Film: Ip Man 2 Release date: 7th March 2011 Certificate: 15 Running time: 104 mins Director: Wilson Yip Starring: Donnie Yen, Simon Yam, Sammo Hung, Huang Xiaoming, Darren Shahlavi Genre: Action/Biography/History/Martial Arts Studio: Cine Asia Format: DVD & Blu-ray Country: Hong Kong
The fifth collaboration between director Wilson Yip and leading man Donnie Yen is a sequel to their mega-hit Ip Man - an epic martial arts period actioner that not only established a brand new Hong Kong cinematic folk hero, but also showed a new side of Yen’s acting ability, as well as featuring some of the best Wing Chun kung fu choreography ever committed to film. With Ip Man 2, can they clear their own high bar? Hong Kong, 1950. Having escaped occupied China, Wing Chun Master Ip Man (Yen) is now living in Hong Kong with his pregnant wife Wing Sing (Lynn Hung) and trying to scrape a living by teaching his art. But in a colonial Hong Kong still suffering the after-effects of war, where water is rationed and the local martial arts masters are charged a protection fee by the British authorities, times are hard, and day after day goes by without a single potential student joining Master Ip’s inconveniently located rooftop school.
This all changes when Wong Leung (Huang), a cocky street-tough, wanders in to see what Wing Chun is all about. After he and his friends are humbled by Ip’s superior skills, they accept him as their Master, and he soon has a flourishing business. However, as a recent arrival to Hong Kong, Ip is not aware that the local martial arts community is a tight-knit, pseudo-Triad overseen by Master Hung Chan-nam (Sammo Hung), who demands that the new Master prove himself a worthy teacher in a series of challenges.
After forming an initially grudging, mutual respect for Master Hung, Ip is disappointed to learn that he demands a monthly protection fee from all martial arts teachers. But Hung, in turn, is under the control of a corrupt British police officer, paying him a protection fee to ensure the kung-fu schools can operate in peace. And when the arrogant boxer ‘Twister’ (Shahlavi) comes to Hong Kong for a tournament, tensions between the oppressed Chinese and the colonial bullies threaten to explode - with Masters Hung and Ip destined to find themselves right in the middle of the fray…
As has been discussed in other reviews of Hong Kong movies on this very site, the fact that there was a quick sequel to Ip Man is hardly a surprise. The first film did great box-office in Hong Kong and China, and picked up a slew of Asian film awards; it was also well-received in international territories, thanks largely to its lavish production values, terrific action sequences, and a charismatic central performance from star Donnie Yen. It precipitated the creation of a small subgenre in Hong Kong films, centred on a real-life martial arts master who had, until then, existed only as a footnote in biographies of the late, great Bruce Lee (his most illustrious disciple) - in between Ip Man 1 and 2 came The Legend Is Born - Ip Man, starring Dennis To (who, somewhat bizarrely, has a cameo in this movie as a troublesome disciple of Sammo Hung’s character) as a younger version of Master Ip; and Tony Leung Chiu-wai has taken the role in Wong Kar-wai’s still-in-production The Grandmaster. But as the first entry in the Ip Man cinematic canon, featuring a career-defining performance from Donnie Yen and endorsement from the master’s son Ip Chun (credited as a technical advisor), Wilson’s Yip’s movie has the distinction of being the closest thing to the ‘official’ and ‘definitive’ Ip Man movie. Hence, the sequel.
Pleasingly, after an initial recap of the first film, Ip Man 2 establishes a measured and deliberate pace, avoiding any temptation to launch into a simple re-tread of its predecessor, or move straight into the action. Like in Tsui Hark’s Once Upon A Time In China series a generation earlier (to which Yip’s movies now deserve comparison), the sequel attempts to mine some new storytelling territory from the off. Master Ip is in a new location and a new predicament in the early goings of part two, with new tests of his characteristic dignity and righteous nature. His developing relationship with first student Wong Leung is unlike any dynamic shared with any character in the previous movie, and allows the audience a deeper insight into Master Ip, the man and martial arts philosopher.
Ip Man 2 is at its strongest in its first hour, as it chronicles the establishment and flourishing of Master Ip’s martial arts school, with meditations on the principles of Wing Chun (indeed, both movies serve as a fabulous commercial for this practical and economical self-defence style). And Ip’s rapport with Wong Leung is a more interesting one than any featured in the first movie, as the brash and obnoxious street kid is set on the road to maturity through his martial instruction (in real life, Wong would be the disciple placed in charge of the teenage Bruce Lee’s day-to-day teaching). Yip’s directorial command is much more evident here than in the first film, as he lets the characters build and play off each other, the narrative and emotional arcs developing at a rather gentle pace that nevertheless regularly bursts into scenes of combat that never feel forced or not germane to the story.
1950s Hong Kong is sumptuously created, even if astute and knowledgeable viewers will spot the odd anachronistic detail (a poster advertising the Sonny Liston-Cassius Clay fight being perhaps the most egregious). This is an even bigger production than the first movie, and it is to the filmmakers’ credit that a good portion of the running time is given over to quieter, human drama, rather than wall-to-wall bombastic action. The early sequences of Master Ip, the family man, trying to support his heavily pregnant wife and their son, too embarrassed to chase his young students for the school fees that his life literally depends on, are engaging thanks to the combination of understated acting and Yip’s resistance of showing the poverty of the era with a heavy hand. In its first two acts, Ip Man 2 is that rare beast - a Hong Kong martial arts movie with a dramatic foundation that is genuinely character-based.
Act two sees Yip and screenwriter Edmond Wong move up a gear with the introduction of rival students to Master Ip’s, led by Master Hung, a Hung Kuen (occasionally referred to as Hung Gar) stylist who owns and operates a fish market, and carries himself as much like a Triad kingpin as a martial arts teacher. This again, brings a new character dynamic to proceedings, as he and Master Ip develop a mutual respect for each other’s abilities, while butting heads over their respective approaches to navigating the sometimes difficult and oppressive nature of living under colonial British rule. Master Hung’s deeply conflicted approach, which perhaps involves a soul-destroying modification of his own beliefs and patriotism in an effort to protect his compatriots as best he can, is in direct contrast with Master Ip’s more immovable stance that a martial artist should not accept extortion under any circumstances. It’s a clash born as much out of personality as standard kung fu macho posturing, and is all the more compelling for it.
