“Iron Angels” Japanese Poster

Director: Teresa Woo San
Cast: Saijo Hideki, Elaine Lui, Yukari Oshima, Alex Fong Chung Sun, David Chiang, Hwang Jang Lee, Peter Yang Kwan, Wang Hsieh, Lam Chung, Chiang Tao
Running Time: 93 min. 

By Z Ravas

I can’t say this period of history has many consolations for those of us living through it, but getting to experience obscure Hong Kong action films via terrific looking and sounding boutique Blu-ray releases is most assuredly one of them. The first time I saw Iron Angels, it was on a crappy Region 0 DVD that I ordered off of Ebay; I say ‘crappy’ mostly because the disc kept skipping during the final twenty minutes of the movie. (If you’ve seen Iron Angels, you know some of the film’s best action is crammed into the final twenty minutes. You don’t want to miss that part!). What a difference a few years make: now I have the privilege of watching Iron Angels with a pristine hi-definition transfer, courtesy of Vinegar Syndrome.

And if you’re unfamiliar with this series, it’s absolutely worth springing for Syndrome’s recent 3-film box set. The first film ranks up there alongside Royal Warriors and She Shoots Straight as one of the finest examples of that Hong Kong subgenre fondly remembered as Girls with Guns. The movie has the brilliant idea to ask, ‘What if Charlie’s Angels were co-ed and Charlie was played by Shaw Brothers legend David Chiang?’ The story opens with a sequence that could mislead you into thinking you’re in for a military-themed actioner, as the Thai army unleashes machine guns and flamethrowers on a massive opium-harvesting operation in the Golden Triangle. Back in Hong Kong, a lead subordinate of the drug operation—played by Japanese martial artist Yukari Oshima—swears revenge and begins targeting various Interpol agents around the globe. With their backs to the wall, the Hong Kong police decide to enlist the help of the mercenary service known as the Angels.

And you really don’t need much more justification than that to string along 90 minutes of go-for-broke Hong Kong action, though the film has a capable cast to lean on. The Angels are led by Hideki Saijo, an actor primarily known for his singing career in Japan (he did a chart-topping cover of the “Y.M.C.A.”) but who comes across as a tough martial artist here; Moon Lee, a veritable icon in the Girls with Guns genre thanks to her appearances in films like Fatal Termination and Devil Hunters;  and Elaine Lui Siu-Ling, who would go on to co-star in fan favorite Hong Kong titles like The Bride with White Hair and The Red Wolf.

I have to single out Elaine Lui Siu-Ling in particular because at first you assume her role is kind of the party girl of the trio, you know, the gal with big hair who’s more into her wardrobe than taking the mission seriously—but about halfway through the film, her character makes a sharp pivot, diving into battle while strapped with grenades and bullet clips like a pint-sized Rambo. Elaine Lui totally sells you on the transition too, displaying a wealth of onscreen moxie. It’s one of the greatest examples of the Hidden Badass trope that I can recall seeing.

Director Teresa Woo Ann is immediately interesting as one of the only women filmmakers in the Hong Kong action space during this time. I should note that Raymond Leung and Ivan Lai are also sometimes listed as co-directors or Executive Directors on the film, but Woo would seem to be the driving creative force behind this project, having also served as producer and sole credited screenwriter. The action is attributed to the great Tony Leung Siu-Hung (Bloodmoon, Ip Man) and it’s undeniably spectacular stuff, despite the obviously thrifty budget, including a sequence where Hideki Saijo is hanging from a helicopter’s ladder as he fires his machine gun into a McMansion’s worth of bad guys. (As an example of the budgetary limitations: expect liberal use of stunt dummies for some scenes). The final clash between Moon Lee and Yukari Oshima is brief—in fact, I don’t think it’s much longer than a minute or so—but the two combatants go at each other with such ferocity that their bout has rightly become the stuff of legend.

There’s a short list of the top Hong Kong action movies of the 1980’s, the ones that a casual viewer can sample to get a feel for the genre and witness the industry operating at its peak; no doubt well-known titles like Righting Wrongs and In the Line of Duty IV would have to be on there, but I could imagine making a case for Iron Angels as well. While it’s not quite as technically polished as what filmmakers like John Woo and Yuen Woo-ping were producing at this time, when it’s firing on all cylinders, the movie delivers some of the most electrifying action of its decade.

Z Ravas’ Rating: 9/10

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“The One-Armed Swordsmen” Theatrical Poster

Director: Jimmy Wang Yu
Co-director: David Chiang
Cast: Jimmy Wang Yu, David Chiang, Lo Lieh, Chang Yi, Liu Meng Yan, Han Ying Chieh, Lung Fei
Running Time: 109 min. 

By Ian Whittle

Given Jimmy Wang Yu’s legendary bad behaviour on sets, and David Chiang’s long feud with Ti Lung, I’d love to have been on the set of this Wang/Chiang team-up, which they produced, directed and starred in.

The plot, written by Ku Lung, is a wacky “mystery” involving a mysterious one-armed man killing a policeman (Chang Yi). Naturally, since legendary one-armed swordsmen Fong Ping (Wang Yu) and Lei Lee (David Chiang) both show up in town, both ordering ludicrously enormous meals at the taverns, they are suspect – not helping matters is the fact that the only witness to the crime is an especially dumb kid! Lo Lieh, as Hua The Fox, is gloating and manipulating from the side-lines and gets most of the film’s best lines.

“Right, great fighting…good kung fu, good advice!”

“The One Armed Swordsmen having a fight…this is something one really shouldn’t miss! Yes…the fight of a lifetime! “

“You should realise by now that I am a very devious and extremely tricky fella…hence my nickname!”

For shear fun, I had a great time with this. It’s very silly but has a lot of energy. On the other hand it’s not what I would call GOOD –  the action scenes are rather perfunctory (understandable given the literal limitations placed on the stars), and the overly complicated plot relies too heavily on convoluted mysteries. I’ve seen this film quite a few times over the years, and I still have no idea who the mysterious and masked Brother Dragon is supposed to be!

The two stars are amusingly yin and yang: Wang Yu overplaying his Clint Eastwood impression so monotonously his dubber has to speak in slow motion (and a New York accent), whilst David Chiang is lively and entertaining as usual. Besides Lo, we get antagonistic support from Han Ying Chieh (as an innkeeper with a deadly abacus), some looney ghost bandits, Lung Fei and San Mao (as Shaolin monks) and our mystery villain, who gets a final death speech that, thanks to the OTT voice acting of Ted Thomas,  is really hilarious – the perfect combination of Shakespeare and Scooby Doo villainous send-offs.

Oh, and just so you know: Only the good die young!

Ian Whittle’s Rating: 5/10

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“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

The post Jade Dynasty (2019) Review first appeared on cityonfire.com.

“Duel of Fists” Chinese Theatrical Poster

Director: Chang Cheh
Producer: Runme Shaw
Cast: David Chiang, Ti Lung, Cheng Lee, Guk Fung, Chan Sing, Cheng Miu, Wong Chung, Yeung Chi Hing, Yuen Wo Ping, Yen Shi-Kwan, Yuen Shun-Yi, Yuen Cheung Yan, Chan Chuen, Lau Laan Ying, Tong Dik
Running Time: 102 min.

By JJ Hatfield

In 1971 Chang Cheh took Ti Lung and David Chiang to Thailand to film a Muay Thai boxing tournament movie/travelogue. That may not be the Shaw Brothers description, but it’s accurate. It might have worked as one or the other, but the mix is annoying, tiresome, and a waste of talent.

A young up and coming engineer and martial arts expert learns a long-hidden secret at his father’s deathbed. Before he passes father informs son he once had an affair with a woman in Thailand which produced a male child. With only vague clues to follow the loyal son sets off to find his Muay Thai fighting brother as it was his father’s dying wish. By the time the long-lost brother is discovered, he is in a fight for his life.

David Chiang (The New One-Armed Swordsman) is Fan Ke, the dutiful son who exchanges his suit, tie, and glasses for brightly colored early 70’s polyester threads while he searches for his brother Wen Lieh played by Ti Lung (The Pirate). Fan Ke finds a ditzy date (Pawana Chanajit), and they promptly forget about searching for his brother and go sightseeing around Bangkok instead. Meanwhile, Wen Lieh is discovering the reality of being a Muay Thai fighter with less than ethical associates. He has risen to a position of being a top fighter in Thailand only to learn his talent and skills in the ring may not be enough to win the tournament or keep him alive. When Wen Lieh is not fighting, he spends time with his girlfriend, Yu Lan (Ching Li) who is teary-eyed for most of the movie.

The primary cause of Yu Lan’s weeping is Cannon the killer Muay Thai boxer. Cannon (Ku Feng) will fight Wen Lieh for the championship. Despite Yu Lan’s pleas Wen Lieh has no intention of quitting because this is a Chang Cheh movie and real men never back down even if they are about to be served their heads. That and Wen Lieh must fight because he needs the money for… well it is such an original idea I don’t want to give it away.

Too often the camera is trained on Chiang and his hyper-happy girlfriend pretending to look at a well-known tourist spot. I could understand if Chang wanted to include the brothers going to a temple to offer incense for their deceased father, but the travelogue episodes were like having to watch your neighbor’s home movies of their summer vacation. Momentum was lost, and so was the film.

Muay Thai boxing received respectful treatment by Lau Kar Leung and Tong Gaai when the fighting was in the squared circle. Ti Lung and Ku Feng are passable as Muay Thai boxers. Editing creates the illusion that the actors are performing extensive Muay Thai boxing pre-fight rituals and bouts. However, the two are on-screen less than it appears. In contrast to the two men ‘dueling’, the fights that occur outside the ring are chaotic brawling with multiple opponents. Neither style produces much in the way of memorable matches.

Duel of Fists should have focused on Muay Thai boxing and the search for the brother story. The two female characters were wasted (and Chanajit may have been wasted on something). The travelogue should never have been used in an action film. The two stars do not exert themselves acting, and I think Chang was off enjoying the sites as there is little sign of his direction.

The only reason I ranked Duel of Fists as high as I did was that it is one of the first movies to have a tournament as the focus of the film as well as being one of the first to showcase Muay Thai boxing.

There are many excellent movies with the “Iron Triangle,” and most offer better action than Duel of Fists. If you are working your way through Chang Cheh, Ti Lung or David Chiang movies save Duel of Fists for later. This one barely kicks a 6/10.

JJ Hatfield’s Rating: 6/10

The post Duel of Fists | aka Fist Attack (1971) Review first appeared on cityonfire.com.

“From Vegas to Macau 3” Chinese Theatrical Poster

Director: Andrew Lau
Co-director: Wong Jing
Co-director: Billy Chung
Cast: Chow Yun-fat, Andy Lau, Nick Cheung, Li Yuchun, Jacky Cheung, Carina Lau, Charles Heung, Shawn Yue, Psy, Angela Wang, Jacky Heung, Michelle Hu, David Chiang, Law Kar-ying, Kimmy Tong, Yuen Qiu, Elena Kong
Running Time: 112 min.

By Martin Sandison

The first two movies in the From Vegas to Macau trilogy were a revelation for Hong Kong cinema fans: immensely entertaining, laugh out loud funny and filled to the brim with well-choreographed action. They also managed to capture the feel and tone of the golden age, without seeming over-referential. I was surprised to see the third installment was coming out in UK cinemas in time for Chinese New Year, as I caught its trailer before seeing Ip Man 3 (which, by the way, had the best end-fight out of all three films!).

The trailer for From Vegas to Macau 3 piqued my fancy – after all, the film reunites Chow Yun Fat and Andy Lau for the first time since the original God of Gamblers; it also features Jacky Cheung, Carina Lau and Nick Cheung. Any Hong Kong cinema fan would be salivating over the prospect of so much talent in one film, myself included. If you don’t come out of this movie disappointed, there’s something seriously wrong. I mean seriously.

The first two managed to squeeze in a lot of set pieces, with threadbare plots, but tight narratives. The plot line for From Vegas to Macau 3 manages to be one of the most unoriginal and least interesting films I have ever seen; it’s not even worth summing up in a sentence. So I won’t.

