, Hsiung’s harsh stance against drugs will be his downfall. The execution of ‘Golden Teeth Shing’ upsets one of the other four leading Brothers in the Dragon Family, played by Ku Feng. Ku Feng teams up with the Family’s accountant (William Ho), a spineless worm of a man, to plot Hsiung’s demise. Once their associate played by Norman Chu returns from the Phillipines, having spent two years there negotiating heroin traffic into Hong Kong, the three men set in motion a dark plan that will lead to the downfall of Hsiung and his sons. Soon the stage is set for a bloody tale of revenge, including a shocking moment at a funeral that has to be seen to be believed.

If there’s a downside to “Dragon Family” besides its slow pace, it’s the fact that the Region 1 DVD’s subtitles are horrendous. I can deal with a faded, scratchy image as long as the aspect ratio is correct; however, half the subtitles don’t make any sense and read like they were translated backwards. You really have to pay attention to be able to follow the story at all. I believe the disc was put out by Tai Seng in 2004; this has to be one of their worst efforts. Hardcore fans might be better off springing for the Hong Kong all-region DVD, just to see if the subtitles on that version are remotely readable.

Performance-wise, “Dragon Family” is excellent. Ko Chun Hsiung is a natural as the honorable patriarch of the Family. Alan Tam may be more popular as a singer than a movie star but he was one of the most charismatic Hong Kong actors of his era. His unconventional good looks are at home in front of the camera and he clearly took to Lau Kar-leung’s action choreography as well, from the scenes of him rolling backwards off crates and diving onto the floor, pistols blazing. Andy Lau was still early in his career here but he manages to give a more subdued and natural performance unlike in “The Last Blood.” During the final battle there’s a shot of him leaning back on the floor, firing away with a pistol in his bandaged hand, that has to be the most bad-ass Andy has ever looked.

At first glance, there’s not much to differentiate “Dragon Family” from the dozens of other Triad flicks from the 80’s. But much like “Tiger on Beat,” also choreographed by Lau Kar-leung, it has a showstopper of an ending that’s worth waiting for. There might not be an ideal way to view “Dragon Family” for English speakers, but for my money it’s worth putting up with gibberish subtitles just to get to the finale. It’s cliche but true: ‘They don’t make ’em like this anymore.’ If you have any passion for heroic bloodshed or ‘bullet ballet’ films, then “Dragon Family” is a must see.

HKFanatic’s Rating: 7.5/10

The post Dragon Family, The (1988) Review first appeared on cityonfire.com.

“Hong Kong Godfather” International DVD Cover

AKA: Hong Kong Godfathers
Director: Wang Lung Wei
Cast: Leung Kar Yan, Norman Chu Siu Keung, Pomson Shi, Richard Cheung Kuen, Shum Wai, Chui Suk Woon, Kong Lung, Paulo Tocha, Shih Kien, Huang Pa-Ching
Running Time: 94 min.

By HKFanatic

Arriving in 1985, “Hong Kong Godfather” is one of the later era Shaw Brothers flick and it’s not necessarily one of their best either. However, this tale of Triad brothers has a certain sleazy energy to it, with way more sex and violence than one is accustomed to in a Shaw Brothers film, that makes it a compelling watch. Everything builds to the heroic bloodshed ending where our three heroes take on about fifty guys with nothing but meat cleavers. This lengthy action sequence occurs in a closed office complex – security guards fall over railings and hit the ground several stories down, blood paints the walls of stairwells, and office furniture is crushed as though it were made out of paper. It’s outstanding.

This epic finale came out just a year before “A Better Tomorrow“; while it lacks the poetry-in-motion style of John Woo, you’ve got to give the Shaw Brothers credit for getting there first. They were trying to innovate and stay relevant circa ’85 but they simply couldn’t compete with Golden Harvest boys like Jackie Chan and Sammo Hung or the approaching onslaught of Tsui Hark’s Film Workshop productions.

“Hong Kong Godfather” is your typical Triad revenge movie, except it had the disadvantage of being made before filmmakers like John Woo invented the iconography of the genre. Thus, the characters don’t actually use guns that often, instead they stick to knives or machetes, and many scenes are taken up by lengthy dinners or social events. In true Coppola “The Godfather” fashion, the main protagonists are introduced via an extended birthday party scene. The rest of the movie gives way to corny melodrama, betrayal that you can see coming from a mile away, and oaths of vengeance. Surprisingly, it still holds up fairly well – probably because when the action does come, it arrives fast and furious, courtesy of director Lung Wei Wang.

Shek Kin stars as the big Triad boss; in contrast with his role in “Enter the Dragon,” Shek plays about the most kind and gentle Triad boss you could imagine. In a cute homage to Bruce Lee, his young grandson swipes his nose and performs a few kung-fu kicks on the patio. “Where’d you learn those moves?” Shek asks, a bit bewildered.

Shek Kin’s right hand man is played by Norman Chu, who is saddled with one of the worst haircuts in 80’s cinema history. He’s got this little spit-curl perm that looks like something John Oates would have worn during the Me Decade, with a gross little rat tail at the end that Chu runs his comb through. Norman is a good actor but it’s hard to take him seriously for most of the movie.