However, in the middle of act two, the filmmakers attempt another gear-shift - one that is not as smooth as its first. Meandering away from Ip Man to Master Hung, and exploring his dealings with the racist, extortionate British authorities (in the person of Charlie Mayer’s corrupt police officer), the narrative loses focus and leaves its protagonist stranded on the periphery of the main plot, without a real objective of his own, other than to preserve his integrity. Thus, when Master Hung’s bullying students pick a gang fight with Ip’s disciples, the resulting ruckus lacks the weight of earlier action scenes.
The script sacrifices its more interesting story to become a rather more familiar Chinese vs. Evil Oppressor narrative, which is perhaps disappointing coming off the back of a first hour pleasantly devoid of the broadly caricatured foreign figures that have been turning up all-too regularly in recent Chinese-language action movies. Personified by Darren Shahlavi’s ‘Twister’, a hulking boxing champion with an air of the period gangster about him, the British colonialists are quickly introduced as the enemy - Twister’s flagrant disrespect for ‘Chinese boxing’ sets in motion a chain-of-events that will result in a brace of hard-hitting, inter-discipline duels that see the righteous Chinese heroes stand up for the honour of their country and its martial arts traditions.
Not only is this story’s change of direction a little disappointing because it is what we might expect from a more basic Hong Kong martial arts film, but it is also - as was the depiction of the Japanese in part one - somewhat troubling for the viewer. A sense of nationalism in Hong Kong/Chinese cinema is nothing in new, but as the world moves further and further away from the eras depicted in period films, it is both fascinating and bizarre to witness the gusto with which certain Chinese filmmakers present broad, ugly caricatures of past-oppressors in the name of bolstering contemporary national pride and identity. If anything, Ip Man 2 represents a deepening of this ‘problem’ – the first film’s principal villain, Hiroyuki Ikeuchi’s General Miura, at least had a recognizable sense of warrior’s honour and respect for Ip Man; his desire to fight him born more out of a need to test himself against a credible opponent than any sense of oppression. No such element is afforded to Shahlavi’s ‘Twister’, whose personality outweighs even his heavyweight physique, and remains a rather one-note villain. This is not to take away from Shahlavi, who works hard in the role (especially in the combat scenes), but is not afforded the screen-time or nuance to flesh out his antagonist, as the filmmakers take no chances at all that the audience won’t be clamouring for the defeat of the ‘gwailo’.
But if Ip Man 2 strikes an inconsistent balance between its first and second hours, it scores consistently - and consistently high - in the other areas that matter. Once again, Donnie Yen delivers a terrific performance, building on the quiet grace that so surprised long-time admirers in the first movie, and adding to it a sense of dignity that is both appealing and, occasionally, affecting. The early scenes with Ip Man sitting quietly, smiling through the frustration of having a school with no students, are rather poignant, and ensure that even newcomers to the Ip Man legend will accept him as their hero right from the off. Yen is destined to become as synonymous with this role as Jet Li was with Wong Fei-hung.
As the conflicted Master Hung, Sammo Hung brings all of the weight and gravitas acquired over his nearly five decades in the fight film industry, commanding the screen and audience as easily as he does the kung fu masters and students he oversees. Huang Xiao-ming is engaging and appealing as the hot-headed Wong Leung, even if the character is the most disserved by the story shift, more or less disappearing from the film in the second half. Throughout the cast, there are pleasing guest appearances from returning faces like Fan Sui-wong and Simon Yam - and if their various scenes don’t always feel absolutely essential to Ip Man 2’s core narrative, their presence is nevertheless a clear indication of the filmmakers’ attempt to create not your usual quick cash-in, but a bona fide martial arts saga, which lends both films an invaluable sense of prestige.
As action choreographer, Sammo Hung has much more to work with than he did previously, staging a series of unique and thrilling battles, pitting Ip Man’s Wing Chun style against a variety of other disciplines, most notably Hung Kuen and Western boxing. His work here exceeds that of the first movie, and his collaboration with cinematographer Poon Hang-sang (veteran of Jet Li’s Fearless, among other notable entries in the genre) makes thrilling use of Kenneth Mak’s gorgeous production design - the highlight being the table-top fight between Ip Man and Master Hung. Unique, inventive and thrilling in its conception and execution, it is a worthy successor to the actors’ maiden dust-up in Yip’s earlier Kill Zone, and another reminder of Hung’s genius with staging action scenes.
Ip Man 2 is not without its issues and flaws, but in broadening out the canvas of the mythology, Wilson Yip has crafted a sequel that deserves comparison with the Once Upon A Time In China series. What next for part three? Should Donnie Yen overcome the trepidation he has expressed in interviews about trying to top his work in part two? Tantalisingly, there remains at least one more relationship to extract from the Ip Man mythology - the one between Master Ip and his teenaged disciple, Bruce Lee. In a splendid coda to Ip Man 2, this story is teased when a precocious youngster swaggers into Master Ip’s school and requests to be taken on as a student. Played by Jiang Dai-yan - a child actor who not only bears an uncanny physical resemblance to Lee at that age, but also a fine flair for mimicking the ‘Little Dragon’s’ signature mannerisms - Lee’s appearance is a crowd-pleasing one. In fact, one may even go as far as saying that it begins to deliver on an unspoken promise to audiences (especially international) that the Ip Man films would, to some extent, explore the early life of the martial arts movie legend. Given that Lee’s name has been used prominently in the two films’ promotion, it seems only fitting that he make an appearance, and - for all the flaws in the narratives of the first two films - a final movie focusing on the positive effect martial arts teaching had on a young icon-in-waiting who was, at that stage of his life, something of a troublesome delinquent is entirely desirable. Reportedly, image rights issues with Lee’s estate prevented the filmmakers from featuring him more prominently in this film, but one would hope these are resolved if and when Yen and Yip decide to conclude their trilogy.
Builds upon the groundwork of part one, and exceeds it in the areas most audiences will care about - acting, production and action. If the depiction of foreigners remains an issue in the genre, it should nevertheless not obscure the fact that Ip Man 2 is supreme, peerless entertainment where it counts. JN
Having defeated the best fighters of the Imperial Japanese army in occupied Shanghai, IP Man and his family settle in post-war Hong Kong.