The middle section of the film features Chow, Lau and the two Cheungs sharing the most screen time – even Law Kar Ying makes a reasonably amusing appearance. The funniest running joke appears here as Chow wakes thinking he is Zhang Wu Ji, the main character of the Louis Cha martial art novel Heaven Sword and Dragon Sabre. There is even a cut to an old movie, based on the novel, that I didn’t recognise featuring Shek Kin. It’s humurous, but aimed very much at Asian audiences. Despite this, every scene features more and more complete nonsense, and none of it is funny.

From Vegas to Macau and From Vegas to Macau II got serious laughs for their in-jokes and respect for what had gone before; Part III only has perhaps two laugh out loud moments. The calibre of onscreen stars promise so much and deliver so little, with especially Chow and Lau’s interchanges being flat and without merit. Jacky Cheung also seems disinterested and there for the money, which is a shame as his appearances recently have been dwindling in Hong Kong movies.

In an earlier part of the film, Chow is imprisoned and there is a huge song and dance number, which supplies a little entertainment, but is ultimately unsatisfying. Credit must be given to Wong Jing for pulling out all the stops in terms of the cast, as here Maria Cordero, the wonderful Macau-born singer, appears as the prison warden while the cast belts out her famous song “The Light of Friendship” from the classic Ringo Lam-directed and Chow-starring Prison on Fire. I’ll never forget her songs from the latter, City on Fire and Tiger on the Beat. It’s too bad the over-referential and inept nature of the film ruins these legendary appearances.

The filmmaking is poor and derivative, with no excitement to be gleaned from its over reliance on crappy CGI and incoherent action. This brings me to my biggest gripe concerning the film: the action. Despite their quick turnaround, the first two had high quality and well executed gunplay and martial arts. This one substitutes the clear and nicely cut approach of the first two with lazy angles, incredibly short sequences and terrible CGI.

Also, the sets are made to be destroyed, and would look at home in a straight-to-DVD sci-fi movie from the 90’s. In terms of martial arts action, there are two scenes with Jacky Heung Cho taking over the screen fighting. He is the son of Charles Heung, the famous producer and supposed Triad affiliate (I’m sure you guys know all the stories) who also has a cameo in the film. Both fights are over before they begin, and have no fulfillment whatsoever. The ending features Transfomers-esque machines battling, and is really an embarrassment with obsolete effects.

My friend who accompanied me to see From Vegas to Macau 3 told me he read a review of the first two wondering why Chow was ‘lowering himself’ to be in such movies. In my mind, he’s Chow Yun Fat. He can do whatever he wants. Plus, I think it’s cool to see him cutting loose and enjoying himself in the later part of his career. However, all the cast and crew in From Vegas to Macau 3 are probably thinking: what a complete waste of an opportunity, and a testament to the unfortunate trappings of a franchise. Look at Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines.

There are two scenes that I enjoyed despite this, both featuring gambling. The first is the game of Mah Jong with Yuen Qiu reprising her role as the landlady from Kung Fu Hustle; as well as Lo Hoi Pang, the great character actor from movies as diverse as Sammo’s Iron Fisted Monk and Johnnie To’s PTU. As they play, they sing Sam Hui’s “The Mahjong Heroes,” a masterful 1976 recording from the multi talented actor and singer. The poker game later in the film features the ubiqitous South Korean singer Psy, and it’s a kick to see him and Chow share the screen.

I love Chow Yun Fat. He’s my favourite actor (he has made so many movies that it’s hard to keep up with them all though!). Even he cannot save this mess of a film. One thing about From Vegas to Macau III that did cheer me up was in the end credits, which featured outtakes of the cast having a whale of a time; to be honest, more power to them – they’ve all worked on some of the greatest movies ever made. But if you love these actors, you’re better off not seeing this film.

Martin Sandison’s Rating: 3/10

The post From Vegas to Macau III (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.

"The King of Fists and Dollars" Chinese Theatrical Poster

AKA: Challenge of the Shaolin Disciples
Director: Chen Ming-Hua
Writer: Chen Ming-Hua
Cast: Michael Chan Wai Man, Pearl Chang Ling, Cheng Lui, David Chiang Da Wei, Chiu Hung, Choi Wang, Fang Mien, Danny Lee Sau Yin, Li Chao, Mark Long Kwan Wu, Ma Cheung, Siu Foo Dau, Weng Hsiao Hu, Kong Yeung
Running Time: 97 min.

By Martin Sandison

In the late 70’s Taiwanese kung fu movies were going strong, and many Hong Kong movie stars made the short trek to star in them. One such legend was David Chiang, he of the first wave of early 70’s Shaw Brothers classics, such as The Heroic Ones, Blood Brothers and Vengeance. By 1979 he was much in demand and took the lead in King of Fists and Dollars, his first starring role in a Tiawanese production. The production values are noticeably seriously inferior to Shaw Brothers, but that doesn’t stop the movie being fun and a little different from your standard fare. In line with Terracotta Distribution’s other releases, this movie is pretty rare and in the best shape possible without a remaster.

Chiang plays Lu Tang, who is looking for the Iron Fist King Tuan (Chiu Hung) to teach him the style. Chiang here is cast against type as the typical underdog character, which is a refreshing change. Interestingly, there are concurrent narratives that intertwine as the film progresses. Usually in old school movies this is done rather poorly, here there is clarity and decent writing. The other narrative features Lord Chien (Danny Lee) who is a tyrant and mistreats the local townsfolk, who turn to Tuan for help. Lord Chien hires Hung Ying (Chan Wai Man) to deal with him.

The cast is very strong, with Chiang being the main focus but plenty of screen time given to the others. Danny Lee is suitably menacing as Chien, at a time when he was appearing in a lot of independent productions. It’s very interesting to see him in this type of role, mainly because he performs a lot of the martial arts scenes with minimal use of a double. The one obvious use of a double is beautifully done as Lee performs a sequence of moves, and as the camera tracks behind a stove the double comes out and does a few flips, before seamlessly transitioning back to Lee.

Chiu Hung is on point with his skills as Tuan, in one of his last roles. He appeared in numerous 60’s Shaw Brothers productions including The One Armed Sworsdman, and moved on to Golden Harvest movies such as the wonderful Broken Oath later. A straight rip off from the chambara classic, Lady Snowblood, that film is one of the few at the time to outdo the source material.

Chan Wai Man graces any movie he appears in, and gets a role here that he can really get his teeth in to, with minimal dialogue and intense action. In the same year he was in The Deadly Breaking Sword and Blood Treasury Fight, which proves his undoubted calibre. Cheng Lui has a small but pertinent part as Tuan’s mute student, and despite his bulk hindering his speed, delivers some good martial arts chops. The dramatic potential of his character is used well here. Cheng was one of the first actors to appear in the important 60’s Shaw films, and became one of the “Five Tigers” alongside Jimmy Wang Yu.

The real surprise of the cast is Pearl Cheung as Ying Er, Tuan’s student. She became infamous for her later self directed films, especially the hilarious cult camp classic Wolf Devil Woman, which I watched recently and enjoyed immensely – somebody has to release and remaster that one. Her most recognizable role was in Jimmy Wang Yu’s Fantasy Mission Force with Jackie Chan (Jackie owed Jimmy a favour) as one of the crazy female warriors. Here, her kung fu technique is exemplary, especially when she does the Iron Fist form.

The action is choreographed by a few different film makers, being lead by Ga Hoi, he of the John Liu masterwork Mar’s Villa and one of the choreographers on Shanghai 13. Weng Hsiao Hu has the second credit, mainly an actor who was in lots of old schoolers, including Jackie Chan’s New Fist of Fury. Unfortunately the action varies in quality, which is a real shame because there is some excellent stuff in there.

The first fight features two of Chien’s fighters and despite being very short, is ahead of its time in terms of hand exchanges and editing. The use of wirework for some of the fancier moves is tasteful also. Chan Wai Man’s first fight is slow and static, and his fights get better as the film goes on, especially the one with Chiu Hung. A lot of the time the handwork veers between adrenaline pumping and too deliberate, which is very frustrating. Also unheard of in a film of the time with this standard of film makers, some of the hits don’t connect. Come on. Seriously. The end fight is suitably exciting and features Pearl Cheung and Chiang going at it with Danny Lee, with some extra long takes and cool flipping.

The director, screenwriter and producer of the film is Chen Ming Hua, who had a short lived career but also directed Pearl Cheung in My Blade My Life. He shows an assured hand at narrative cohesion and the dramatic characterisation of a formulaic genre, but the action lets this impressive approach down. The film is certainly worth checking out for a lot reasons – just don’t expect top quality.

Martin Sandison’s Rating: 7/10

The post King of Fists and Dollars, The (1979) Review first appeared on cityonfire.com.

“Shanghai 13” Chinese Theatrical Poster

Director: Chang Cheh
Cast: Chiang Ming, Ti Lung, Cheng Tien Chi, David Chiang, Lee Chung Yat, Chi Kuan Chun, Wong Ching, Chiang Sheng, Leung Kar Yan, Lu Feng, Chai Kai, Chan Sing, Chen Kuan-tai, Cheung Taai Lun, Jue Hoi Ling, Andy Lau, Danny Lee, Jimmy Wang Yu, Wang Chung, Clement Yeh
Running Time: 85 min.

By Martin Sandison

The great Chang Cheh – one of the most revered, prolific and revolutionary directors of all time – created some of the greatest innovative kung fu movies. By 1984 he was 60, and was considering retirement. To fund this, he made one of the most ridiculously action- packed and star-packed kung fu films of all time: Shanghai 13. With a veritable smorgasbord of action stars from the classic Shaw Brothers era, this is cinematic heaven. Made in Taiwan on a pretty small budget, Chang virtually started most of the stars of the films careers they agreed to appear, no matter how small their part. The film ultimately is a celebration of the classic kung fu film; the movie techniques that Chang made famous, the stars he discovered, the perfunctory storylines. This creates a depth that goes beyond how silly the film appears on the outset, and ensures its place as one of the all time greats.

The credit sequence for the movie is unfeasibly cool as a funky but tinny song plays and each actors face appears in illustrated form. The plot is undoubtedly throwaway, just a vehicle for as many stars to appear as possible. The film is set in 1920’s Shanghai, and involves a patriot called Gau attempting to deliver important documents to Hong Kong and an army of traitors after him. Basically every scenario revolves around Gau being escorted by patriots, and traitors attempting to kill him. That means there is a fight in every scene! The match ups are positively mouth watering, and the choreography and filming of them is top notch.

Action direction is credited to five different film makers, the first being Lau Kar Wing. Younger brother of the legend that was Lau Kar Leung (RIP), by 1984 he had proven himself as one of the greatest performers and choreographers of the golden age. He appeared in and worked behind the scenes of countless classics, including The Odd Couple with Sammo Hung. That movie is, in my opinion, the greatest classical weapons film ever made. He also fought his older brother in the second best classical weapons film ever made, Legendary Weapons of China! Two of the Venoms, Chiang Sheng and Lu Feng, also serve as choreographers on Shanghai 13, who by this point had worked on numerous Venoms films and had become very accomplished.

Next is Wong Gwok Chue, a veteran who also worked on Scorching Sun, Fierce Winds and Wild Fire, starring Tan Tao Liang and Chang Yi (one of the greatest Independent kung fu movie villains). And last but not least Ricky Chen Tien Chi, who also has a large part in Shanghai 13. He was first credited choreographer on Mystery of Chess Boxing, one of the all time classic Independent kung fu movies, and appeared in plenty of Shaw Brothers and other Independent productions. Chang Cheh really pulled out the stops on talent behind the camera, but onscreen the talent pedigree goes through the roof.

The first star to appear is Jimmy Wang Yu, and despite his non-fighting role, the one-armed swordsman makes an impact. Next up is Chen Kuan Tai, who does a little fighting and is as regal and composed, as always. Danny Lee plays a sniper, exuding coolness and channelling his persona from the Heroic Bloodshed classic City on Fire (finally got to mention it!). Co-choreographer Chiang Sheng pops in as the fights start to heat up, battling three heavies while still having a cigarette holder in his mouth! He shows his natural aptitude for acrobatics here.