Faring much better is Sammo Hung’s buddy, Ka-Yan Leung AKA “Beardy.” He doesn’t get to show off his martial arts skill as much as he does in his Golden Harvest films, but he’s still a bad-ass in “Hong Kong Godfather.” Retired from the Triad business ever since his wife died, he now lives in the country with two cute dogs until circumstances intervene and he’s pulled back in to the underworld. Shum Wai plays the pot-bellied traitor who is obviously evil from his introductory scene where he arches his eyebrow like a Bond villain.

Watching this film, I got the impression that the Shaw Brothers were trying desperately to score a hit so they over-loaded the movie with more nudity and violence than in any of their previous films, almost putting “Hong Kong Godfather” in exploitation territory. The story is alright, if predictable, but the ending is what really puts a ribbon on things. It’s brutal, bloody, well-choreographed – just a satisfying conclusion in the grand tradition of Hong Kong tragic hero finales. If you’re a big fan of heroic bloodshed or simply curious about seeing a Shaw Brothers film set during modern times, “Hong Kong Godfather” is worth a look. You just might want to take a shower afterwards to wash off the grime.

HKFanatic’s Rating: 7/10

By JJ Hatfield

Hong Kong, 1985. One man rules over the Triad world – Godfather Szetu Han. Now a violent new gang wants to get their share by any means they can and that includes taking over Han’s influence. Han decides to offer up a business deal. That’s how things are done. Unfortunately the new guys in town are not interested in getting a share they want it all!

This film is almost textbook triad/brothers/revenge courtesy of the Shaw Brothers. There are the fairly typical roles and plot that don’t need much exposition as the acts speak louder than words. Johnny Wang Lung-Wei directed, wrote and choreographed this second film for the Shaw studio. He also makes a brief appearance in the movie. All of the Triad elements are in good supply. Basic structure of story, not much plot, a traitor, bad asses and badder bad asses, loyalty, brotherhood and blood.

Despite this being an older film the story still holds up to current times. Unfortunately it has been overlooked by many people who would probably find it a very entertaining Triad piece. The film was not given much of a promotion budget and it wasn’t up to the style of some of the slick newer Triad films. Too bad – because this is a f**king fantastic flick!

Han (Sek Kin) is probably the nicest Godfather you will ever see on screen. His word is always a guarantee. He’s honest and doesn’t really like to order any sort of violence. But a Godfather has got to do what a Godfather has to do and he does have people who probably aren’t considered nice on those occasions. Drugs are one thing he is not interested in profiting from and he cares about those in the “family”. He considers three men as “sons”. Playboy Lung (Norman Chu), Sergeant Wen (Richard Kuen) and Mad – Dog Wei (Leung Kar-Yan). Han is such a good guy and family man he allows Mad-Dog to “leave the business” to care for his daughter after her mother dies. Everyone loves and respects the Godfather. With the exception of Lan, the scuzzbag leader of the gang that wants Han to give up territory or get out of their way.

Lan is too inept and too lazy to work his way up in the syndicate, he prefers brute force. Han refuses his demands and suddenly there are attacks, ambushes and Lan is behind it. Han’s three “sons” race to his side just like the old days!

The movie starts with action, the hook to catch your interest. Then the viewer is given the back story on the main characters. During this time do not expect machete mania. It would have been better perhaps to have a couple of tight fights during this time or maybe it is there to give you a chance to prepare for the all out slashing and slaughter to come. If the viewer is tempted to just FF through the non – action – don’t do it. You will lose a lot of the importance of the characters. The patient viewer will be well rewarded.

Between blood baths the viewer will recognize and enjoy the 80‘s thing happening. Funky style clothes – check. Bad hair – check. Shades – check. Cheesy music – check. “Brothers” humor – check. Machete hits that should cut off limbs, at least on the first blow but don’t – check. Triads – check. Revenge – check.

It really is not paced as well as it could be but you need something besides bloody fights! Not to worry action seekers the last twenty or so minutes is nothing but serious ass kicking and lots and lots of machetes and big knives being used by everyone. This isn’t a guns flick, these guys are the originals and that means machetes! Brutal, bloody and barbaric and it just keeps getting more intense. More people, more machetes, more bodies, more blood spilled and splattered in the name of revenge! Everyone is fair game if they are the new guys who caused so much bloodshed. Gangsters, other gangsters,some good guys, bad guys and even bystanders and the cops are taken down in fever pitch revenge.

Don’t look for any really artistic martial arts or “pretty” fighting. This is balls to the wall, take no prisoners, hard hitting, blood spurting, down and dirty fighting on a level rarely seen. Each fight is more bloody and full of gore than the last. There are some fight scenes that could more accurately be called stunts. Everyone who enjoys Hong Kong type action and Triad stories should have this movie in their collection!

JJ Hatfield’s Rating: 8/10

The post Hong Kong Godfather (1985) Review first appeared on cityonfire.com.

“Dream Home” International Theatrical Poster

Director: Pang Ho Cheung
Cast: Josie Ho, Michelle Yip Suen, Eason Chan, Norman Chu Siu Keung, Lawrence Chou Jun Wai, Nina Pau Hei Ching, Derek Tsang Kwok Cheung, Lo Hoi Pang
Running Time: 96 min.