Struggling to make a living, Master IP (Donnie Yen) opens a kung fu school to bring his celebrated art of Wing Chun to the troubled youth of Hong Kong. His growing reputation soon brings challenges from powerful enemies, including pre-eminent Hung Gar master, Hung Quan (Sammo Hung). However, when corrupt colonial officials stage a life-or-death contest with formidable British boxer, Twister (Darren Shahlavi), to humiliate the Chinese people, the masters quickly forget their differences.
Soon, the eyes of the nation are on the one man capable of securing a victory - Grandmaster IP Man!
Film: IP Man 2 Release date: 7th March 2011 Certificate: 15 Running time: 104 mins Director: Wilson Yip Starring: Donnie Yen, Simon Yam, Sammo Hung, Huang Xiaoming, Darren Shahlavi Genre: Action/Biography/History/Martial Arts Studio: Cine Asia Format: DVD & Blu-ray Country: Hong Kong
DVD Special Features:
• Audio commentary by Hong Kong cinema expert Bey Logan
• Trailer gallery
• Shooting diary
• Making of
• Four big scenes (discussion with Kenneth Mak and Wilson Yip)
• Deleted scenes
• Gala premiere
• Interviews gallery
• Three Cine Asia world exclusive documentaries: ‘The Wing Chun Connection’, ‘Wing Chun in Action’ and ‘Legacy Of The Master’
Film: Hero Release date: 21st February 2005 Certificate: 12 Running time: 95 mins Director: Yimou Zhang Starring: Jet Li, Tony Leung Chiu Wai, Maggie Cheung, Ziyi Zhang, Donnie Yen Genre: Action/Adventure/Martial Arts Studio: Miramax Format: DVD Country: Hong Kong/China
While Zhang Yimou stuns audiences with this martial arts adventure where cinematography takes to the foreground, the message conveyed to some through the story has managed to spark debate over Yimou’s political implications of the film. But with the themes of love and war at centre stage in China, no less – what else can be expected? Set in 3rd century BC China, the King of Qin (Daoming Chen) is on a mission to bring all the surrounding warring dominions in to one ‘united’ kingdom. Naturally, war is met along the way, sparking three illustrious assassins to seek personal revenge on the king, and end all the seemingly irrational destruction he is causing around the lands. For security, no-one is allowed within a hundred paces of the king unless proving their faith to him somehow. Enter Nameless (Jet Li), a warrior brandishing the three swords of the assassins (thus proving their defeat by his hand) who is allowed within ten paces.
Four different versions of the story ensue, each truer than the last, of how the assassins meet their demise. Essentially in all versions, there is first a battle between Nameless and Sky (Donnie Yen) in a chess house, where Sky meets his downfall. Then, there is a battle between Nameless and Flying Snow (Maggie Cheung), where she also loses out to Nameless’ unmatched skill. The third assassin, Broken Sword (Tony Leung), is also Flying Snow’s lover, and complications between the two allow for Nameless to obtain the last sword. However, there is a twist in the story, as it slowly becomes revealed that Nameless is not actually who he says he is, and now that he is within ten paces of the king, knowledge and righteousness put him to the test to discover if he really can be a true warrior…
Perhaps Yimou’s previous experience as a cinematographer influences the weight given to the film’s abounding aesthetic. However, credit must be given to this film’s cinematographer, Christopher Doyle, as the film is so amazingly visually rich. The individual versions of the story are told with different colour schemes; saturated primary colours, which provide evocative contrasts to otherwise beautiful but barren landscapes.
Tan Dun’s score provides a constant melancholy theme throughout, which is soft and dramatic, and nearly always present. This gives credence to the film’s existence as a piece of art as much as an entertaining film. Of course, drums are at hand for the fight scenes and moments of tension, which add authenticity to the Chinese culture of the film.
The storytelling should not be overlooked either. Its Rashomon-style flashbacks add layers of depth - four to be precise - to energise the story. They allow for not only four different stories to be told, but four different versions of assassin characters to be explored. In this way, Yimou gets to play with the audience by keeping it guessing until the very end.
It is difficult when watching and listening to a language so completely different from English to be able to fully appreciate what is being said, and how it is being expressed. From every other aspect that the renowned cast can be scrutinised from, none of them disappoint. They adhere to the choreography of the duel scenes with such natural ability, and although the expression of emotion is not at the forefront of the film, each carries a great weight of believability in their (many) roles.
We are not met with copious amounts of dialogue, and combat scenes fit to take your breath away seem to occupy more time in the film than any speaking. The general lack of conversation aligns with the elemental approach of the film, and so this is not a problem, however, the same ‘lost in translation’ issue can be said of the script. A western audience cannot be sure to receive the same message as what is understood by a Chinese speaking audience.
Following in the same vein, the most important feature in the film, Broken Sword’s depiction of the word ‘Tianxia’, accurately translates as ‘all under heaven’ (i.e. the world), whereas the western translation is ‘our land’, as in China. Both notions imply distinct differences, and hit on a critical debate over the film and Yimou’s intentions. Critics of Yimou have said the film’s approval by the Chinese government admit it to be a film of pro-totalitarian rule, of which Yimou has denied. Nevertheless the film certainly makes an impact politically, emotionally and visually.
Only those opposed to the wuxia genre may want to give it a wide birth, as there are a lot of combat episodes, however, those able to appreciate the elegance behind finely choreographed martial fighting, clever storytelling, and visual mastery will not want to miss it. MI
Film: Hero Release date: 21st February 2005 Certificate: 12 Running time: 95 mins Director: Yimou Zhang Starring: Jet Li, Tony Leung Chiu Wai, Maggie Cheung, Ziyi Zhang, Donnie Yen Genre: Action/Adventure/Martial Arts Studio: Miramax Format: DVD Country: Hong Kong/China
Zhang Yimous’ sumptuous historical warrior epic certainly lives up to, if not surpasses, the two years of excited hype that this is the most expensive Chinese film ever made. Falling firmly within the wuxia genre, this breathtaking (although sometimes mind boggling) piece of cinematography softly coaxes you through a dramatic journey of loyalty, love and sacrifice that deals with both personal and political issues without feeling as though you are having to wade through a torrent of boringly obvious morals and ethics. The determined dream of King Qin (Daoming Chen) to become the first emperor of China draws the attention of three deadly assassins from neighbouring warring kingdoms. It seems as though there is nobody who can defeat the killers until an enigmatic nameless warrior, surprisingly called Nameless (Jet Li), appears to seek a private audience with the naturally wary king.