The next scene features the non-martial artist legend Beardy (Leung Kar Yan) hanging out in his plush apartment with a bevy of pretty ladies, just being Beardy. He is interrupted by Venom Lu Feng (looking ripped and up for a fight), and one of the best fights in the film proceeds. There is a magnificent shapes hand exchange between the two, which had me in that zone of martial arts movie awestruck consciousness. Beardy even fights on with numerous injuries, referencing that other Chang Cheh masterwork Boxer From Shantung.

Then a very young Andy Lau shows up (complete with cool white outfit and converse) and despite some doubling, he delivers some fine flowing martial artistry. Here the filming techniques amp up, with reverse photography and clever editing to paper over the cracks. Chang clearly knows what he is doing: creating a visual festival of all the innovations he made famous.

The next scene features Toby Chi Kuan Chun and David Chiang, two of the masters of kung fu cinema, as they go at it with Ga Hoi (a recognisable face especially from the shapes genius 7 Steps of Fung Fu) and Wong Chung, a veteran Shaw Brothers and Indie bit part actor. All four perform admirably, with Chiang really cutting loose. He even has an exploding pocket watch that he puts to good use!

The best entrance for any character is undoubtedly Ti Lung, as he appears to save Gao by slitting two guys throats. The camera centres on his iconic face complete with moustache, cool hat and pipe. The final fight (and the whole film really) is a fan’s dream. Two big surprises are the inclusions of Chen Sing and Sonny Yu. Chen Sing suddenly arrives on the scene, looking a little overweight – sporting a Karate suit – diving into the action with abandon. By this point he had moved away from Shaws to star in innumerable Indie flicks, with his nickname “The Chinese Charles Bronson.” His battle with Ti Lung is one for the ages, despite it not being as intricate as other sections of the action. Sonny Yu was a relatively new star compared to the rest of the cast, with only a few films under his belt. His technique is exemplary especially in kicking, and he more than holds his own.

When this film finished I was spent. But in a euphoric way. I would urge any fan of kung fu cinema, whatever age or stage, to check this undoubted masterpiece out (available on DVD from Terracotta). Despite not being Chang Cheh’s swan song (that would come in 1993 with Ninja In Ancient China), it is a fitting jewel in the crown of his unbelievable filmography.

Martin Sandison’s Rating: 10/10

The post Shanghai 13 | aka Heroic Ones from Shanghai (1984) Review first appeared on cityonfire.com.

“From Vegas to Macau II” Chinese Theatrical Poster

AKA: The Man from Macau II
Director: Wong Jing
Co-director: Aman Chang
Cast: Chow Yun-fat, Nick Cheung, Carina Lau, Shawn Yue, Angela Wang, Michelle Hu, David Chiang, Kimmy Tong, Philip Keung, Wu Yue, Jin Qiaoqiao, Kenny Wong, Derek Tsang, Connie Man, Rebecca Zhu
Running Time: 110 min.

By Paul Bramhall

The 2014 Lunar New Year movie From Vegas to Macau was far from perfect. It featured a droll performance by Nicolas Tse, an irritating Chapman To, and a wasted action role from Philip Ng. However it also had its pluses, the biggest of which was Chow Yun Fat returning to a Wong Jing directed gambling flick for the first time since Return of the God of Gamblers, made a whole 20 years earlier. Chow, who spent most of those 20 years starring either in Hollywood productions which should have been beneath him, or cardboard cutout period epics from the mainland, couldn’t have had a more welcome return to the world of Hong Kong movies. While From Vegas to Macau was very much a hit and miss affair, just seeing Chow doing his thing front and center in a Hong Kong movie was enough to make it enjoyable.

Wong Jing, never one to let go of a winning formula, sure enough embarked on throwing together From Vegas to Macau 2 in time for the 2015 Lunar New Year. With the original relying almost solely on Chow’s charm, while I like him just as much as the next guy, the prospect of watching another 100 minutes of Chow hamming it up and little else would be stretching even his biggest fans patience. The second installment also does away with most of the supporting cast. Nicolas Tse, Chapman To, and Philip Ng are all gone. Unfortunately so is Jing Tian, who was one of the high points and had good chemistry with Chow. Thankfully though, the new cast ensures none of them are likely to be missed. From Vegas to Macau 2 surrounds Chow with plenty of local Hong Kong talent in the form of Nick Cheung, Shawn Yue, Carina Lau, and even Shaw Brothers legend David Chiang gets a worthy role.

The sequel is also noteworthy as being the Shaw Brothers studio return to feature length filmmaking. Sporting an updated logo for the new millennium, the glossy opening credits provide a worthy accompaniment to the legendary studios come back. It also brings me great relief to say that so does the rest of the movie. From Vegas to Macau 2 does a lot to rectify the faults of its predecessor, and it does so in the way you’d expect a HK Lunar New Year movie to – more action, more spectacle, and more wacky comedy. It should be noted that reviewing any Lunar New Year movie comes with a certain amount of caveats, these productions are never intended to be judged as serious movies, rather they’re supposed to be raucously fun, star filled slices of entertainment for local audiences to enjoy during the New Year festivities.

Previous examples of Lunar New Year productions include the Aces Go Places series, many of the My Lucky Stars movies, Millionaire’s Express, and into the 1990’s most of Jackie Chan and Stephen Chow’s movies were released to coincide with the Lunar New Year. Cohesive storytelling, well developed characters, and if the movie is going to be remembered a few months later are all entirely disregarded when it comes to this genre. Their goal is to entertain, and with this in mind, they should also be reviewed from this perspective.

On the basis of the above, there’s not a lot to dislike about From Vegas to Macau 2. From the moment it starts a breakneck pace is set up of out there humor and random actions scenes, and neither really let up for the duration of the run time. Relaxing with wine on a boat is disturbed by pistol wielding female assassins on jet skis and flyboards (imagine a water powered jet pack, here the first time I’ve seen them used in an action movie), a huge robot with a machine gun arm decimates the interior of an apartment, and gold plated cards are thrown to disarm the enemy. Viewed as a legitimate piece of cinema, From Vegas to Macau 2 is completely stupid and illogical. Viewed as an entertaining way to spend 100 minutes of your life, you could do a lot worse.

It almost feels like a review would be incomplete without a brief plot summary, but really, here the plot is so thin (even in comparison to its predecessor!) that it’s hardly worth mentioning. In a couple of lines though, the evil organization D.O.A. is back, and they have their sites set on Nick Cheung, a former employee who stole a ton of their cash. He’s now on the run with his child daughter, however Interpol are also on his tail, led by Shawn Yue, playing a character who happens to be Chow’s godson. Yue asks Chow to help, and through a series of events Chow ends up buddied up with Cheung in Thailand, which leads to various comedic situations and action. Okay, that was three lines.

Carina Lau also stars as a love interest for Chow, and fans of Taylor Wong’s 1987 flick, Rich and Famous, will no doubt get a kick out of the fact that scenes from the movie, which also starred Chow and Lau as a couple, are used to explain their back story. Despite all the comedic shenanigans, Chow and Lau’s relationship is surprisingly heartfelt, and serves an important part in the finale, delivering some welcome emotional weight to close out proceedings. The same applies to Nick Cheung’s relationship with Yolanda Yuen, and despite their scenes together being remarkably brief, they effectively convey a worthy level of emotion. Although arguably it shouldn’t feel earned considering all the hijinks surrounding such scenes, the quality of their performances somehow make it work.

From Vegas to Macau 2 really excels though when it comes to the action, and it crams in a lot of it. From a raid on a safe house in Thailand 30 minutes in, which contains a fantastic mix of live explosions and stunts, combined with some nice use of GoPro shots, to a Muay Thai match that has one of the most unlikely pairings you’ll ever see – a 60 year old Chow Yun Fat vs. Ken Lo. The match is played for laughs, and provides plenty of them, as Chow hilariously cramps up when trying to throw a kick, and uses stalling tactics which bring to mind Stephen Chow in the finale of Love on Delivery. For those looking for some real toe to toe action though, Shawn Yue gets to briefly throw down a couple of times against Wu Yue, one while handcuffed that sees Wu also agree not to use his hands, and the other in an airplane cabin not dissimilar to a scene in The Transporter 2.

The action is all complimented by the onscreen pairing of Chow and Cheung. Both are great actors, and here they bounce off each other well, whether it be backing each other up in a dodgy Thai casino, or surrounded by a group of hungry crocodiles. From Vegas to Macau 2 is interestingly the second time Cheung has found himself confronting crocodiles while in Thailand, the first being Benny Chan’s awful 2013 action flick The White Storm. The chemistry between the two unintentionally makes the movie a few notches better than it would be had it been another actor left to play Chow’s foil (Nicolas Tse we’re looking at you).

Throw in a bunch of on the mark jokes that reference everything from Donnie Yen, Lost in Thailand, The Walking Dead, Unbeatable, and even Korean drama He Who Came from the Stars, and From Vegas to Macau 2 not only captures the spirit of those 80’s HK ‘everything and the kitchen sink’ movies that we love so much, it genuinely feels like one. For those who have seen the original, the closing couple of minutes wrapped up with an interesting cameo, and the sequel does the same. While last time a few people were left scratching their heads, this time it’s a safe bet that with the closing shot, anyone who counts themselves as even a casual fan of Hong Kong cinema, will most likely be left grinning from ear to ear.

Paul Bramhall’s Rating: 8/10

The post From Vegas to Macau II (2015) Review first appeared on cityonfire.com.

“Daisy” Korean Theatrical Poster

Director: Andrew Lau
Writer: Felix Chong
Producer: Hoon-tak Jung
Cast: Jeong Woo-Sung, Jun Ji-Hyun (Gianna Jun), Lee Sung-jae, Cheon Ho-Jin, Simon Yam Tat Wah, David Chiang Da Wei, Yu Sun-Cheol, Dion Lam
Running Time: 110 min.

By Paul Bramhall

On paper Daisy reads like an Asian action thriller fan’s dream. A Korea and Hong Kong co-production (which translates to Korea being in-front of the camera and Hong Kong being behind it) shot entirely on location in the Netherlands, the production boasts an enviable pool of talent from both countries. Directed by Andrew Lau and written by Felix Chong (with the assistance of Jin Gan-san and Kwak Jae-yong), in 2006 the pair were still hot off the tail of being the duo behind the Infernal Affairs trilogy.

Here they provide us with a story that focuses on 3 Koreans living in Amsterdam – Lee Song-jae plays an Interpol agent, Jeong Woo-seong plays a hitman working for the Chinese mafia, and Jeon Ji-hyeon plays a street painter who gets caught up in the middle of everything. For good measure, throw in Shaw Brothers legend David Chiang as the boss of the organization that Woo-seong works for, and an action director in the form of Dion Lam. It’s fair to assume that with the people involved, the end result should be a winning combination.

There is, however, a slight caveat which may impede audiences enjoyment of Daisy, and that is that it’s not an action thriller at all. Despite the names involved, Daisy is in fact a romantic melodrama. Perhaps Lau wanted to have a crack at a different genre, but decided to try and pull it off using the types of characters he was familiar with dealing with. Lau has had a long career in the industry, and before Infernal Affairs he was most well known for directing a series of wuxia movies in the late 90’s – most notably The Storm Riders – which pushed the envelope for what Hong Kong could do with CGI at the time. Daisy was made in-between his car racing manga adaptation Initial D, and Confession of Pain, which was an unsuccessful attempt to recreate the style of genre filmmaking that made Infernal Affairs such a success.

To his credit, while Lau’s decision to basically make a Korean movie may have been a risky one, he was certainly successful in getting some big names to come onboard. Lee Seong-jae was still considered A-list material in 2006, having been in everything from Bong Joon-ho’s debut, the dark comedy Barking Dogs Never Bite, to gritty action flicks like Holiday. Likewise for Jeong Woo-seong, while at the time he was still 2 years away from starring in The Good, The Bad, The Weird, which gained international recognition, he still had several notable roles under his belt, such as his memorable character from Musa. Of course Jeon Ji-hyeon is most recognizable as the title character of My Sassy Girl, and at the time Daisy was a significant departure from the type of slightly wacky characters her career had been defined by to this point.