By HKFanatic

“Dream Home” generated a great deal of controversy upon its 2010 Hong Kong release, due in large part to its graphic violence. Despite carrying a Category III rating (basically the equivalent to our NC-17), the Hong Kong DVD is censored. In a move that doesn’t make much sense, the cut footage is still available on the DVD but only as “deleted scenes.” So these sequences were too violent for Hong Kong audiences to view as part of the film but it’s okay to jump straight to them on a separate DVD menu? Regardless, “Dream Home” has been released uncut in the United States from MPI Home Video and it is indeed one gory, gory movie.

At its heart, “Dream Home” is nothing more than a slasher movie with slick production values, its plot spun around the recent housing crisis in order to give it an aura of social relevancy. A Category III film for the arthouse set, if you will. Director Pang Ho-cheung has been making unconventional films in Hong Kong since 2001, with scripts that often riff on HK cinema cliches but spin them in a different light. His first film “You Shoot, I Shoot” was about a hitman forced to hire a would-be filmmaker to help him video tape his kills and increase business in tough economic times. In 2010, Pang achieved HK box office success with “Love in a  Puff,” a romantic comedy about the smoking ban in Hong Kong.

Released the same year, “Dream Home” is Pang’s way of combining the horror movie with elements of comedy, all while taking a (somewhat) serious look at the housing crisis and high cost of living in Hong Kong circa 2007. In the lead role is Josie Ho, a stunning actress who previous worked with Pang Ho-cheung on “Isabella” and “Exiled.” IMDB tells me she played a character called Cantana in “Street Fighter: The Legend of Chun Li” but, as beautiful as Josie Ho is, you couldn’t pay me to watch that flick. If “Dream Home” works at all, it’s because of Josie. She plays a character who could be all too easy to view as loathsome and irredeemable, and yet Josie has you caring about her the entire movie.

Josie stars as a young woman just trying to make it in Hong Kong’s unforgiving economic climate. She’s working two part-time jobs, something that leaves her little room for a social life. She’s resigned herself to late night rendezvous with a married man, played by Eason Chan, while she works her ass off to raise enough money to move into her ‘dream home’: an expensive apartment with a great view of the Hong Kong harbor. Lengthy flashbacks are woven into the structure of the film, admittedly killing some of its tension and forward momentum, but these scenes go a long way towards developing Josie’s background. Her family history also has a little something to do with her present state of mind, which is fragile to say the least.

It turns out Josie’s dream home might be a little too expensive for her, even though she’s been saving money for years. But what if someone went around killing off tenants in a spectacularly violent fashion? That might just drive the price of real estate down. So when we’re not exploring Josie’s past via flashback, we’re watching hapless or unlikable characters get brutally dispatched just like in any “Friday the 13th” movie. Whether it’s cheating spouses or a bunch of sex-crazed stoners, it’s difficult to really care about the fate of these victims. The gore is intense and I have no qualms about stating that “Dream Home” is one of the most violent films I’ve seen in a lifetime of watching horror movies.

That said, the impact of the gore is often lessened by the fact that the filmmakers rely on CG rather than practical effects. The violence tends to look to “clean” and intangible; you may be staring at someone with a gaping knife wound on their face but you can tell the knife wound was added by some dude clicking on his mouse at a computer screen. It’s an issue with many horror movies these days and it may or may not bother viewers.

The realism of the onscreen violence is also lessened by the reaction of the victims, who sometimes flail in their death throes for an extended period of time; sit calmly smoking a cigarette while their intestines hang out of their body; or come back to life even with a wooden plank sticking out of their mouth. Moments like these felt so exaggerated I was almost expecting an “American Psycho”-style twist where the murders were all in our protagonist’s head.

In the end, it’s difficult to pinpoint just why I enjoyed “Dream Home,” other than the fact that Josie Ho is a very watchable actress. I will say the film has a decent message beyond the topical relevancy of the real estate crash, and the ending encourages the viewer to ponder what happens next. A voice on the radio promises “The worst has yet to come.” Could it really get any more graphic than this?

“Dream Home” pushes the limits of onscreen depictions of sex and violence way beyond your average Hong Kong movie, and just about any American horror film too (“Hostel” director Eli Roth may want to retire after watching this). Due to its sterile, computerized look, the violence may not have the impact that the filmmakers intended but Josie Ho certainly does. “Dream Home” is recommended for fans of extreme horror films; it is now streaming in HD on Netflix Instant.

HKFanatic’s Rating: 7/10

The post Dream Home (2010) Review first appeared on cityonfire.com.

“36th Chamber of Shaolin” Chinese Theatrical Poster

Director: Lau Kar-Leung
Writer: Ni Kuang
Cast: Gordon Liu, Lo Lieh, Lau Kar Wing, Wilson Tong, Wong Yu, Lee Hoi San, Henry Yu, Hon Gwok Choi, Wai Wang, Austin Wai, Aai Dung Gwa, Billy Chan, Peter Chan, Chan Shen, Chan Si Gaai, Cheung Chok Chow
Running Time: 115 min.