Nameless claims to have battled and beaten all three of the king’s enemies - Broken Sword (Tony Leung), Flying Snow (Maggie Cheung) and Long Sky (Donnie Yen) - and modestly explains the details of the slayings. Even with the dead assassins’ weapons as proof of their demise at his feet, the king is unconvinced and proceeds to put forward a completely different version of how he thinks events played out.
Two powerful men with two opposing powerful stories, but which is the right one?
The actors carry off a solid set of performances, creating powerful, complex characters. Particularly of note is Jet Li’s portrayal of Nameless, our perfectly inscrutable hero warrior, who manages to subtly layer his character, leaving the audience questioning whether his motives are entirely honourable and honest. Maggie Cheung’s never faltering grace and beauty also shines through by combing a lethal combination of femme fatale with the ability to slay opponents with the ease of a warm knife through butter.
The director stretches the delicious battle scenes so that they make up a huge portion of the film, and revised in different ways according to who is telling the tale. Time is taken to create a tantalising flow of impressive frames that only serves to whet the appetite for the next. The direction is wonderfully unique, a prime example being when Nameless and Long Sky are engaged in battle purely in their minds. It is undoubtedly amazing visual art, but the audience would be forgiven for thinking they were being deliberately swept away by the set design to detract from the sometimes dubious plot points.
But, to be honest, it’s hard to care or be bothered to rack our brains over such mere doubts when there is so much more to be inspired by. Christopher Doyle is in charge of photography and has managed to create a masterpiece. Whether it’s the goose pimple inducing battle sequences, the majestic serenity of the floating assassins, or the fantastically vibrant use of nature and landscape that takes your breath away, it’s the perfection of imagery that makes Hero a must to watch.
Although the backdrop is arguably one of the most beautiful in cinematography, the halting nature of the narrative doesn’t give the characters enough opportunity to open up and develop to their fullest potential. Confusing changes in the storytelling and the battle scenes means the audience spends more time trying to figure this out and has less time concentrating on the characters. Subsequently, the film lacks the emotional appeal that made Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon such a winner.
Still, Zhang Yimou certainly has succeeded in making a special martial arts spectacle, although to merely class Hero as a martial arts film doesn’t give justice to the sublime richness of the movie. Although the warriors float around the screen as if part of a tightly woven, intricate dance, the audience knows that the possibility of blood, pain and death is ever present - a poetic brutality if you will - but these moments are kept comfortably waiting in the wings whilst the senses are overwhelmed by the genius of the picture.
All in all, this beautifully beguiling story is a timeless action movie, a heavyweight title clincher that will enjoy both commercial success as well as satisfying lovers of foreign films. At times lacking in plot substance and slightly confusing which, possibly, has been anticipated by the director, prompting the use of colour coding to indicate through which eyes the story is being told and also the individual stages in the story. However, this is a mere spot of rust in an otherwise impeccable suit of armour. Hero is an awe inspiring experience that should be sought by all movie lovers.
Film: Legend Of The Fist: The Return Of Chen Zhen Release date: 31st January 2011 Certificate: 18 Running time: 102 mins Director: Andrew Lau Wai-keung Starring: Donnie Yen, Shu Qi, Anthony Wong, Huang Bo, Zhou Yang Genre: Action/Drama/History/Martial Arts Studio: Metrodome Format: DVD & Blu-ray Country: Hong Kong/China
One is an acclaimed director, the other an ever-growing martial arts man-of-the-moment. Their source material is Bruce Lee’s finest hour. How does this first collaboration between Andrew Lau and Donnie Yen shape up? In this sequel to the mid-90s television remake of Bruce Lee’s Fist Of Fury, Legend Of The Fist sees Chen Zhen returning from fighting in World War One and assuming the identity of a fallen comrade in order to evade the Japanese Imperialists who believed that he died years before.
Becoming a partner in the famed Casablanca nightclub in Shanghai, run by the likeable Mr Liu (Wong), he falls for the charms of Kiki (Shu Qi) a beautiful singer/hostess at the club, not knowing that she is really a Japanese spy.
As the Japanese Imperial might grows stronger and more impressive, Chen’s sense of righteousness prevents him from simply sitting in the shadows. Adopting a secret identity as ‘The Masked Warrior’, he stalks the streets at night and sabotages the Japanese villains’ assassination attempts, quickly becoming a scourge of the Imperialists, and a mythologized hero to the locals.
Challenged to a wager by the evil Colonel Chikarasishi (Kohata), whereby they bet on how many dissident Chinese intellectuals the Japanese can assassinate before ‘The Masked Warrior’, Chen Zhen is drawn deeper and deeper into a desperate fight for freedom…
Opening with an intense First World War/No Man’s Land sequence featuring Donnie Yen in super-heroic mode, Legend Of The Fist establishes an extremely arresting visual style that sets the tone for a classic extravaganza of action. Along the way, the ‘classic’ adjective begins to fade, but the film remains very much the kind of thrilling fight movie that Hong Kong and China do better than anyone else.
This opening sequence, featuring Yen’s Chen Zhen battling German soldiers with just his fists, feet and occasional knives, is pure cinematic adrenaline - Lau’s stylised visuals and Yen’s kinetic choreography creating a comic book-like Saving Private Ryan. Not only does the intensity and breathtaking action set a bar so high that what follows does not always clear it, but its brief exploration of the experience of Chinese labourers conscripted (in lieu of an army) to aid the British in World War One is fascinating and unfamiliar - and instantly compelling. By the time the film returns to 1920s Shanghai, one can’t help feeling that they are leaving a more interesting film (perhaps even several) behind to tell the kind of story we’ve seen many times before.
The comic book sensibility of the prologue is retained in a very colourful depiction of occupied Shanghai, which is a pleasing layer of a gloss on a film that settles into a straightforward story of rebellion, plotting, counter-plotting and treachery, enlivened mostly by Anthony Wong’s gravitas, Shu Qi’s luminescent star quality (never more in evidence), and the presence of Donnie Yen promising that some sort of wicked beat-down is never too far away.