It’s worth noting that there are 2 versions of Daisy – the theatrical cut and the director’s cut. The version I’m reviewing is the director’s cut version, and for full disclosure I’ve never seen the theatrical cut. What I do know is that the director’s cut is 25 minutes longer than the theatrical version, pushing it to almost 2 hours, and significantly re-orders the scenes, so that the narrative plays with the timeline of how events unfold.

One of the changes I can definitely say applies to the director’s cut is how the movie begins. Over a third of the total runtime is dedicated to following the events that lead up to a fateful shootout in the town square, but it takes the time to be told from each of the 3 characters perspectives. From the opening shot we see Jun Ji-hyeon whimsically musing on when she’ll find her one true love in voiceover, learning that she lives with her grandfather who runs an antique shop, and in her spare time she paints tourists portraits in the town square. Ji-hyeon has been receiving a pot of daisies delivered outside the antique store every day for several months, and although she has no idea who they’re off, she hopes that the sender could be the guy for her.

When Song-jae, the Interpol agent, discovers that the gangsters he’s tracking are using a location in the town square, he realizes that the spot where the portrait artists sit is the perfect position to observe them without being conspicuous. Of course, the portrait artist he chooses to paint him is Ji-hyeon, and as it just so happens that the day he chooses her is also the day he himself is carrying a pot of flowers, she becomes convinced that Song-jae is the mystery daisy sender.

But wait! Enter hitman Woo-seong, whom we learn that after performing a hit, usually waits for the heat to cool off at a cottage in the countryside. That cottage also happens to look out onto a field of daisies that Ji-hyeon often comes to paint, so watching her from a distance, he finds himself becoming silently enamored with her innocent beauty. Hence, it’s actually Woo-seong who’s sending her the daisies, and he even goes so far as to rent an apartment overlooking the town square where she paints, so he can observe her every day instead of just now and then. See his rule is to never make direct contact, it’s a hitman thing.

So we have a perfect love triangle setup, however Dion Lam is onboard for a reason, and that reason becomes evident when the gangsters realize what Song-jae is up to. At this point Woo-seong has learnt that Song-jae is a cop that’s been developing a relationship with Ji-hyeon, so instead of continuing to sit there depressed in his apartment window watching them together, he’s given a choice. With the gangsters about to take out an unsuspecting Song-jae, does he allow his jealousy to let them do it, or will he do the right thing and come to his aid? Of course things get messy, and it’s the innocent Ji-hyeon who ends up coming off worse in the ensuing gun battle.

If the above description sounds a little similar to John Woo’s The Killer, it’s understandable. A cop and a killer both wanting to come to the rescue of a damsel in distress, who gets maimed due to their actions, the comparison is inevitable. However unlike Sally Yeh, Ji-hyeon doesn’t lose her sight (I’d consider it a spoiler to reveal what happens though, so I won’t.) While The Killer was very much about Chow Yun Fat and Danny Lee bursting into action, guns blazing, with Yeh’s blindness serving as the reason for them doing so, Daisy is the opposite. Song-jae and Woo-seong both want to capture Ji-hyeon’s heart, and occasionally it involves firing off a few bullets. A perfect example of the difference is when Woo-seong goes on a date with Ji-hyeon, and pops out for a couple of minutes mid-way through to perform a hit, before coming back to carry on were they left off. You know what type of movie you’re watching when the date is the focus, and not the hit.

Daisy relies on the voiceover technique a lot, arguably to the point that at times it results in a disconnect to what’s happening onscreen. On the other hand sometimes it works to keeps things interesting, particularly when one of the many shots of characters brooding in slow motion is given some narration. It somehow manages to make it feel a little less pretentious than just watching them brood in silence. These shots could work under a director like Wong Kar-wai, but here Felix Chong’s story relies a little too much on coincidence and disbelief to give the scenes any weight. Aspects of the movie like Song-jae and Woo-seong constantly letting the other go, because they know Ji-hyeon would be upset if either of them got hurt, come across as laughable rather than admirable. It takes a certain type of director to be able to convey bromance effectively, and Lau is no John Woo.

Once the shootout in the town square is over the movie also suffers, at times feeling like it’s going to stutter to a complete stop. With Song-jae back in Korea, Woo-seong decides to take a chance with Ji-hyeon, however it simply makes all his prior actions seem like that of a stalker rather than a love sick hitman. In part his acting is to blame, while movies like 2014’s Scarlet Innocence and 2013’s Cold Eyes show just how much his acting has matured, here some of his looks and line delivery come across as more creepy than tortured soul. Of course Lau should also take responsibility, and it makes me speculate as to if the reason why there’s so much voiceover is because he couldn’t confidently direct when the lines are being delivered in Korean.

With a decidedly downbeat tone permeating through most of the movie, Daisy is a hard sell both to fans of melodrama, and to those expecting a dose of action. By the time Woo-seong loads up to raid David Chiang’s headquarters close to the end of the 2 hours, the pace has been so gloomy that even the promise of some action, which does indeed get delivered, is difficult to get excited about. With this in mind, perhaps it’s best to leave this Daisy unpicked.

Paul Bramhall’s Rating: 5.5/10

The post Daisy (2006) Review first appeared on cityonfire.com.

“The Heroic Ones” Chinese Theatrical Poster

AKA: Shaolin Masters
Director: Chang Cheh
Writer: Chang Cheh, Ni Kuang
Producer: Run Run Shaw
Cast: David Chiang, Ti Lung, Chan Chuen, Lily Li Li Li, Chan Sing, Bolo Yeung, Ku Feng, Chin Han, Wang Chung, James Nam Gung Fan, Chan Feng Chen, Cheng Hong Yip
Running Time: 121 min.

By JJ Hatfield

In a time when warring factions fought for a divided China, a powerful Mongol warlord and his thirteen generals ruled the territory with swift and savage force. Any and all who dared challenge their authority were summarily dispatched. They were an invincible force none could defeat, meeting every challenge with supreme confidence, never doubting certain success. To those who counted them on their side they were The Heroic Ones.

Amidst the chaos and conflict of the latter part of the Tang Dynasty, Li Ke-Yung, played by Ku Feng (My Rebellious Son), together with his thirteen generals, is a power to be reckoned with. Li considers all the generals his offspring, lavishing them with the best of everything, denying them nothing. His generals are as enthusiastic about bloody battle as they are about drunken debauchery – every one of them a fierce fighter and arrogant as hell.

The Heroic Ones is directed by the prolific Chang Cheh (Five Deadly Venoms) with David Chiang (Kung Fu Jungle) and Ti Lung (A Better Tomorrow) having standout roles in the large cast. Though an early ‘Iron Triangle’ film, Chiang has the lead role to himself with the most screen time as Li Tsun Hsiao, the youngest of the thirteen and the fond favorite of Li Ke-Yung. Tsun Hsiao is deadly in combat being exceptionally skilled with a spear. He also carries out a unique piece of action choreography during an encounter with an enemy general played by Bolo Yeung of Enter the Dragon fame.

Ti Lung is Shih Ching Szu, the only other brother to recieve much attention from Li Ke-Yung. Though he isn’t the focus of the film, Ti manages to shine in an epic warrior battle against a barrage of hundreds of the enemy. Not only an impressive display of valor but one of the longest fight scenes to be found in a martial movie of any age.

With The Heroic Ones, Chang and his co-writer Kuang Ni (The Pirate) drew from the late 800’s – early 900’s China for the basis of the story with more more than a few liberties taken with the facts. The movie has been noted by some for the effort afforded to costumes and set pieces consistent with the time period and culture, but it should not by any means be taken as a true portrait of history.

If The Heroic Ones was being filmed today, it would feature computer generated armies with one or two actual people doing battle. In 1969, they did it the real way with a couple hundred people and Lau Kar-leung, Tony Gaai, and Lau Kar-wing orchestrating the training and directing for the throng of actors, stuntmen and extras who must appear to be familiar with weapons. The hard work paid off in the realism of fight scenes, many times with one general against a multitude.

Once the onslaught begins, the torrent of enemies rarely lets up. Purely on an action level fans will be thrilled with the profusion of nearly non-stop combat and The Heroic Ones certainly delivers on that count. Unfortunately, the size of the cast is unwieldy even in Chang Cheh’s usually capable hands. And though the film clocks in at a little over two hours, Chang spends little time on character development for the majority of the cast. That decision on Chang’s part ultimately renders the film’s ending unfulfilling, lacking the impact The Heroic Ones could have had.

JJ Hatfield’s Rating: 7.5/10

The post Heroic Ones, The (1970) Review first appeared on cityonfire.com.

“Kung Fu Jungle” Chinese Theatrical Poster

Director: Teddy Chen
Cast: Donnie Yen, Bai Bing, Charlie Young, Wang Baoqiang, David Chiang, Alex Fong, Zhang Lan Xin, Stephen Tung Wei, Chin Kar Lok, Xing Yu, William Chan, Raymond Chow, Nicky Li, Deep Ng, Yuen Bun, Andrew Lau Wai-Keung
Running Time: 100 min.

By Paul Bramhall

After initially being called Last of the Best, and then Kung Fu Killer, Donnie Yen’s fourth and final starring role of 2014 arrives in the form of Kung Fu Jungle. Ironically, both of the movies initial titles are more representative of what it’s about than the final choice, but as Shakespeare once said, “What’s in a name?” Most kung fu cinema fans will be familiar with the 1997 Seasonal Films HK-US co-production Bloodmoon, in which Gary Daniels plays a cop on the tail of Darren Shahlavi, a serial killer going around challenging martial artists to death duels. While Bloodmoon was a simple kung fu flick with no higher ambitions, Kung Fu Jungle takes the same idea, and tries to incorporate extra meaning into it by adding in the concepts of martial arts philosophy and principals.

Yen always shines brightest when he’s working with a director who knows his stuff, and here he’s once again paired with Teddy Chen, who he collaborated with on 2009’s Bodyguards and Assassins. The pair make a good team, and Yen’s performance somewhat echoes that of his role in Wu Xia in that his character is one who’s turned away from fighting, rather than the hot headed roles he’s most famous for in his career.

In Kung Fu Jungle, he plays a prisoner who’s been jailed due to accidentally beating an opponent to death. When the news gets to him of a martial artist he once knew being murdered in mysterious circumstances, Yen insists that he knows who the killer is and that the police, led by Charlie Young, should let him out so that he can help to find the culprit. It should come as no surprise that before long, they agree to do just that, however what may come as a surprise is exactly how closely Yen sticks to only helping them out.

Kung Fu Jungle arguably marks the first time when he noticeably takes himself out of the action spotlight with, save for a couple of brief skirmishes, the only real fight he plays a significant part in being the finale, but we’ll get to that later. With Yen taking a sideline on the action front, it’s left to the kung fu serial killer to deliver what most of the audience for this type of movie will be checking in for – the fights. Thankfully this role is played by Wang Bao Qiang, here facing off against Yen for the second time in the same year after they both starred in Iceman 3D together.

Bao Qiang trained in the Shaolin Temple as it was his dream to be a kung fu movie star, and after his career has seen him starring in mostly non-martial arts roles, it seems that 2014 is the year that his dream is finally coming true.  His murderous rampage has him taking on kung fu masters using whatever martial arts they’re proficient in, which translates to a brief but intense kicking showdown with Xing Yu, a weapons duel with Fan Siu Wong, and of course a showdown with Yen himself. With his character having a handicap of being born with one leg shorter than the other and a tragic past, Bao Qiang plays an effectively menacing antagonist to Yen’s peace seeking prisoner, and the two roles play off each other well.

While the fight scenes do employ some wire work, it’s mostly used to accentuate falls rather than being used for any gravity defying kicks, and as a result its use is never particularly jarring. For the audience that like their fight scenes grounded, the good news is there’s nothing here that comes close to the absurdity of the fights in say, Legendary Assassin, for example. While Yen gained wide acclaim for successfully merging the flow of Hong Kong choreography with the grappling style of modern MMA for movies like Sha Po Lang (aka Kill Zone) and Flash Point, many felt that his work in Special ID moved too much towards the MMA style – a style which is particularly difficult to translate into something that looks exciting onscreen. For the final duel in Kung Fu Jungle, he fully rectifies this, ending the movie with a bang thanks to an impressively lengthy duel with Bao Qiang on a busy highway which throws in everything from fists, feet, grappling, and weapons. It’s so good that even a small dose of dodgy CGI doesn’t detract from the impact.