By JJ Hatfield

This film is far more than just another Shaolin monk tale. Several things combined to propel this movie into a much loved, oft quoted and frequently ripmaked film. The movie is also known as the Master Killer and Shaolin Master Killer for western audiences. I suppose the marketing geniuses thought the titles needed “killing” to be more lucrative. The translations do a disservice to the cast, crew and the story as it is not a vicious, savage, kill’em all movie.

Many people consider this a turning point for the director Chia-Liang Liu/Lau Kar-Leung as well as the star, Chia Hui Liu/Gordon Liu. “The 36th Chamber of Shaolin” was a breakthrough for the genre as well.

Martial arts movies at the time showed waning interest and both the director and the star could have used a boost to their respective careers. A different sort of film was called for and Kuang Ni did an excellent job with a seemingly simple tale of revenge, train, kick ass. It could have turned into a mediocre affair but Kuang Ni added a touch of humanity that sometimes was lacking in many old school kung fu films.

Chia-Liang Lui has always been known for his intense interest in making films rooted in Chinese history. There are more than a few stories about the revered Shaolin monk, San Te. However it is important to note this movie is not based on literal history, it is a work of fiction.

Kuang Ni is the writer and a very prolific one credited with over two hundred films including Eight Diagram Pole Fighter with Chia-Liang Liu (1984) , Feng Hou (1981), All Men Are Brothers – Guanzhong Luo wrote the novel, Kuang Ni is listed in several places as the sole writer but Chang Cheh is listed by some sources as co – writer. Considering the director of this film he no doubt added his own input.

The film is generally considered by the martial arts world as being one of the most absolute amazing kung fu movies ever made! Unlike many of those films this one deserves the credit.

San Te is a thoughtful young student who becomes increasingly involved in opposition to the Manchu government. Everyone is beginning to suffer terribly. The evil Manchu are trying to quietly take over an area of Canton. His friend and instructor tells him they must take action before all the civilians are murdered!

Chia Hui Lui brings genuine love of his family and people to the role. He is humble and a loyal friend. In a way this was a coming of age film for Chia Hui Lui.

During a brutal Manchu attack, San Te manages to escape and wants to go to Shaolin to devote himself to learning the martial arts in order to seek revenge and learn how to protect his people. But San Te was injured in the Manchu raid and is very ill. With help he does manage to get to Shaolin but not in the fighting shape he had planned. The monks at first refuse to let him stay there. If the enemy finds out they are harboring a criminal the monastery could be destroyed. Finally the chief Abbot shows mercy and lets San Te stay after he is healed and learn the ways of the thirty five chambers.

San Te is an eager student but still manages to get into trouble with his child like moments. Chia Hui Liu does seem to have a sense of endearing innocence about him at times. He is in great condition but not perfect and some of the chambers are a lot more difficult than they appear. There are also chambers you haven’t seen before and weapons rarely used on screen. There are plenty of reviews that will tell you every chamber and weapon used if you must know in advance. However it takes away from some of the surprises to be found at the Shaolin monastery.

I’m not going to spoil anything so you will have to watch this for yourself. And this is definitely a movie that demands more than one viewing!

As San Te progresses he is challenged to more than one fight by an elder monk. He has to use his brain more than brawn to defeat his opponent.

Nearly at the end of his education he is “exiled” as a way to allow him help his people. He is free to return to the world at large, primarily his home town and helps people learn how to defend themselves. The situation escalates until San Te must deal with the Manchu government to lead a revolution he is committed to in order to save his people and all who are oppressed.

This movie really shows Chia Hui Liu’s enormous talents! You do not get to see every single chamber, that movie would be days long. But you get to see quite a bit you probably haven’t seen before.

To the director’s credit there is virtually no invasive humor. What humor there is focuses primarily on San Te’s efforts to get through the chambers.

The cinematography (Yeh-Tai Huang, Arthur Wong) was very good for the fight scenes and Shaolin training . The music by Yung-Yu Chen is nothing special but works with the movie.

The 36th Chamber was such a success for the cast, crew, and Shaw Brothers it was decided to make a sequel entitled, “Return To The 36th Chamber” and yet a third, “Disciples Of The 36th Chamber.” Do not expect the same characters and names in the later films. The most important movie to focus on is the original.

Highly Recommended.

JJ Hatfield’s Rating: 8.5/10

By Numskull

Welcome to the Museum of Overrated Motion Pictures, everyone! My name is Numskull…well, that’s not my REAL name, of course, but, you know…and I’ll be your tour guide. If you’ll be kind enough to deposit some of your hard-earned money in the donation box so the security guard can steal it after visiting hours, we can begin.

Here’s our first exhibit: 36th Chamber of Shaolin, starring Gordon Liu, also known as Lau Ka Fai, and directed and choreographed by Liu Chia-Liang, whom many of you may know better as Lau Kar Leung, the man who directed most of Drunken Master 2 but got fired by Jackie Chan because he…meaning Liu…wanted the martial arts element to be more accurate than was customary for that film’s illustrious star.

Is there a question back there? The restrooms? They’re over there. Down the hall, on the left. You’re welcome.

This film is one of many from the period…1978, to be exact…that has multiple titles. It also goes by the names of “Master Killer” and “Shaolin Master Killer.” We believe that “36th Chamber of Shaolin” is the most appropriate title, however, since there comes a point when the lead character, San Te, proposes the institution of a 36th training chamber in the Shaolin Temple for the benefit of the general Chinese public. But I digress. To start things off…

I’m sorry? What’s that? Oh. That way. Down the hall, on the left. You’re welcome.