The film aims for political intrigue, but keeps it mostly hinted-at and often off-screen. It might play well for local audiences who can fill in the gaps, but these gaps will be occasionally frustrating for an international viewer. The filmmakers do little to prompt us to care about the story and characters beyond painting very distinct shades of good (the Chinese) and evil (everyone else, especially the Japanese). Most interesting, and even troubling, from a cinema point of view, is the presence of Gordon Chan in the credits, as both producer and co-writer. Chan directed the 1994 remake of Fist Of Fury, starring Jet Li as Chen Zhen and, in that film, showed at least a willingness to take an even-handed approach to his depiction of the Japanese. Sixteen years later and that even-handedness is sacrificed in favour of a straight-faced, chest-thumping nationalism, which is uncomfortably close to propaganda. Without seeking to excuse the atrocities of Imperialist Japanese of the era, nor dismiss the suffering of the Chinese of the time, one nevertheless is prompted to ponder if the filmmakers might be better served taking a colder, more distant view of the historical period - with several characters having monologues about the importance of national unity, making references to the list of foreign forces throughout history who tried and failed to overrun China, it is inescapable that the film aims to speak to contemporary audiences, as though China still fights the battles of centuries ago. A cause for concern, yes, but also fascinating from an academic standpoint.
But the nationalism question is really one for the viewers to informally discuss after the credits have rolled. There is more to Legend Of The Fist, though perhaps not as much more as a film this expensive warrants. It is overly straightforward, at times frustratingly so, the script doing nothing to elicit audience sympathy beyond piling one Japanese atrocity upon another (assassination, hanging, torture, rape), near-pummelling the viewer into agreeing that vengeance must be sought, even if we’re not angrily clamouring for it ourselves.
The film’s opening act - after the ingenuous prologue - serves to get all its characters in place so as to justify the action sequences most punters are paying for. Unfortunately, this results in something of a plodding, listless narrative in which one struggles to fathom certain characters’ motivations and aims, and many seem to have none at all - for example, Anthony Wong’s sympathetic nightclub owner has no real objective other than to keep his club open and leave his hands clean of blood (admirable, to be sure, but the character hovers around the story, adding no drive or momentum to the narrative). Chen Zhen is on a crusade to protect Chinese dissidents from the oppressive Japanese but, aside from an intriguing wager made between Chen and the Japanese villain Chikarasishi (that would have perhaps made the basis for an excellent action film all on its own), the film seems to assume that ‘fighting the Japanese’ is all the justification that is required.
That the film is not especially emotionally involving is a surprise when one considers who is at the helm. Andrew Lau is responsible for some of the more visceral and engaging moments in recent Hong Kong popular cinema (consider his Young And Dangerous movies, or the original Infernal Affairs), but here he shows an oddly clumsy hand with character and emotion. A low-key dialogue scene between Chen Zhen and Kiki, where each almost stumble upon the other’s real identity, is an alienating mix of repetitive questioning and overblown fake-outs, none of which creates any suspense. This romantic subplot (which develops along a pleasantly chaste and subtle trajectory) culminates in an emotional climax that would have had immense impact had their earlier flirtation been relatable. The actors work hard, and have chemistry, but the filmmakers give them little to work with beyond the expectation that the audience simply ‘knows’ the beautiful leading lady and debonair leading man must have feelings for each other. Viewers have been conditioned to expect more convincing humanity from Andrew Lau.
More curious is Lau’s liberal use of homage - not just Bruce Lee in general, but The Dark Knight (the framing and general presentation of Yen’s ‘Masked Warrior’ is highly reminiscent of Christopher Nolan’s depiction of Batman) and even Mad Men (Chen Zhen’s identity swap) - which effectively stamps out the directorial voice that boomed so loudly through every frame of his Young And Dangerous series. Indeed, Legend Of The Fist draws direct comparison with some of Lau’s misfires from a decade ago - Storm Riders and A Man Called Hero - where his feel for character and moral ambiguity could not coexist with the demands of a big budget epic movie. Legend Of The Fist is better than both those films, but it does not come close to the cinematic brilliance of Lau’s Triad movies.
Lau benefits from a committed cast that works very hard. Donnie Yen has perhaps always carried himself like a leading man but, here, he confirms his status as a peer of, rather than successor to, Jackie Chan or Jet Li. Infusing his natural, unsuppressible ‘badassery’ with the stoically righteous and relatable qualities that first came to the fore in Ip Man, Yen holds the movie together, and keeps the audience on his side even when they’re not always sure what, exactly, he wants to gain beyond beating up Japanese people. He may be no Bruce Lee, but he is a magnificent Donnie Yen.
Legend Of The Fist is an event movie, and it has an event movie cast. Frequent Lau collaborator Anthony Wong is an immense asset to the film, bringing life to a character not given much by the script. Shu Qi, always growing and improving, manages to garner sympathy for a plot device. Shawn Yue turns up in an under-written role as the son of an off-screen Chinese General, whose motives and allegiances aren’t always clear. Huang Bo does well in the one comic-relief role in the film, even if his Inspector character oscillates between cowardly and upstanding at the script’s convenience.
Of course, plot and characterisation aren’t the main course for aficionados of this genre, and Donnie Yen, as action director, ensures that fight fans eat heartily with Legend Of The Fist. His recent output since his ground-breaking work on Kill Zone is very much ‘a tale of two Donnies’. There is the hard-hitting, grounded and realistic fight staging of Kill Zone and Flashpoint, where Yen shows a keen awareness of mixed martial arts and a commitment to authenticity; the other side of the coin is the over-the-top, outrageous excesses of films like Dragon Tiger Gate - and it is into this category that Legend Of The Fist falls. While Yen incorporates flashes of Jiu-Jitsu and even Wing Chun into his action here, the emphasis is squarely on comic-book style, almost supernatural feats that, in the wrong hands, can alienate an audience. Yen’s creativity with the OTT fight scenes is unmatched in this era, but there remains throughout Legend Of The Fist the niggling suspicion that, had he toned it down, it would have boosted the intensity of the fight scenes, and made us care in ways that the script simply does not. Had he lived, there is no doubt that Bruce Lee would have certainly approved of Yen’s cinematic mixed martial arts trailblazing; it is interesting to ponder what he would made of this updating of his Chen Zhen character.