In many ways Kung Fu Jungle plays like a tribute to not just the Hong Kong movie industry of old, but also the current Hong Kong talent making movies now. Scattered throughout its run time is an almost endless list of cameos from talent both old and new: from Raymond Chow to Bruce Law (suitably playing a truck driver!); Derek Kwok to Andrew Lau; even Jackie Chan and Lau Kar Leung make appearances, albeit on the TV screen. Cameo spotting hasn’t been this much fun since Twin Dragons. Plenty of choreographers are in the mix as well: from old school hands like Yuen Bun and Stephen Tung Wei; to new school faces like Chin Kar Lok and Nicky Li, and I’ve no doubt they all contributed to the action along with Yen who acted as the principal action director.

Of course in true to form style for a Hong Kong movie, there’s also some unintentional goofiness on display that reminds us not to take anything too seriously. One scene has Bao Qiang using his phone in the middle of a steaming hot sauna, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world; another has us believe that the whole cast and crew of a film set would run away in order for two guys to fight each other to the death. My personal favorite moment came when Charlie Young asks Yen if he knows why the killer is committing the murders, and Yen responds back with a perfect poker face, “Because he’s a kung fu maniac!”

However, mixed in with these are enough homage’s to old school kung fu movies that the sum of all its parts equal to a highly enjoyable experience. Chen successfully transplants old kung fu movie tropes, such as Jimmy Wang Yu’s skin toughening technique in movies like Chinese Boxer, into a modern day setting, and the way in which it’s done can’t help but bring a smile to the face. Kung Fu Jungle is a smart movie, one which knows enough about the audience it needs to appeal to, as well as the audience that it wants to appeal to, and it’s a balancing act that not many recent movies have been able to pull off.

Things get effectively meta in the final moments, with Yen’s character delivering a coda that’s not only reminiscent of many of the Shaw Brothers wuxia pian movies, but by extension also seems to reflect his own beliefs of where he’s at in his career. It’s an excellent close to what comes close to being an excellent movie, thankfully washing away the memory of his cringe worthy jumping for joy moments that closed out Special ID at the beginning of 2014. It’ll be interesting to see the type of reviews Kung Fu Jungle receives a few years later when it can be looked at in the greater context of Yen’s filmography, but for now, the movie delivers a worthy high note for both his career and for Hong Kong cinema in a period when they’re few and far between.

Paul Bramhall’s Rating: 8/10

The post Kung Fu Jungle | aka Kung Fu Killer (2014) Review first appeared on cityonfire.com.

“The Pirate” Chinese Theatrical Poster

Director: Chang Cheh
Co-Directors: Pao Hsueh Lieh, Wu Ma
Cast: Ti Lung, David Chiang, Fan Mei Sheng, Bruce Tong, Yuen Man Tzu, Dean Shek, Tin Ching, Lau Gong, Wu Chih Ching, Yue Fung, Alan Chan Kwok Kuen, Chan Dik Hak
Running Time: 96 min.

By Matthew Le-feuvre

Although Chang Cheh will be fondly remembered for his long association with the Shaw Brothers, there was always more to this film-making zeitgeist than geysering blood, decapitations, disembowelment or torturous imagery. In addition to his prolificacy, Cheh’s alternative meditations occasionally embraced social commentary, usually with concerns about modern youth or the impact of organised crime and how each reflected on urban domesticity: these issues were candidly explored in a handful of films like, The Generation Gap, Young People and The Singing Killer – all starring the iconic David Chiang. However overtly sandwiched between [these] historical romps and contemporary expositions, Cheh often delved into ‘escapist’ theatre, the idea being to steer audiences away from apathy at times when looming social or economic shifts threatened stability in south-east Asia, particularly in Hong Kong. In any case, this strategy worked; mellowing the masses and even inducing the most hardened of critics.

Economics aside, in the advent of Cheh’s most popular, though at intervals ‘ contrived ‘ masterpieces: The One Armed Swordsman, Have Sword Will Travel, Vengeance and The Duel by example, the premiere of The Pirate did not really stir much enthusiasm or controversy upon its initial release back in 1973. Understandably, the general populace were more interested about the circumstances behind Bruce Lee’s demise than in box office ratings or forthcoming attractions. In fact, it was considered something of a commercial distraction than a celebration which Hong Kong audiences widely perceive a movie should represent. Anyhow, retrospectively, The Pirate was a slightly pallid expression of high adventure, drawing inspiration no doubt from the familiar archetypes of Robin Hood, The Sea Hawk and The Buccaneers, cross-bred and extravagantly moulded to adhere with Cheh’s signature pastiche for male bonding, a raised fist against the establishment as well as the obligatory betrayer whom the central protagonist has too contend with. Although these components were laxed, there is still enough tension, brutality and innovation to an otherwise enjoyable and dazzling cult rediscovery that, to a point, doesn’t take itself too seriously; yet beneath the surface, Cheh’s palpable hatred of despotism is all too customary, even from the picture’s outset.

Featuring an explosive opening sea channel battle between British Imperialists and indigenous pirates, led by the debonair Chang Pao Chai (Ti Lung). The complex screenplay acts much like the ocean itself, unpredictable one minute and sedate in the next, echoing filmic parallels from Akira Kurosawa to Sam Peckinpah as our deeply flawed anti-hero begins an impromptu journey from the leaking bowels of his vessel to the nearby shoreline of southern china where – masquerading as a rich trader – he becomes unintentionally embroiled with a group of local villagers/ fishermen, whose struggle against exploitation and corruption has forced them into destitution. To quicken repairs, Pao Chai sympathetically agrees to expedite funds for the villagers using currency and jewels plundered from invading colonists.

Returning to his anchored ship/junk, Pao Chai discovers that a vengeful former crew member, Hue er-Dao (Fan Mei Sheng); an escaped convict, has appropriated not only his damaged vessel, but goods and an undisciplined crew. This situation compromises him to take refuge in a gambling house. There he collides with General Wu (David Chiang), a disillusioned loyalist dispatched to apprehend Pao Chai – dead or alive. However as their friendship develops, Wu becomes aware of Pao Chai’s chivalrous nature and, intermittently, begins to question his own moral servitude: what consequences will eventuate? Will Pao Chui retrieve his junk and capital to deliver the villagers from an uncertain fate? Or will Wu conform to his civic duty and arrest Pao Chai?

Verdict: In spite of its somewhat intoxicating artificiality, forty-one years on The Pirate remains a lesser recognized, yet interesting cinematic experience that doesn’t solely rely on political subtleties, trademark cinematography or protracted duels for personal entertainment. On the contrary, the defining novelty of both Ti Lung and David Chiang spearheading their eighteenth collaboration for an indelible saga of obligation, revenge and misguided loyalties, is itself a landmark achievement even by Hollywood conventions.

Matthew Le-feuvre’s Rating: 8/10

The post Pirate, The (1974) 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.

“The Lost Kung Fu Secrets” DVD Cover

Director: Joe Law
Cast: David Chiang Da-Wei, Hsu Feng, Choi Wang, Hu Chin, Wong Hap, Paul Chun Pui, Sun Jung Chi, Weng Hsiao Hu, Yuen Sam, Chiang Han, Wang Man Chuen
Running Time: 91 min.

By Numskull 

The Lost Kung Fu Secrets (abbreviated hereafter as “Lost”) is not just an exercise in pointlessness, it’s a full-blown workout. I’m talking three consecutive Richard Simmons videos, here. The…ah, “plot” begins as a feeble swipe at Christian expansionism and quickly degenerates (even MORE, I mean) into an hour-long string of some of the thinnest excuses to have fight scenes ever committed to film. This wouldn’t be so bad if the fights were enjoyable, but they’re not. The choreography is very stiff and “clockworkish”, failing to convey any sense of urgency or spontaneity. The kung fu in Lost, secret or not, should STAY lost.

We’ve got this aspiring dictator who is “using Christianity as an excuse” to have his followers seize territory by force. How this works, exactly, is a mystery; all we see is him sitting in his aspiring dictator’s chair in front of a big banner with a red cross on it (and no, he won’t give you six dollars and a bag of cookies if you donate blood). He’s at war with a more honorable general and has a spy integrated into his forces. Our Hero knows who the spy is…a high-ranking officer…but the boss won’t believe him. In fact, he trusts this officer so much that he goes to stay at his personal camp and takes his wife and daughter with him. Broad daylight becomes nightfall in the time it takes someone to step in and out of a tent, and the two-faced fuck springs his trap. The duped general’s wife grabs a sword and kills herself for no apparent reason, and Our Hero must help the others escape. Much of the fighting here takes place outdoors in the dark, but judging by the rest of the choreography in Lost, we’re not missing much.

After that, the good guys wander the countryside and get into fights until they reach the top of the bad guy mountain and then fight some more while the same piece of music repeats about 20 times. One of Lost’s truly shining moments takes place between a battle with some women who fight with baskets and ribbons and another battle with a few guys who use brightly-colored flags as their weapon of choice. As Our Hero and “the Princess” (the general’s daughter, actually; how that amounts to being royalty, I don’t know) walk through a canyon, a whole bunch of villains roll a whole bunch of boulders…each about half the size of a grown adult…down on our defenseless protagonists. These things look even more fake than the fight scenes. Note to director: real boulders do not bounce ten feet in the air when they hit the ground.

A fairly good climactic duel, in which Our Hero’s opponent wears a suit of armor with spikes in the arms, is not enough to save this movie. If a boring kung fu film that will make you wish you could have your hour and a half back is what you seek, I urge you to get Lost.

Numskull’s Rating: 3/10

The post Lost Kung Fu Secrets, The (1979) Review first appeared on cityonfire.com.

“Just Heroes” Chinese Theatrical Poster

Director: John Woo
Co-director: Ng Ma
Cast: David Chiang, Danny Lee, Chen Kuan Tai, Stephen Chow, Lo Lieh, Cally Kwong, Wu Ma, Shing Fui On, Zhao Lei, Tien Niu, Alan Chan, Fung Hak On, Philip Ko Fei
Running Time: 97 min.

By Numskull

This is the John Woo “gun fu” movie that nobody has seen. It’s listed on the filmographies, but nothing much is ever said about it. It simply gets nestled between A Better Tomorrow 2 and The Killer.

So I watched it hoping I’d be able to write a rave review of it, saying how criminally unfair it is that it doesn’t get more attention and how it deserves to be ranked right up there with Woo’s best.

Sorry, folks. No can do.

Just Heroes is just so-so. John Woo turned out a chain of seven films during his HK golden era: A Better Tomorrow, A Better Tomorrow 2, Just Heroes, The Killer, Bullet in the Head, Once A Thief, and Hard Boiled. This, friends, is the weak link.

One might say that the absence of Chow Yun-fat (who appeared in five of the seven films listed above) harms this movie and keeps it from attaining the brilliance of A Better Tomorrow or The Killer. And one would be wrong, because there’s no shortage of talent among the cast here, and not even an actor as good as Chow Yun-fat can single-handedly save a movie from totally sucking (Replacement Killers, anyone?). I’m not saying that Just Heroes sucks, but it doesn’t mesmerize you like other Woo flicks do.

The story concerns the murder of a mob leader by an unidentified assassin and the subsequent chaos among his underlings as his chosen successor has doubts about his ability to fill his boss’s shoes and the search for the killer indicates an inside job. The gang splits into factions. Some guys are honorable, others are pricks. Violence ensues.

Don’t expect a thrill a minute. Just Heroes is no more story driven than any other John Woo film since the mid 1980s, but it’s definitely less adrenaline-charged. After the initial shootout, the better part of an hour passes before we see anything that resembles an action sequence again. What’s there is good, but more would have been nice since the plot and characters aren’t exceptionally interesting.