To start things off, there’s a secret revolution of sorts against the tyranny of the Manchus, and our hero enlists after watching his family and friends get brutally slaughtered. Not the most imaginative impetus, perhaps, but it serves, and many similarly-themed martial arts films followed. San Te manages to con his way into a sort of unofficial Shaolin scholarship, and… excuse me, young man, but we don’t permit museum patrons to touch the exhibits, especially patrons who have just finished jacking off to the Naked Killer display. Those ropes are there for a reason, you know.

San Te, for some reason, fails to mention his motivations to the temple elders until a whole year is passed, at which point he…

Yes? Oh. Down the hall, on the left. You’re welcome.

At which point he begins a series of grueling training sequences which, in many other kung fu films, would be replaced by fight scenes. 36th Chamber of Shaolin has the distinction of being one of the most, if not THE most training-intensive martial arts films of all time. Mind you, not ALL of the temple’s 35 chambers get their own sequence; that would make for an intolerably long movie.

Speaking of “long”, it seems that some of our guests are really taking their time in the restrooms. Can I have a volunteer to go and make sure everything is all right? Woah! I only need ONE volunteer! You there, why don’t you go? That’s correct, down the hall, on the left. Hurry back.

Where was I? Oh yes, the training chambers. Well, eventually, San Te completes the gamut, and the elders offer him the chance to become the overseer of any one chamber of his choice. Instead, he suggests a 36th chamber be opened so that people other than monks can learn Shaolin self-defense techniques. This proposal outrages the elders, who cast San Te out. From there, the film’s previously laborious pace accelerates drastically.

Huh? Oh, for…down the hall, on the left. Where all the others have gone.

So, San Te goes and starts fighting the Manchus, which is something the film has built up to for about an hour and a half. When all is said and done…

WHAT?!? Are you deaf?!? Down the fuckin’ hall, on the fuckin’ left. Yeah, you too, asshole.

After all I’ve done for this place, here’s where I end up; alone in front of a kung fu movie that’s almost all training sequences, behind glass, roped off, on a fuckin’ pedestal it doesn’t deserve, talking to myself. A tour guide without a tour group. A fine thing! Hey Mike, tell the boss I quit. I’m heading someplace where my skills will be appreciated!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Welcome to the Museum of Overrated Rock and Roll albums, everyone! My name is Numskull…well, that’s not my REAL name, of course, but, you know…and I’ll be your tour guide. If you’ll be kind enough to deposit some of your hard-earned money in the donation box so I won’t have to eat my shoes tomorrow, we can begin.

Here’s our first exhibit: The Dark Side of the Moon, by Pink Floyd. This 1973 release stayed on the Billboard charts for…

Pardon me? Oh. Down the hall, on the left. You’re welcome.

Numskull’s Rating: 5/10

By S!DM

One of the all-time great kung-fu movies, this one ranks up there with Enter the Dragon and Drunken Master 2. It’s almost perfect, has impeccable pacing, and great fighting also (what would you expect from a Shaw Brothers film?).

Lau Kar Leung (Liu Chia~Liang) directs this movie masterfully (Filmed in “Shaw Scope”! the film proclaims at the beginning) and makes good use of the colorful surroundings and interesting characters, the central of which is San Te, played by Gordon Liu. San Te is a young fellow who witnesses the killing of a Ming dynasty “rebel” at the hands of the evil Manchus. Being the young guy that he is, he goes and asks his teacher why there is no democracy and inadvertently joins his teacher and a choice few students in rebelling against the government. When the Manchus find out, they kill San Te’s family. San Te, wanting revenge, joins the Shaolin temple and stays for 7 years to learn kung fu from the temple’s existing 35 chambers. Some training sequences are hilarious, some serious, but all are classic.

My favorite chamber was the one in which the junior monks have to pound their heads on sand bags without getting dizzy…It’s very amusing. Well, after his servitude is up, he heads out of the temple and beats up his aggressors…every single one of them. After his anger is diminished, San Te heads back to the temple a hero, and founds his own chamber, the “36th Chamber of Shaolin.” This chamber is built to train anyone who wants to learn the formerly secretive art of Shaolin kung fu.

The only gripe I had was that the beginning of the film was unnecessarily long, but if you stick around, you will be treated to some of the finest kung fu ever filmed.

S!DM’s Rating: 10/10

The post 36th Chamber of Shaolin | aka Master Killer (1978) Review first appeared on cityonfire.com.

“Wing Chun” Chinese DVD Cover

Director: Yuen Woo Ping
Cast: Michelle Yeoh, Donnie Yen, Kingdom Yuen King Tan, Waise Lee Chi-hung, Catherine Hung Yan, Norman Chu, Tsui Ah Fai, Chui Heung Tung, Cheng Pei Pei
Running Time: 91 min.