This is not to take away from the action on show, for it is clearly the main reason to catch Legend Of The Fist. Always exciting, always breathtaking, and never predictable, it will hopefully ensure a decent cinema and DVD run for this movie - and if it prompts new converts to check out some of Yen’s superior back catalogue, then so much the better.
Given the talent involved, it was not unreasonable to expect something of a classic. This is far from it, but its set-pieces still contain more genuine imagination and excitement than is likely to be found anywhere else - especially in the thrilling prologue sequence, which prompts hope from this reviewer that, someday soon, the conscripted Chinese soldiers in World War One get the cinematic tribute they truly deserve. JN
Lau Wai-keung directs this martial arts action drama set in Japanese-occupied 1920s Shanghai.
Seven years after the apparent death of Chen Zhen (portrayed by Bruce Lee in the 1972 film Fist Of Fury, and played here by Donnie Yen), the avenging hero returns.
When he is not courting sultry nightclub singer Kiki (Shu Qi), Zhen takes it upon himself to stop the wave of assassinations sweeping Shanghai, donning a black mask to infiltrate the mob and track down the Japanese hitmen who have been killing off those named in their top-secret Death List.
Film: Legend Of The Fist: The Return Of Chen Zhen Release date: 31st January 2011 Certificate: 18 Running time: 102 mins Director: Andrew Lau Wai-keung Starring: Donnie Yen, Shu Qi, Anthony Wong, Huang Bo, Zhou Yang Genre: Action/Drama/History/Martial Arts Studio: Metrodome Format: DVD & Blu-ray Country: Hong Kong/China
Film: Hero Release date: 21st February 2005 Certificate: 12 Running time: 95 mins Director: Yimou Zhang Starring: Jet Li, Tony Leung Chiu Wai, Maggie Cheung, Ziyi Zhang, Donnie Yen Genre: Action/Adventure/Martial Arts Studio: Miramax Format: DVD Country: Hong Kong/China
Finally, two years after its creation, and as a result of severe petitioning to Miramax Studios from Quentin Tarantino, Zhang Yimou’s Hero obtained its western cinematic and unedited DVD release. Following in the mould of its spiritual predecessor Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon, Hero is a succession of sweeping landscapes, vivid colours and high wire action that sees Jet Li return to his native China to assume the lead role.
Summoned by the King, an orphaned warrior, Nameless, is hurriedly ushered through the gates of the palace so as to confirm a miraculous achievement. Presenting the Prime Minister with three boxes, each containing the weapons of three powerful assassins killed by Nameless, he is permitted into the throne room to drink tea with the King.
The King is a single-minded militant who wages war on the other regions in China, yet his philosophy is to do so not for personal gain but to make the nation strong, unifying them under a single leadership and language. Eager to learn how this mysterious warrior, who held a position of nothing more than a mere local Prefect in his Kingdom of Qin, defeated these assassins, the King invites Nameless to recount his feats. Nameless states he does not possess the abilities to have defeated them collectively yet reveals by separating and confronting each assailant individually he knew he would be victorious.
While it is widely known Broken Sword and Flying Snow are lovers, Nameless reveals that the couple had not spoken to each other in three years because of an illicit encounter Snow had had with the third assassin, Sky. Shown through flashback, Nameless, having infiltrated a calligraphy school in Zhao, reveals to the remaining martial arts masters the remains of Sky’s spear, claiming that Snow's compassion would lead her to avenge his death. This revelation leads to a startling and spiraling sequence of events where Broken Sword, distraught by the actions of his paramour, engages in sexual gratification with his student Moon to earn Snow’s resentment. Snow in a fit of indignation and rage retaliates by killing her former lover. Nameless, in the hall of the King, states this emotional unsettling as a result of the cunning plan he had instigated made the disposal of Snow in combat a formality.
After pondering this lavish tale, the King of Qin announces he has been deceived by the orphaned swordsman, and professes his own entirely new account of what transpired…
With directorial projects that have earned him Golden Bear’s and the elusive Grand Jury Prize, it is unsurprising that Hero exudes the confidence of a director who is comfortable in his craft. Hero is a visual feast as Zhang sculpts beautiful, if not iconic, imagery from the shifting landscapes of Chinese deserts through to the poetic motions of his actors’ choreography. It is impossible not to underestimate the painstaking effort that went into making sure the director achieved perfection in every single scene, as not one inch of the screen is wasted or not deliberately thought out. For the fight scene in the forest, between Maggie Cheung and Ziyi Zhang, Yimou Zhang had a man spend days there purely to inform him of when the leaves began turning yellow so that the director could achieve his vision of the juxtaposed yellow and red colours. Not simply this, but the lake scene involving both Cheung and Tony Leung could only be filmed for two hours a day because this was the only time the waters in the lake would be still enough to create the mirrored effect desired.
Yimou Zhang’s dedication to faultlessness in his artistry is the primary reason Hero is undeniably hypnotic in the sheer scale of its visual palette, but he accompanies this with an interweaving sequence of stories. When Jet Li’s Nameless delineates the fits of jealousy his craftiness sent Broken Sword and Snow into, the film and the characters are awash in red. From wearing red robes through to the red calligraphy house, there is a striking statement being made. It is only, however, when the King begins his hypothesis that the colours start to resonate as being more than just bright garlands when the same characters and school are depicted in a calming blue.
Zhang’s colour coding typifies the emotional thought processes of the characters, where red symbolises passion and rage; blue is representative of sacrifice; green is the exemplification of mercy; while white, as the closing of the thematic colours, can be interpreted as truth, birth or death. While the director has been quoted as claiming the colours bear no direct correlation to any one theme, this must be taken with a pinch of salt for Zhang is undoubtedly aware of the symbolism he himself must attribute to each shade - his declination of a definitive response has created much discussed ambiguity and subsequent publicity.