Ng Ma is credited as co-director and I’m given cause to wonder if he directed more of this movie than “they” would have us believe. At times it really does seem more like a John Woo imitation than a John Woo film. There’s one character who repeatedly makes references to A Better Tommorrow, reciting Chow Yun-fat’s urine-drinking speech and planting handguns in potted plants (get it? PLANTING handguns? Potted PLANTS? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA… ha… heh… um… never mind).

Seriously… Just Heroes is worth watching once, but it’s hardly touched by greatness. If you’re a Woo completist, it is, of course, required viewing; if not, don’t beat yourself up for skipping over it. To my knowledge it is not available on DVD. Tai Seng has released full-frame and (barely) letterboxed videos. Both have blurry white subs burned onto the print; in the full-frame version, which sould be avoided at all costs, the text constantly runs off the edges of the screen and gets chopped off at the bottom. Nothing new there. Watch it letterboxed or not at all.

Oh yeah, and the ending is very abrupt.

Numskull’s Rating: 5/10

The post Just Heroes | aka Tragic Heroes (1987) 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.

“Five Shaolin Masters” Hong Kong Theatrical Poster

Director: Chang Cheh
Writer: Ni Kuang
Cast: David Chiang, Ti Lung, Alexander Fu Sheng, Chi Kuan Chun, Meng Fei, Leung Kar Yan, Fung Hak On, Kong Do, Choi Wang, Johnny Wang, Chan Dik Hak, Chan Sam Lam, Chen Chin, Cheung Yee Kwai, Chik Ngai Hung, Chui Chung, Chui Fat, Dang Tak Cheung
Running Time: 105 min.

By HKFanatic

Most action films, even martial arts ones, are scenes of dialogue interrupted by the occasional fight. “Five Shaolin Masters” is a series of fight scenes interrupted by occasional dialogue. This is not only one of the best martial arts movies I’ve seen – this is one of the best movies I’ve seen, period. Director Chang Cheh outdid himself with his tale of the last remaining survivors of the Shaolin Temple massacre. Although I still have lots of love for Cheh’s “Five Element Ninjas” and its goofy, super-powered antics, “Five Shaolin Masters” might be my new favorite Shaw Brothers classic.

Several things I love about this movie: for one, it doesn’t mess around. There’s no ill-advised attempts at humor, no romantic subplot. In fact, there isn’t a single female character in the whole movie. The cast is uniformly excellent but three of the Masters stand out more than the others. David Chiang is the closest thing the film has to a main character; he might not have the flashiest moves of the Five Masters but he sold me on his commitment to righteousness and stopping those damn Manchus.

Ti Lung – Ti Lung is great in this and I think this was the first time I’d seen him as a young man. He was a handsome dude back in the day! He also gets the toughest opponent out of all the Masters, the guy with the swinging axe. Then there’s Alexander Fu Sheng, who many felt could have been as big as Bruce Lee if not for his untimely death at the age of 29. He plays the youngest of the Masters and he’s the most rambunctious of the bunch. He jokes around a lot and the other guys don’t always take him seriously, but deep down he has a heart of gold. There’s a scene where he is ordered to give up Shaolin secrets under threat of torture and you just know there’s no way in hell he’s saying anything.

In “Five Shaolin Masters” the bad guys are just as memorable as the heroes, a hard feat to pull off in any movie. But you’ve got the bad-ass guy who fights with an axe on a rope; two identical twins who guard the Magistrate, who himself can kill you with his ponytail; Bryan Leung AKA “Beardy,” Sammo Hung’s buddy and an always formidable foe; and don’t forget the entire army of black-shirted enemies that’s in nearly every scene.

The soundtrack is excellent. The main theme is this creepy motif that’s repeated often and almost sounds like it could be used in a giallo. The ominous music lets the viewer know that the stakes are high. The Shaolin Temple has been destroyed, the heroes are on the run. Their only hope is to unite with their patriot bothers in Central China, perhaps win the favor of the outlaw bandit known as “Iron Face” and his men, and strike back at the evil Qing Dynasty.

“Five Shaolin Masters” has the big, important feeling of an 80’s comic book cross-over: all your favorite heroes are coming together to face an almost un-defeatable foe. Even though the film runs for nearly two hours, there’s no filler; no pointless scenes that you wish had been left on the editing room floor. Just pure, ass-kicking nirvana the whole way through. And the editing itself is a work of art: even though Chang Cheh has no less than five different battles going on at the end of the movie, the transition from fight to fight is seamless.

In a rare move for a martial arts film, the heroes acknowledge their own weaknesses and admit that they might not be able to defeat the villains. I’m not sure if this was just a plot device to keep the audience in suspense for the final battle – “Oh my God, will our heroes actually be able to beat that invincible dude with the swinging axe?” – but, hey, nice display of humility, guys! Of course, what would a Shaw Brothers movie be without a lengthy training sequence? For once there’s no wise old master to reach our protagonists; presumably their Master perished in the destruction of the temple. So instead David Chiang and company train on their own, in the midst of nature, for 6 months straight. After that you better believe there’s hell to pay.

In contrast to other Shaw Brothers movies, “Five Shaolin Masters” takes place mostly outdoors. I liked it. The Shaw Brothers’ sets are great but they always look like just that, sets. The natural scenery in this movie sold me on the reality of the plot. Of course, this wouldn’t be a Chang Cheh movie without plenty of blood ‘n guts and “Five Shaolin Masters” doesn’t disappoint in that department. People get their scalps cut off, their abs ribbed open. It’s a mess! And there’s always your patented Chang Cheh themes of brotherhood and honor. It’s no surprise that Cheh would go on to be a mentor to John Woo. Woo made the same kind of films, only with guns instead of swords.

You can probably tell that I loved this movie. I haven’t seen as many Shaw Brothers flicks as some of cityonfire.com’s readers and staff and I look forward to exploring more of the catalog, but I get the feeling that “Five Shaolin Masters” will always be one of my favorites. If you have a single bone in your body that appreciates kung fu movies, then you owe it to yourself to see “Five Shaolin Masters.”

HKFanatic’s Rating: 10/10

By Joe909

I first came across Five Shaolin Masters in a run-down department store in the early 1990s; they had the US video release for maybe three dollars or so. Since I was young, I was stupid and broke, and so I didn’t have even the few dollar bills to buy it. Flash forward ten or so years, and I’ve finally gotten a chance to see this film. It’s so good, I regret not buying it back in the day.

A few online reviews (particularly on the Hong Kong Movie Database) had me expecting a low-budget, slow-moving film with bland martial arts choreography. I honestly don’t know what movie those reviewers saw. Five Shaolin Masters is action-packed from beginning to end, features the occasional artsy dash, livens up the narrative by splitting up into different storylines, and features great choreography, all of which was overseen by Liu Chia-Liang himself. The only thing I’ll agree with those reviewers on is that the movie does at times seem low-budget, but this is only because instead of shooting on the typical, grand Shaw studios, this movie is mostly shot outdoors, in nondescript, bland forests and hills.

Five Shaolin Masters is part of a cycle of Shaolin-centered films Chang Cheh directed in the mid-1970s, all of which starred Fu Sheng and Chi Kuan-Chun, and which featured Liu Chia-Liang as choreographer (save for 1976’s Shaolin Temple, which Liu apparently declined to take part in). These movies were more traditional kung-fu than earlier and later Chang Cheh productions, and in some ways seem like a combination of his own films and Liu Chia-Liang’s later movies (i.e., 36th Chamber of Shaolin). As I said in my Shaolin Temple review, these movies offer a different view of the directing/screenwriting powerhouse of Chang Cheh/I Kuan, and should be entertaining for all kung-fu nuts.

Shaolin Temple, released in 1976, starred Fu Sheng (as Fong Sai-Yuk), Chi Kuan-Chun (as Hung Sze-Kwan), David Chiang (as Hu De-Di), and Ti Lung (as Cai Dezhong). The movie ended with the destruction of the Temple by Manchu dogs, with these four heroes and a few surviving compatriots rushing off to join the anti-Ching movement. Five Shaolin Masters picks up directly after this, and features the same actors as that film, though only David Chiang and Ti Lung reprise their roles; Fu Sheng and Chi Kuan-Chun appear as different characters, and Fong Sai-Yuk and Hung Sze-Kwan are only mentioned in passing. Wang Lung-Wei also appears in both films as the same villainous character, which is strange, as he was killed at the end of Shaolin Temple. So all of this implies that Shaolin Temple was a prequel to Five Shaolin Masters, which of course was released two years prior. I’d advise those new to both of these movies to check out Shaolin Temple first, then move on to Five Shaolin Masters. Both films perfectly compliment one another.

The film opens with the five titular heroes meeting after escaping Shaolin. They all make an oath to destroy the Manchu, and split up to rally the cause. This opening sequence offers several action scenes, with each hero battling the Manchu as they get away from the burning Temple. Chang goes for an epic touch as each character is introduced in action, then the shot freezes and we get an on-screen legend of the character’s name and the actor’s name. Here we also meet the five principal villains, who also receive a freeze-frame introduction. To improve the fun factor all the more, the heroes and villains get their own recurring themes. In fact, you’ll find yourself humming the heroes’ theme long after watching the movie.

Chang breaks up the narrative by showing what happens to each of the five heroes after splitting up. This makes the film seem more fast-paced, and also increases the action quotient. The five heroes meet fellow rebels and run into the principal villains again, setting up the feud that propels the film. The interesting fact is, in each section the hero gets his ass handed to him. The Fu Sheng section is especially memorable, as he runs into Wang Lung-Wei and eventually realizes that Wang is the traitor who aided in the destruction of the Temple. (Which itself is another interesting tidbit, as the traitorous nature of Wang’s character was already discovered, at the end of Shaolin Temple).

The heroes get back together and realize they’re no match for their opponents. So they decide to spend however long it takes to train themselves into better fighters. Realizing the Manchu will search everywhere for them, they head back to the ruins of the Temple, which they figure is the last place their pursuers will look. Their hunch is correct, as the villains spend the next year searching for them in vain. At the same time as this, the heroes keep in touch with a group of anti-Manchu rebels, who await the return of the five so they can finally get vengeance. How the five heroes manage to survive in the wilderness (no mention of money or where they’ll get food) is never addressed.

A unique aspect of these training sequences is that, instead of being taught by some decrepit old master, the heroes train themselves. I’m not sure how successful this would be in the real world, but it works out for them. The training doesn’t take up a large portion of the running time; instead, we get a few well-shot scenes of Ti Lung training with a fighting staff, Fu Sheng and Chi Kuan-Chun sparring, David Chiang impaling trees with his iron chain, and Meng Fei working on his technique. Finally the heroes decide they’re as ready as they’ll ever be, but to increase the unique aspect of this film even more, they STILL doubt their ability to defeat the villains! Self-doubt is something you don’t normally see in a kung-fu film, especially before the climactic confrontation.

The heroes arrange it so that they can take on the five villains (and their two henchmen) along a riverbank in a secluded section of the forest. Knowing that the villains will want to kill them so they can take the credit, the heroes capitalize on the villains’ bloodlust, making them come after them without the Manchu army by their side. The five masters split up and take on their respective enemies.

Since this film is more traditional than your average Chang Cheh movie, these fights don’t feature any outrageous styles or weapons. Instead, everyone fights with solid, real-life techniques; again proving the presence of Liu Chia-Liang. About the closest we get to bizarre styles is one villain, who fights with an axe head that’s attached to a rope. This doesn’t seem to me the most accurate or reliable weapon, but it works well enough for him. Another of the villains uses his ponytail to ensnare his victims and snap their necks, so that’s pretty outrageous, but nothing like the crazy stuff you’d see in later Chang Cheh movies.

Chang flawlessly cuts between these five fight scenes, each of which are greatly done. Every actor, even David Chiang, looks impressive, and I found myself totally caught up in the spectacle. The fighting, acting, and direction take it all far beyond the inferior, low-budget kung-fu flicks of the period. The final fifteen or so minutes of film are comprised of this running battle, and some of the fights have an outcome you might not expect. The movie ends on a successful note of vengeance gained, and I’m not ashamed to admit I was totally psyched by the whole experience.