By Numskull

In this Yuen Wo-Ping/Michelle Yeoh collaboration, Yeoh is THE Wing Chun, a woman who (in this film, at least) wears mens’ clothing and runs a tofu business with her aunt Abacus (played by a very animated Yuen King Tan). Because scoundrels everywhere hatch plots to disturb the peace on a daily basis, she uses a highly defensive, “brainy” fighting style to humiliate male chauvinist pig after male chauvinist pig without really hurting them. How accurate the choreography in this movie is with regard to Wing Chun as it’s known today I don’t know, but the point that it’s a “gentle” martial art with emphasis placed on restricting your opponent’s capacity to attack you is gotten across sufficiently. This is evinced by bits like Wing Chun luring her foe into a small shed where his big, unwieldy spear is of little value (I’m sure someone will see a phallic symbol in that…read on), while she, armed with a pair of short swords, is able to peck away at him at her leisure.

Action films with female leads aren’t always guilty of “I’m a woman in a man’s world and I’ve got something to prove so all of you pig-headed men had better stay out of my way if you don’t want a severe verbal and/or physical bitch-slapping” syndrome, but this one is. When the men aren’t drooling over the young widow Charmy and going to ridiculous lengths to catch a glimpse of 0.02 square inches of exposed flesh near her rib cage, most of them are making fun of the way Wing Chun dresses or rallying behind some dickhead who challenges her by saying “When it comes to fighting, men are always superior to women” or some such malarkey, because they’re too chicken shit to try it themselves.

Here’s a sample of what to expect:

ABACUS: “Men are disgusting.”

CHARMY: “I know, they really are disgusting.”

ABACUS: “Yeah.”

Wow, that really brings an unprecedented amount of intellectualism to the whole battle of the sexes issue, doesn’t it? Fortunately, the fight scenes are the main attraction here, not the Lifetime talk show-style dialogue. They’re choreographed well enough, and the wire shit is kept to a bearable level, but, alas, the undercranking is not.

For those who don’t know (or, if EVERYONE knows, then just to waste space): Undercranking is the process of filming something…typically a fight or action sequence…with the camera recording at a higher-than-normal speed, so that when the footage is played at a normal rate, it looks like things are happening faster than they really did (or CAN). When used with moderation and care, undercranking is forgivable…perhaps even unnoticeable. But, with the extent that it’s used in parts (but, fortunately, not all) of Wing Chun’s fight scenes (the movie’s, not the character’s), it looks utterly ridiculous. Seeing a guy perform multiple backflips just isn’t as impressive when he does them all in about as much time as it takes to sneeze. Why Hong Kong film makers ever thought that using this technique so excessively was a good idea is one of those questions that just can’t be answered in a satisfactory manner. A pox on undercranking! I curse the day it was ever devised.

The choreography, at least, is nothing to scoff at, so we are by no means talking about a total loss here. Michelle Yeoh, for her part, turns in a great performance as usual, projecting solemn heroism without losing her feminine touch. An actress of less maturity probably would have given us nothing but arrogant, “you go girl” in-your-face-ness. There is a weepy back story to her ass-kicking, but it’s of little significance.

One of Michelle’s best movies. Of course, she’s been in a fair amount of so-so stuff, and one or two pieces of absolute crap, but still, let’s not take it away from her.

Numskull’s Rating: 7/10

By Klotera

Wing Chun is a film that does some things well and some poorly. Its general story and plot revolving around the bandits is kinda generic and boring. The comedy, while quite good at some points (particularly coming from Wing Chun’s loud-mouth aunt), also gets cheesy and downright annoying at times. On the other hand, you’ve got an interesting sub-plot involving three women with different views on men coming together, and Wing Chun dealing with her femininity. And, of course, Michelle Yeoh gets to kick some major ass. It’s Yuen Woo Ping’s trademark wire-fu, in the tradition of Iron Monkey – so if you like that, you’ll love the fighting here. One particular scene, where Wing Chun must prevent a man from chopping some tofu, is particularly memorable.

Overall – it is a solid film that most martial arts film fans will enjoy. But, the aforementioned flaws in the plot and comedy bring the film down.

Klotera’s Rating: 7/10

The post Wing Chun (1994) Review first appeared on cityonfire.com.

“The Dragon Missile” Hong Kong DVD Cover

AKA: The Guillotine
Director: Ho Meng Hua
Producer: Runme Shaw
Cast: Lo Lieh, Nancy Yen, Lau Wing, Ku Feng, Kong Yeung, Lau Wai-Yue, Lee Sau-Kei, Ouyang Shafei, Norman Chu, Yeung Chi-Hing, Fan Mei-Sheng, Chan Mei-Hua, Kok Lee-Yan, Lai Man, Wang Han-Chen, Ko Hung
Running Time: 82 min.

By Mighty Peking Man

It’s been over a year since I’ve watched The Dragon Missile, so instead of writing a review based on weak memory, let me give you a quick rundown to why I think you NEED to see this movie before you die:

1. It’s directed by Hoh Mung Wa (Killer Darts, Vengeance Is A Golden Blade) – He’s the ‘other’ Shaw Brothers filmmaker who doesn’t get as much credit as Chang Cheh and those others guys. I’ve seen a handful of his movies and he has yet to to disappoint. In some ways, it wouldn’t be totally out of line to say he’s THE most entertaining Shaw Brothers director ever. Yeah, that’s what I said.