At its heart, despite the kaleidoscopic opticals, Hero is a martial arts film. Thankfully the high-wire choreography does not overly bend the rules of physics so as to feel nonsensical, but does so just enough to gift his characters an ethereal and benevolently enlightened feel. Despite Jet Li and Donnie Yen being the only schooled martial artists in the primary cast, the remaining protagonists all undertook weeks of training, and the result is there as evidence to the hard work they put in. Not one scene is compromised as a result of an individual’s inability - all the actors are beautifully convincing as they glide through air, bounce off lakes and pull off remarkable feats of dance-like combat.
There are criticisms that Hero, for all its breathtaking visuals, harbours an overriding doctrine of unification, and a philosophy that supports an individual's desire to bring peace to the masses through blood thirsty conflict and totalitarian rule. There are certain parallels that can be made to modern day China leading to a school of thought that Hero is pro-communist propaganda. However, as with the meaning of colours, Yimou Zhang’s true reasoning is open to interpretation by all, and while from a certain standpoint it is difficult to ignore these observations, it is also difficult to ignore the seemingly obvious that his story is based on history, and that certain events cannot be changed. Eastern cinema has a great penchant for the philosophical, endowing the perceived antagonists with moral codes, blurring the lines between 'good' and 'bad'. Yet the reasoning in this instance may be as simple as the director choosing to implement his poetic license, but then in Hero, nothing is ever quite as it first seems to be.
While some may have an unwillingness to swallow the simple premise as a means for justifying ninety minutes worth of sword-clanging, finding it a tedious exercise in high-wire showboating, it is impossible to deny the sheer beauty which resonates throughout this sumptuously narcotic feast.
Whether it be through majestic landscapes, the vibrancy and range of striking colours on show, or the graceful movements of some of China’s finest stars, Yimou Zhang champions a case for style when done with substance. BL
Film: Iron Monkey Release date: 1st March 2004 Certificate: 12 Running time: 86 mins Director: Yuen Woo-ping Starring: Rongguang Yu, Donnie Yen, Jean Wang, Yen Shi-Kwan, James Wong Genre: Action/Comedy/Crime/Martial Arts Studio: E1 Format: DVD Country: Hong Kong
Tales of folk heroes and legends saturate the fabric of Chinese history and culture. Re-released and discovered by a wider audience after Yuen Woo-ping’s astonishing success choreographing Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon, Iron Monkey is a notable addition to the extensive list of historical legends committed to film. Directed by The Matrix choreographer and action master, and featuring Hong Kong and China’s most vaunted action star of the moment, Donnie Yen, Iron Monkey proves to be a short but well-crafted story.
Rong Kwong plays Dr. Yang, a good man who tends to the needs of the ill and hungry in his community for free but charges the well-off. Seeing refugees and the poorest people of the town trodden on by rich and corrupt Governor Cheng (Wong), Dr. Yang transforms himself at night into Iron Monkey to steal Cheng’s ill-gained wealth and fight for good.
Wong Kei Ying (Donnie Yen) arrives in town with his young son Wong Fei Hung (Tsang Sze-Man). Kei-Ying is a prominent master of the Hung-Gar style. Initially believed to be the title hero by Cheng, Kei-Ying fights to prove he is not the wanted outlaw, and goes after Iron Monkey himself to save his son being held as insurance by Cheng. Eventually he teams with Iron Monkey after realising they have similar principles. They battle against not only the corrupt town officials, but also Imperial minister Hin Hung – a traitor to his own Shaolin Temple, and a man with his own mission to stop the notorious and troublesome Iron Monkey…
Of course, it’s a Robin-Hood variation, yet this time we’ve two Robins willing to stand up and fight corruption and redistribute the wealth to the community’s neediest souls. Even though the title of the film boasts one hero, this is essentially a buddy movie, two righteous warriors who are willing to fight the evil disease denigrating their town.
Female support is solid from Jean Wang who plays Dr. Yang’s clinic assistant Orchid with a gentle air and subtlety. But more notable is the son of Kei-Ying, played by young actress Tsang Sze-Man. It’s an interesting cross-gender casting for the role of one of China’s most celebrated legends in Wong Fei-Hung. Sze-Man brings gravitas and subtle expression of emotion to the part that perhaps couldn’t be entrusted to a teenage boy.
Splashes of humour come from Dr. Yang’s cheeky teasing of the governor’s guards while tending the injuries his alter-ego has inflicted, although Rong Kwong is more at home taking the responsibility for the emotional core of the movie. His strength and kindness shine through when tending his patients and fighting for justice with honour against guards and officials.
Donnie Yen’s acting, especially in the aftermath of his son’s kidnap, proves to be lacklustre. His sadness just doesn’t convey or convince, and it’s noticeable he has worked on this aspect of his screen repertoire in recent years. The more emotionally-loaded scenes featuring Yen do stick and slow down the brisk pace built up from Woo-ping’s action segments.
It’s a very short film in which to explore corruption, the awful treatment of displaced refugees, and the relationships between Dr. Yang and Orchid, as well as Kei-Ying and his son. It leaves the viewer feeling short-changed about these points, and if it is vying for a more gentle exploration then more comedy and light-heartedness would’ve evened the tone.
Woo-ping offers us some quite impressive slices of wire-work - seeing Iron Monkey jump up and through a hole in the roof to land deftly on the tiles being one highlight. We’re also treated to Yen’s undeniable speed and agility when it comes to his hand-work. His quick moves solidly display practiced form, and help distract from the lack of depth in his acting.
The final reel sees our heroes go up against the traitorous Shaolin monk Hin Hung. Stilted speech about righteousness aside; it’s a riotous two-on-one affair which sees the monk crash through a brick wall and our heroes thrown into wooden struts. They indulge in pole-top balancing kung-fu, too, with the aid of wire-pulls. Woo-ping knows how to deliver an exceptional closing fight scene, and the flaming stick scene is pulsating. In lesser hands it may have appeared overblown, but Woo-ping once again shows that he is a master of standard physical interplay as well as wire-work choreography – even if belief is shattered by a flaming pole to the monk’s head (clearly a rubber dummy!).