Getting into the more technical details, Chang Cheh’s direction throughout is perfect. I mentioned in my Shaolin Temple review that the finale to that film was overwhelming, jumping back and forth between so many fights. Chang does the same here, but he handles it much better. Some of the transitions between fight sequences are so well done that I found myself muttering “that’s cool” out loud. As I said above, Chang also gets a bit artsy, mixing up film stocks. Several flashbacks are filmed in black and white, and this combination of black and white and color looks phenomenal on the Celestial remaster.

Like I mentioned, the bizarre weaponry is toned down, but Liu Chia-Liang’s choreography more than makes up for that. The violence is limited to blood spurting out of mouths and wounds, and isn’t near the level of several Chang Cheh films. A few guys get impaled by finger thrusts, and one of the main villains gets the top of his head lopped off in a fantastic scene, but other than that the bloodshed is minimal. I suspect there was a crackdown on film violence in Hong Kong in the mid-1970s, as Chang toned down the bloodshed in his other Shaolin films. In some cases (i.e. Men from the Monastery), he used colored lens gels to obscure the violence. Five Shaolin Masters features a bit of this, as some of the black and white scenes are pretty bloody. That being said, this movie does feature a guy getting his eyeballs kicked out.

Acting is great throughout, though characterization isn’t all it could be. We don’t really get to know our heroes and their enemies; instead, all we need to know is that one side is good and the other is evil. Therefore it’s up to each actor to make his character memorable, and they all accomplish this with ease. This actually gives the movie more of an epic vibe; just like in the Sergio Leone Westerns, we don’t learn very much about our heroes’ backgrounds, instead getting to know them through their cool demeanor and recurring theme songs. This gives the proceedings a mythic feel.

I was really impressed by this film, and I think all readers should ignore those reviews that claim it’s talky and boring. I can’t imagine the old school fan who wouldn’t enjoy it, and the flawless Celestial remaster is the perfect presentation.

Joe909’s Rating: 10/10

The post Five Shaolin Masters | aka 5 Masters of Death (1974) Review first appeared on cityonfire.com.

“Twinkle Twinkle Lucky Stars” Japanese Theatrical Poster

Director: Sammo Hung
Cast: Sammo Hung, Richard Ng, Stanley Fung, Eric Tsang, Michael Miu, John Sham, Jackie Chan, Yuen Biao, Rosamund Kwan, Sibelle Hu, Chung Fat, Yasuaki Kurata, Richard Norton, Philip Ko, Andy Lau, Lau Kar Wing, Dick Wei, Anthony Chan, Charlie Chin, Chin Kar Lok, Kara Hui, Chin Siu-Ho
Running Time: 90 min.

By Numskull

More of the same, but a little better.

I’m a little annoyed that I waited so long to see this one. It suffers from the same pacing problems found in several of Sammo Hung’s other movies, but this time ’round I didn’t mind as much. The humor is still juvenile, but it’s a little funnier. There’s still an agonizingly long scene or two where Sammo and his buddies go to absurd lengths for a couple of cheap thrills, but it’s a little easier to stomach. Yuen Biao still doesn’t have as much to do as his older Peking Opera School brothers, but at least he’s not absent for 95% of the film like he was in My Lucky Stars (which, come to think of it, I’ve never seen in its full length form, having foolishly bought the Arena video tape several years back. Damn…).

Drooling fanboys who think that Jackie Chan and Jet Li are the only significant Chinese superstars there are will most likely sleep through the first half hour as Sammo Hung, Sibelle Hu and company take center stage. Richard Ng (why the hell does this guy ALWAYS wear shorts in Sammo’s movies?) tries to learn black magic so that he can make the chicks hanging out at a resort fall in love with them. Most of the humor is equally lowbrow, without really being vulgar.

Jackie Chan, Yuen Biao, and their new partner Andy Lau make their entrance with a bang, taking on a slew of low-rent thugs in a very nice fight scene set in a warehouse. You can tell this is Sammo’s doing…old school fighting the way it was meant to be, with no wires, none of that fake-looking step-by-step choreography that plagues all those 1970s chop socky movies, none of Jackie’s clowning around and excessive use of props, etc. I’m not saying that these things can’t be amusing, but I prefer my ass-kicking to be a bit more straightforward. The same rules generally apply to the other fight scenes throughout the film, including Jackie’s duel with Richard Norton (the OTHER Richard who’s in lots of Sammo films) and the thrilling finale, which doesn’t cut rapidly back and forth between the various combatants, thus creating an odd sensation that all of this chaos ISN’T happening at the same time, but what the hell, sometimes it’s better to just let the fighting breathe flesh itself out.

Michelle Yeoh makes a cameo appearance as a judo instructor. She makes Richard Ng a lucky man by sitting on top of him. Then Sammo makes Michelle an unlucky woman by doing the same thing to her.

There’s a bit of a plot hole with Jackie and Andy having to protect some bad guy with the matter of “why” not exactly being crystal clear, but it’s not that important. There are a couple of other stupid points, like Ms. Wang failing to notice that there’s no evidence of a fire the morning after Sammo and his friends convince her that the house is ablaze, and the sniper in the bathroom falling for that “blind girl” act (come ON!!!), but the film gets by on the merits of its action and, to a lesser extent, its comedy, and, at the end of the day, is a pretty satisfactory experience.

Numskull’s Rating: 7/10

By Clint

My favorite lucky stars flick due to the great fighting. Sammo finally editied together some great fight scenes in this “Lucky stars” movie. The comedy is just like “My Lucky Stars” because nothing is really funny by itself, but all of the funny scenes combined give a little bit of comedy satisfaction. There are four good fights… JC, Yuen Biao, and Andy Lau vs. many in the warehouse….Samo vs. those chicks, at least I think they were chicks… JC vs. Richard Norton…..and the superb finale with Yuen, Samo, and JC all kicking ass. I actually recommend this “Lucky stars” effort, even though JC is not in it much.

Clint’s Rating: 7/10

By Louis Stevens

This film is excellent, the biggest and most expensive of all the lucky stars movies, the begining has a monster of a fight with Jackie and Yeun Biao taking on about 30 guys in a ware house, the humour is great, the only thing is Jackie was injured so the fight filled ending was done with Sammo intsead, but it’s still a great movie, from what I remember this has more Jackie in it than the other lucky stars flick, yeah watch this!

Louis Stevens’ Rating: 8/10

The post Twinkle Twinkle Lucky Stars | aka The Target (1985) Review first appeared on cityonfire.com.

“Chop Socky: Cinema Hong Kong” DVD Cover

Director: Ian Taylor
Writer: Ian Taylor
Cast: Jackie Chan, Sammo Hung, Lau Kar-Leung, David Chiang, Shih Kien, Gordon Liu, Cheng Pei Pei, Chor Yuen
Running Time: 55 min.

By Mighty Peking Man

After watching Ian Taylor’s Chop Socky: Cinema Hong Kong, I realize how much of a Hong Kong film connoisseur I’m not. The essence of this IFC produced documentary is that it digs deep into the beginnings of Hong Kong cinema, with well researched historical information and clips from some of the first Chinese films. It goes back from 1928′ Burning of the Red Lotus Monastery and 1949’s The True Story of Wong Fei Hung to the newer films that they inspired such as Drunken Master and Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon.

Dozens of action-packed scenes are showcased, covering everything from Shaw Brothers titles like Come Drink With Me, One-Armed Swordsman, and Magic Blade to Bruce Lee’s Fist of Fury and Jet Li’s Once Upon A Time In China and many more. Honourable mentions include the renowned Shaw Brothers studios, King Hu, Chang Cheh, and of course, Bruce Lee.

There are trivia footnotes scattered throughout, such as the huge influence Japanese film had on Hong Kong cinema (like 1962’s Zatoichi) and Jackie Chan explaining how he became famous by being everything Bruce Lee was not. Common practices regarding the production of Hong Kong film are also explored such as camera techniques, special effects, and the usage of prop weapons. Lau Ka-Leung and Gordon Liu, two of the Shaw Brothers’ top stars, are shown doing some of these demonstrations.

The documentary is packed with interviews with some of Hong Kong cinema’s most influential players like Sammo Hung (Winners & Sinners), Lau Ka-Leung (Legendary Weapons of China), David Chiang (The New One-Armed Swordsman), Shih Kien (Enter the Dragon), Gordon Liu (36th Chamber of Shaolin), Cheng Pei Pei (Come Drink With Me), Chor Yuen (The Magic Blade) and many others.

I personally could have done without some of the X-Men and The Replacement Killers clips but they were obviously thrown in to justify the influence Kong Kong films have on popular Hollywood action films of today. For a running time of 55 minutes, Chop Socky: Cinema Hong Kong does a damn good job of giving the viewer a quick, but efficient insight into one the world’s most exciting cinema. I especially recommend this documentary to anyone who still hasn’t got into Shaw Brothers films, as they seem to be showcased more than anything, and that’s a good thing.

Recommended.

Mighty Peking Man’s Rating: 8/10

The post Chop Socky: Cinema Hong Kong (2005) Review first appeared on cityonfire.com.

“The Adventurers” Chinese VCD Cover

Director: Ringo Lam
Cast: Andy Lau, Rosamund Kwan, Wu Chien Lien, David Chiang, Paul Chun Pui, Philip Ko Fei, Nam Yin, William Ho Ka Kui, Georges Kee Cheung, Four Tse Liu Shut, Ron Yuan, Victor Wong Chi Keung
Running Time: 109 min.

By Mighty Peking Man

The story should have been simple, but Ringo Lam’s The Adventurers has a plot that’s a convoluted cluster-f*ck to the max. As many unnecessary twists and turns it has, it was very easy to follow, but way too feeble to appreciate. They could have made 3 or 4 separate movies from everything they cobbled together (heck, 20 minutes of it could have been another entry in the Moment of Romance saga). I’m not sure if it was intentional to make a simple “revenge” so long and winding. If it was, they definitely took the wrong approach.

It does have some notable action scenes including: a Rambo-like sequence that has Andy launching some heavy firepower from the helicopter he’s flying (minus Stallone’s trademark yelling) and a more comedic shoot-out that involves a half-naked Wu Chien-Lien lying on top of Andy while he caps off the enemies around and between her legs.

Considering Lam’s impressive filmography and some serious Hong Kong talent, which includes Andy Lau, Rosamund Kwan and the very lovely Wu Chien-Lien, The Adventurers fails. But if you’re in it just for some quick, bloody action as well as some major explosions, then, you can’t go wrong. Just don’t expect that gritty, raw, realistic, intense sh*t we’ve known to love in a Ringo Lam film.

By the way, I have no idea why they call this film The Adventurers – perhaps, that’s the title they should have gave Ringo and his film crew for being so “adventurous” while making it.

Mighty Peking Man’s Rating: 5.5/10

The post Adventurers, The | aka The Great Adventurer (1995) Review first appeared on cityonfire.com.

"The Generation Gap" Chinese Theatrical Poster

Director: Chang Cheh
Producer: Runme Shaw
Writer: Chang Cheh
Cast: David Chiang, Ti Lung, Agnes Chan, Kong Ling, Lo Dik, Yen Shi Kwan, Dean Shek Tien, Alexander Fu Sheng, Fung Hak On, Ricky Hui Kun Ying, Kong Do
Running Time: 113 min.

By Mighty Peking Man

Generation Gap is about one man’s (David Chiang) long and winding journey to find happiness and freedom-of-choice in a world full of assholes, cunts and dick-heads. In other words: society.

Judging from the time this movie was made and where it takes place, it’s the same bullshit no matter what age or country we’re living in. People telling us how to live, what steps to take in our future, and who we choose to be with. We’ve all been there – constantly being compared to our more successful peers; and parental figures questioning our ability to do the same. Generation Gap pushes the boundaries on these issues and leave us with the question: who’s right, youth or adult?