2. It’s one whimsical film – Colorful, in more ways than one. It’s interesting and keeps you in check the whole time. The plot doesn’t take itself so seriously, yet we have no nonsense villains (Lo Lieh) doing their no nonsense, double-crossing sh*t. I remember the plot being something Quentin Tarantino would be proud of. Silly, yet straight to the point, and brutal.

3. The weapons that are showcased are fun to watch – This shouldn’t come to any surprise, considering it’s coming from the guy who made a movie called The Flying Guillotine. Here, we get a pair razor sharp boomerangs which are impossible to escape. Effects may be cheesy, but hey, this is why I like old school Shaw Brothers shit more than James Cameron’s blue cock.

4. Features a solid cast – Lo Lieh (if you don’t know who he is, then don’t even worry about it); Lau Wing (aka Tony Liu, aka the Big Boss’s son from the Bruce Lee movie of the same name), who I wish was in a lot more movies. He’s a charming cat, but sadly, he’s going to be stuck as “that one guy in the Bruce Lee movies” forever. There are some other recognizable cast members, but I just suck at names, so forgive me…

The Dragon Missile (what an awesome title!) is one hell of a hidden gem that shouldn’t be missed. Get off your ass and order it, you’ll thank me for it.

Well Go USA®, FUNimation®, Dragon Dynasty®, Image®… are you guys listening?

Mighty Peking Man’s Rating: 9/10

The post Dragon Missile, The (1976) Review first appeared on cityonfire.com.

“Mighty Peking Man” International Theatrical Poster

AKA: Goliathon
Director: Ho Meng-Hua
Cast: Danny Lee, Evelyne Kraft, Hang-Sheng Wu, Hsu Shao-Chiang, Ku Feng, Lin Wei-Tu, Chen Cheng-Feng, Alexander Grand, Lee Sau Kei, Wong Pau Gei
Running Time: 86 min.

By Gwailo

It’s a must-see oddity from the Shaw Brothers, starring a young Danny Lee, made around the same time as his equally campy Ultraman. A direct rip-off of the King Kong/Godzilla genre gone totally berserk. Now that it’s widely available on Quentin Tarantino’s Rolling Thunder label, this should grace every HK cinema collection.

If you need a no subtitle flick to wind down a drunken evening, this is it. Special effects are just that…special. These and the hokey props and locales are beautifully realized, expected, and more than welcome. Listen to the sound a boulder makes as it bounces of The Mighty Peking Man’s chest. Hilarious. See a leopard’s huge scrotum hang over an always scantily clad Evelyn Kraft’s shoulder as she spins (!?) around with him on her back!!! Laugh till you cry at the thought of a 5 passenger plane flying over the Himalayans!

I saw this gem of a movie on the revival circuit a few years back. The hands down best time I have ever had in a movie theater. In a word… wonderful!

Gwailo’s Rating: 9/10

By Alvin George

A Hong KoIn 1977, a year after Paramount released their critically-reviled remake of the classic “King Kong” (featuring a scraggly-looking Jeff Bridges and a young Jessica Lange), the Shaw Brothers put out their own version of the legend, calling the beast “Mighty Peking Man.” Sure, the dubbing is bad. Sure, the special effects are bad. (You can tell it’s a guy in an ape suit, and that the cars Mighty Peking Man stomps on are obviously models.) However, this film is a lot more fun to watch than all those stupid “serious” flicks Jackie Chan made with Lo Wei. Heck, it’s even more fun than “Godzilla 1985,” the movie where a model-animated Godzilla moved a lot more stiffly than the beast in this movie.

How can you go wrong with a movie that prominently features a lovely Daryl Hannah lookalike who runs around wearing nothing but animal skin? The extended scene where she makes out with Danny Lee (complete with a sappy sitar-driven song on the soundtrack) is the most ’70s love-making scene I have seen since Jimmy Wang Yu made love to an Australian cutie pie in “The Man From Hong Kong.” Too bad both the girl and the ape get exploited by some stupid idiot. I got mad when the bastard tried to rape the girl. (She may be a dumb blonde, but she’s not THAT dumb!) Like King Kong, Mighty Peking Man isn’t really an evil creature; he’s just trying to protect the girl, obeying her every command. If you are in the mood for something that won’t tax your brain cells much, then you’ll go ape over “Mighty Peking Man.”

Alvin George’s Rating: 7.5/10

By Mighty Peking Man

Fun. That’s what this movie is. Pure fun. A really, and I mean REALLY, obvious rip-off of “King Kong,” only better. A very young Danny Lee (yep, the same guy from “The Killer”) ventures into the jungle to track down a big ass ape. He captures and befriends it with the help of a sexy amazon chick (Evelyne Kraft). They fall in love (Lee and Kraft that is!) and both return to Hong Kong where all hell breaks loose as the ape runs wild!

This is the only PG-13 (that’s what it’s rated on Quentin Tarantino’s Rolling Thunder label) film I’ve ever seen where a female nipple is flashed every 15-minutes or so, not to mention a few butt shots; So kids, this IS the PG-13 film to see if you want some fast nudity!

The most hilarious moment comes during a slow-motion, romantic scene accompanied by a silly love song. I’ll watch this over any “King Kong” or “Godzilla” flick any day!