Generation Gap is definitely a change of pace for a Chang Cheh title. Don’t expect lots of brawls and blood, because you’ll be disappointed. It’s more of a drama, which shouldn’t come to anyone’s surprise considering the film’s title (but then again, IVL’s box-art seems to market it as a martial arts movie). However, don’t let this scare you away from having a good time. It has a fair amount of violence for the harder-nosed viewers. If anything, fans of Chang Cheh’s lighter action movies – such as Delinquent – should be happy.

The more I see David Chiang perform, the more I think he was the prime candidate for the Tony Leung Chiu-Wai (Chungking Express) of his time. To better say it, Tony Leung Chiu-Wai is the David Chiang of today. In fact, they bare an odd resemblance, both in appearance and mannerisms. Ti Lung, who’s just as charismatic, also appears, but only in an extended cameo.

One thing’s for sure: Generation Gap is bell-bottom fury at its finest. In fact, this movie feels more like the 70’s than the 70’s itself. The songs that play in the movie, which are performed by the film’s costar (real-life singing sensation, Agnes Chan), will make any AM Gold hit seem timeless. The wardrobe, props and film sets are colorful, tacky and wickedly surreal. If you’re a fan of retro culture in any type of films, then Generation Gap is your visual bible.

Mighty Peking Man’s Rating: 7/10

The post Generation Gap, The (1973) Review first appeared on cityonfire.com.

“The Drug Addicts” Chinese Theatrical Poster

AKA: The Drug Addicts
Director: David Chiang
Cast: Ti Lung, Wong Chung (Wang Chung), Louise Lee (Si Kei), Paul Chun Pui (Paul Chin Pei), David Chiang, Lo Dik, Kong Do, Lee Hoi Sang, Tino Wong Cheung
Running Time: 94 min.

By Mighty Peking Man

So why were Chang Cheh, David Chiang and Ti Lung given the pseudonym “The Iron Triangle”?

Was it because of their long list of badass films that dominated the early 70’s, despite heavy competition with some dude named Bruce?; Was it because they were like an unbreakable bond of blood brothers (no pun intended) who tackled a number of totally different projects, as if they were a bunch of gutsy little school kids?

Whatever it was, the iron was held together tightly from all three directions.

Chang Cheh dug his two boys so much that he jump-started both of their first directorial features. Not only did David Chiang and Ti Lung had a genuine respect for one another, they also looked no further in finding leading men for each of their films. Ti Lung directed David Chiang in The Young Rebel and David Chiang directed Ti Lung in The Drug Addict, with Chang Cheh producing and co-directing both titles under his very own production company. Talk about a group effort.

In The Drug Addict, Kuan Cheng-chun (Ti Lung) is a kung fu teacher turned who turned into a heroin addict while Tseng Chien (Wang Chung) is a drug dealer with a conscious. The film opens with a penniless Ti Lung, strung out on heroin, begging for a free fix from Tseng. Feeling responsible for Kuan’s state, Tseng refuses his request for his own good. Later that day, the two bump heads once again. At this point, Tseng is still feeling bad for him, he decides to make Kuan kick his habit by locking him into an abandoned cabin overnight. After endless hours of hysterical desperation for heroin, Kuan wakes up to a new day to find that he has just been given the favor of a lifetime.

Thankful for Tseng’s help, Kuan is back on top form and training again at his kung fu school. Meanwhile, a cop (Paul Chin Pei) is hot on his trail. Aware of Kuan’s addiction, the cop questions him about his drug transactions with Tseng. Kuan explains that Tseng’s indeed a dealer, but an “different” one that helped him kick his drug habit. The cop assures Kuan that if he helps the system, he’d also be helping Tseng break free from the dangerous cult-like drug ring he’s employed with.

Things start to get ugly when Tseng’s drug bosses (headed be veteran bad guys Lo Dik, Kong Do aka “The Human Testicle,” and Lee Hoi Sang) start to inspect him because of his shady “nice guy” actions. To test his loyalty, they give him an odd job of murdering a certain someone, and that someone is Kuan.

I give David Chiang props for trying something dark and unique with The Drug Addict. However, the movie is just as dull as its title.

The mixture of martial arts action and rat-like heroin addicts is just plain ridiculous. I’m not sure if I can explain my self correctly, but let’s just say the two don’t go together. Maybe if it was more fun-filled (like Jackie Chan’s consumption of alcohol in The Drunken Master) and didn’t take itself so seriously, it could have worked. Watching Ti Lung in dirty clothes, all sweaty and implying that he’d suck dick for drugs just didn’t do anything for me. Thanks to Wang Chung, this portion of the film is tolerable.

The film slightly redeems itself once Ti Lung’s characters gets off the dope. At this point, The Drug Addict turns into a decent action film with some sweet brawls from both Ti Lung and Wang Chung (who sports the exact same long-sleeved shirt we wore in Police Force). However, the earlier, over-dramatic drug-themes have already taken their toll and clouds the possibility of making this a noteworthy flick.

Oh, and by the way, who does Ti Lung think he is, Bruce Lee? The clothes, the sunglasses, the hair and even some of his mannerisms reflect “The Little Dragon.” Should I even mention the “borrowed” snippets of Lalo Schifrin’s Enter The Dragon soundtrack? I mean, it was 1973, Bruce Lee had just died and opportunity was knocking for whoever wanted to try and capture the intensity of Hong Kong’s biggest star. I say this with some tongue and cheek, but The Drug Addict is pretty close to being a Bruceploitation flick.

To sum it all up, The Drug Addict is worth watching just to see David Chiang’s work behind the camera. Technically, he does a fine job, it’s just the story could have used some heavy re-writing. If you want to see a better “Iron Triangle” side-project, check out the remarkable The Young Rebel.

Mighty Peking Man’s Rating: 4/10

The post Drug Addict, The (1973) Review first appeared on cityonfire.com.

"Anonymous Heroes" Chinese Theatrical Poster

Director: Chang Cheh
Producer: Sir Run Run Shaw
Cast: David Chiang, Ti Lung, Cheng Li, Ku Feng, Wang Chung, Tong Dik, Yen Shi Kwan
Running Time: 100 min.

By Joe909

Most old school movies ask for a suspension of disbelief, but Anonymous Heroes asks you to abandon all concept of reality. If you buy into the film, you will be treated to a light-hearted (albeit violent) adventure, but if you don’t, you’ll be rolling your eyes for 90 minutes. I’ve found the best way to appreciate it is to treat it like an Airplane or Naked Gun-type movie, though I’m sure that was not Chang Cheh’s aim.

David Chiang and Ti Lung are buddies who like to gamble, whore, and fight each other. Ku Feng appears as a representative from the resistance, but we are never told if he represents the Nationalists or the Communists. He wants to hire Chiang and Lung to steal a cargo shipment of rifles from the corrupt army, and deliver them to the resistance. We’ve already stumbled onto our first obstacle. Why would Feng want these two guys for such a huge job, guys who have nothing to do with the resistance? And why would Chiang and Lung accept so eagerly, even when they find out they won’t be paid for the job? Chiang at least seems hesitant at first, but after Ku Feng gives him a half-hearted lecture, Chiang accepts the job. Chiang’s girl Cheng Lee shows up in time to jump on board, even though she at first demands payment. But when she’s told it will be to help a good cause, she’s all for it. It’s very hard to buy.

Here’s where we get to the fun stuff. Cheng’s father happens to be an officer in the army, and she tries to get two army cargo trucks from him. So, she basically emasculates him in from of his soldiers, pouting and demanding the trucks. And he gives in to her! Chiang and Lung then sneak onto the base and get some uniforms. Now their plan is in full swing. They next easily kidnap a general and escort him to the base that’s holding the 3,000 rifles. Here we see the type of heroes we’ve been given: Chiang, all grins, shoots a soldier point blank, in cold blood, so Ku Feng can take his uniform. Never mind that such a close-range shot would leave a hole in said uniform, not to mention blood.

This leads to my favorite moments in the movie, as the two “anonymous heroes” take the general into the base and try to convince the dude in charge that they’re supposed to pick up the rifles. You’d think they wouldn’t fool anyone, two cocky guys who obviously have no military discipline, escorting a profusely-sweating and nervous general. And every time the kidnapped general doesn’t do what they want, Chiang and Lung will put a pistol to his head, right in front of the guys they’re trying to fool! And no one notices! It’s sheer comic genius, though again I doubt this was Chang’s intent.

But it gets better. The guy in charge won’t budge unless he gets official documentation. So Chiang and Lung take off on borrowed motorcycles to get it! First of all, they don’t even have a clue what this document is! And more importantly, they aren’t even real soldiers! So there goes careful planning. You’d think the kidnapped general might take this moment to tell the guy in command that he’s been abducted, but instead he just continues to comply with Ku Feng, who again threatens him with a pistol every few moments. And still no one notices. By this point I was rolling.

After several coincidental twists, our heroes finally do get the rifles, which are placed into their cargo trucks. Moments after taking off, the dictator in charge figures out what’s going on, and we head into chase territory. More comedy ensues as Chiang, Lung, and Feng hold off several soldiers on horseback, shooting at them from the top of the train. The movie shows its age here, with Lung and Chiang trading “action hero” poses as they shoot at their pursuers. Eventually the train crashes, leading to the infamous shot of an obvious toy train dropping into a small pool of water. It looks very, very bad.

More hijinks ensue once the heroes get to their destination city. Feng has been killed en route, so the boys aren’t sure who their contact is. They get fooled easily, of course, which leads to a melee in a gambling hall. Chiang again shows his incompetence in the martial arts, basically waving his arms around and bitch-smacking his opponents. Ti Lung looks much more believable. Chiang gets captured, meets the dictator, and falls for it when he’s told he’s free to go.

This of course leads to Chiang unknowingly leading the entire army to their hideout, and Chiang and Lung then take on all of them. Wave after wave of soldiers come after our two heroes, never once realizing that they could just shoot them. Instead they harmlessly swing their rifles or jab with their bayonets. Chiang and Lung decimate a full squadron of men in a scene so over the top in its unbelievability that you have to admire it.

But hey, this is a Chang Cheh movie, so you know how it’s going to end. This one’s just a bit more light hearted than most. Another fun element of the movie is spotting all the familiar faces in the cast. You’ll even catch Wang Chung, the Delinquent himself, as an army officer. The gore factor isn’t high, but there’s a lot of that bright red Shaws blood flowing at the end. So in conclusion, the movie is enjoyable, but the severe lack of believability and utter stupidity of the main characters harms it in the end.

Joe909’s Rating: 7/10

The post Anonymous Heroes (1971) Review first appeared on cityonfire.com.

“The Taxi Driver” Chinese Theatrical Poster

Director: Pao Hsueh Lieh
Cast: David Chiang, Wang Chung, Lam Jan Kei (Lin Chen-Chi), Danna, Yen Shi Kwan
Running Time: 94 min.

By Mighty Peking Man

In Taxi Driver, David Chiang plays a mentally unstable Vietnam war veteran who works as nighttime taxi driver in a city whose perceived decadence and sleaze feeds his urge to violently lash out, attempting to save a teenage prostitute in the process…

Just kidding.

This David Chiang flick (which was made a year before the De Niro movie) has nothing to do with Martin Scorsese’s Taxi Driver, other than the two sharing the same title.

This taxi driver tale is, for the most part, light-hearted in comparison. Part drama, a little bit of comedy, some cornball, and a tad of action – it’s pretty much all over the place. Even for a 1975 Hong Kong flick, it’s uneven, choppy, and doesn’t really belong to any particular genre.

A good portion of the movie is dedicated to a bank heist, in which a group of thugs force David Chiang’s character to be their getaway driver… (but let’s not get into that.)

If you’re expecting lots of solid kung fu action, gore, or some other kind of Rated-R activity, you’ll be disappointed. Sure, it does have some violence, a tame sex scene (is that Betty Ting Pei?) and a nipple shot or two; but mark my word, it’s pretty tame.

Hopefully, I’m not making it sound like it’s an awful movie. It’s not. If anything, it’s interesting. I mean, where else are you going to see David Chiang and Wang Chung play adventurous taxi drivers? Besides, David Chiang’s girlfriend (Lam Jan Kei) is cute as hell.

Mighty Peking Man’s Rating: 6/10

The post Taxi Driver, The (1975) Review first appeared on cityonfire.com.