Mighty Peking Man’s Rating: 8/10

The post Mighty Peking Man | aka Colossus of Congo (1977) Review first appeared on cityonfire.com.

“The Flying Guillotine” Chinese Theatrical Poster

Director: Ho Meng Hua
Producer: Runme Shaw
Cast: Chen Kuan Tai, Ku Feng, Wai Wang, Kong Yeung, Liu Wu Chi, Ai Ti, Lin Wei-Tu, Wang Yu, Li Peng-Fei, Li Shou-Chi, Lu Wei, Lin Feng, Shen Lao, Chiang Ling, Wu Chin-Chin, Hsu Kuan-Ying, Lei Lung, Ho Han-Chou
Running Time: 101 min.

By Joe909

Flying Guillotine is not a kung fu movie. Tell yourself that before watching it, and you might not be let down, because those expecting an old-school basher are going to be disappointed. Flying Guillotine is more of a historical epic with horror and kung fu overtones. The producers take the campy material and for the most part play it straight; therefore, this movie is about as far as you can get from a Chang Cheh piece.

Chen Kuan-Tai is among a squad of elite commandos chosen by the emperor to master the flying guillotine, a new killing device, which was created by the emperor’s adjutant, Ku Feng. The movie almost takes on aspects of a war film, as we see the men in a boot camp environment, going through drills. Here friendships and rivalries bloom; particularly, a nasty feud develops between Chen, the top soldier, and Frankie Wai, who unbeknownst to the others is a spy for the emperor.

Eventually the squad is sent out on a few assassination missions, each of which take place in the dead of night, the commandos in their cool black uniforms running silently across rooftops. Kuan-Tai soon realizes that the men they’re killing are all high-ranking, respected officials who have dared to speak out against the emperor. The bastard is using the squad to quietly rub out all those who disrespect him. When a fellow squad member figures this out, and also how omniscient the emperor seems to be, he freaks out, and it’s only a matter of time until he becomes a squad target. Frankie Wai meanwhile sets Chen up to be the next victim of the squad, intimating to the emperor that he’s a traitor. Chen is informed of this by a fellow squad member still smart enough to question his superiors, and so Chen gets the hell out of town.

While on the run, he encounters a young, attractive street performer, who helps him evade his cronies, who are now in pursuit. In one of those life-changing decisions characters make without a second’s thought in old-school movies, Chen decides to marry this girl and run off into the woods with her, to live out a life of anonymity. Crazy thing is, it actually works, and they get several months of peace. We catch up with them, living in a small farming community, on the night Chen’s wife is about to give birth. In a great dramatic twist, a few of Chen’s former teammates finally locate him, and launch an attack while his wife’s giving birth. Chen takes them on in fury, barely escaping their guillotines.

Chen and his wife and new son move off again, and this time they actually get two whole years of respite. The squad continues to hunt him, more determined than ever. In particular, Frankie Wai wants him dead. The squad member who warned him earlier is the first to find Chen, and tells him all that’s happened in the past two years. While they’re talking, Frankie Wai sneaks up, tears the dude’s head off with his guillotine, and gets in a quick fight with Chen before running away.

Sending his family off, Chen goes to a blacksmith and devises a weapon to counteract the guillotine. Basically, it’s a metal umbrella. Mere moments after a couple prototypes are created, Chen’s attacked by a few squad members. The umbrella proves effective, but he’s able to get hold of a guillotine himself, and proves fatally to his former mates that he’s just as deadly with them as ever. Now the stage is set for a final standoff between Chen and Frankie Wai, the last squad member standing.

The Flying Guillotine pays more attention to plot, character interaction, and drama than your normal old-school movie. In many ways, this film resembles something from director Liu Chia-Liang, except that whereas Liu generally avoided having carbon cut-out villains in his film, director Hoh Mung-Wa makes Frankie Wai and the emperor pure evil. You love to hate both of these guys, and they both pull off their roles well. Chen Kuan-Tai is the emotional heart of the movie, and it’s refreshing to see a kung fu film with a hero who’s more concerned about his wife and child than his honor. Lau Ng-Kei, who plays Chen’s wife, is also great throughout, able to provide spunk, as in the scene in which she sidetracks the squad members searching for Chen, as well as scenes of heartbreaking emotion. Ku Feng is, as always, great in his role, making his nervous character worthy of both hate and pity.

The violence level is high, although there isn’t that much blood. Tons of people are beheaded, and usually all we see is the corpse flopping around afterwards, legs kicking spasmodically. It’s pure camp fun. Costuming is impeccable, but instead of the Chang Cheh-type kung fu garb, everyone wears more traditional and historically-accurate Ching-era wardrobe. The sets are the usual Shaw Brothers impressive, especially the outdoor scenes of the city during the nighttime raids. What little kung fu that’s featured unfortunately isn’t that great, falling squarely into the “clumsy” category.

Flying Guillotine was a huge success, and plans were instantly formed for a sequel. However, problems arose between Hoh Mung-Wa and the Shaws, which resulted in him leaving the project, as well as the majority of the actors in this film. Ti Lung stepped in to take over Chen Kuan-Tai’s role, and Ku Feng took over the role of the emperor. But that’s a story for another review.

Joe909’s Rating: 7/10

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