Iron Monkey may not be amongst the best of Yuen Woo-ping’s enviable filmography, nor of the ever-growing list of historical hero endeavours, but it is a short and fun exponent of the historical hero genre. JM
Film: Seven Swords Release date: 22nd January 2007 Certificate: 15 Running time: 135 mins Director: Tsui Hark Starring: Donnie Yen, Leon Lai, Charlie Yeung, Liwu Dai, Liu Chia-Liang Genre: Action/Drama/Martial Arts Studio: Contender Format: DVD Country: South Korea/Hong Kong/China
Given Tsui Hark’s lengthy CV, expectations are understandably high for any of his films, and Seven Swords is no exception. An explosion of unlikely influences, a celebration of genre, a clash of cultures, it should be a multifaceted film wrapped up in layers of meaning. But whether Hark satisfies the challenge that he has set himself remains debatable. In true Oriental blockbuster style, Asia’s astounding natural beauty is showcased in mountainous snow scenes that awe and amaze. Like a local tradesman in a tourist hotspot, little effort is made to conceal the stitches that tailor this opening to impress naïve Western viewers, but visual magnificence redeems that.
Obligatory sweeping camera angles out of the way, Hark’s priorities are instantly revealed. As if to cover up his initial indulgent imagery, he guiltily rushes straight into the plot.
Seven Swords recounts the age-old story of gentle village folk struggling against the hedonistic powers that be. In this case, ruler Wind Fire has imposed a ban on martial arts, with a punishment of death for those who defy him: or, it predictably turns out, for those that simply don’t fulfil his glamorous urban ideal. With a weighty cash prize on each of their heads, the people of imaginatively named Martial Village are driven to moral and righteous action...
The rather stilted plot is presented to viewers in a brief flashback that proves more dedicated to special effects, stunning cinematography and slick editing than basic storytelling. It even crams in the stereotypical martial arts fight to fulfil those Eastern cravings of Western newcomers to the genre. Although flimsy, this crude approach does maintain value through its refreshingly direct approach. Audiences at least know exactly what is driving the dreary journey ahead. For added comfort and accessibility, English names and unfussy script replace traditional Mandarin names and audiences are spared dialogue that resembles a string of riddles more than a film.
In its consistently disjointed fashion Seven Swords sees West destructively crash into East by way of the bad guys. Dusty rags of the poor protagonists collide with funky and futuristic hairstyles, war paint, weapons and tattoos. With the addition of ‘fire-stars’ and a dodgy attempt at an over-budget 33MM ‘handheld tremor’, a misplaced parallel to Star Wars is completed by contrived Yoda-esque words of wisdom that could have been written by an imaginative 12-year-old - an American twelve year-old. Momentarily stepping well and truly into the script of a teen comedy, it doesn’t come much more Americanised than “such a cute chick in this shabby village.” There are certainly plenty of cringe worthy moments to entertain: regrettably, they wear a little thin after an hour or so and become tiresome after two. Ruthlessly combined with bland plot and a repetitive overall structure, most viewers are likely to lose interest long before the film’s conclusion.
A single point of interest may lie in the bizarre combination of genres. Seven Swords is not simply an overdone martial arts film. It is a fantasy, a period piece, science fiction and, most prevalently, a Western. In terms of genre as well as culture, all of John Ford’s criteria are met. From the very first stand-off, the enemies are even physically positioned ala cowboy caravan meets Indian tribe. To reveal that the last shot involves heroes on horseback gives nothing away. Yet Hark courageously flashes shiny space swords, silken pantaloons and a few mentions of a Dynasty, as if to complicate genre where script and story fall short.
So extreme is this massive broth of genre, culture, frankly awful style and awesome imagery, it remains a mystery as to whether Seven Swords is one big parody or one big accident. Is there some sort of juxtaposition-based joke that the viewer is meant to be in on, or was the budget bigger than Hark could handle? With titles like the Once Upon A Time In China series under his belt, Hark should be the last person to be overwhelmed by sky high funding, yet this effort comes across as utterly amateurish. Nothing flows and nothing is seamless. Cumbersome blocks of film with a single rudimentary purpose stack upon each other in a Great Wall of Clichés. Subtext and meaning are nonentities. Without a doubt, visual quality is impressive, but this makes the lumbering construction of the overall effort all the more frustrating.
Seven Swords is an admirably accessible beginner’s guide to Eastern cinema, but for most, it has opened the doors far too wide and the substance has fallen out. Perhaps original and bold for fearless genre experimentation, and certainly striking for its imagery, it offers nothing to challenge the viewer or even engage them. Placing audiences in an ambiguous position, it makes for uncomfortable viewing - is Hark sharing a story with them, or just patronising them? In either case, more fool him: boredom is inevitable in this painful and over budgeted mess. RS
Film: Bodyguards And Assassins Running time: 139 mins Director: Teddy Chan Starring: Donnie Yen, Leon Lai, Xueqi Wang, Tony Leung Ka Fai, Nicholas Tse Genre: Action/Martial Arts/Drama Country: China/Hong Kong
This film was screened in association with Asia House London at the Apollo Cinema, Piccadilly Circus on Thursday, 11th November 2010. The screening included a special introduction by Peter B Sun, grandson of Chinese revolutionary Sun Yat Sen.
When introducing Bodyguards And Assassins – a film based around the real life actions of his grandfather, Peter Sun was asked to comment on the historical accuracy of the film. A laugh went around the auditorium, perhaps filled with veterans of previous Donnie Yen films. Peter Sun laughed, too. Clearly, in bringing the film to the big screen, some embellishments had to be made. Bad news perhaps for scholars of Chinese political history, but great news for fans of martial arts cinema.
Though loosely drawn from the true story of Chinese political hero Sun Yat Sen, or Dr Sun, Bodyguards And Assassins keeps to the remit of its title, focusing not on the real life political figure, but on those who battle around him, and, in so doing, creates a captivating martial arts folktale.
In 1905, word reaches British controlled Hong Kong that renowned revolutionary Dr Sun is set to visit the country in order to plan the uprisings that will overthrow the corrupt ruling Qing Dynasty. The Qing Empress dispatches a group of deadly assassins, led by martial arts master Yan Xiaoguo, to kill Dr Sun before he can complete his mission. Dr Sun’s man in Hong Kong Chen Shaobai enlists the help of newspaper owner Li Yutang, whose overt support of the cause secures the aid of an unlikely team of bodyguards to protect Dr Sun when the day of his vital mission arrives…
The film echoes Seven Samurai in its formation of the unlikely band of warrior eccentrics, each with his or her own reason for protecting Dr Sun. In this case, a servant, a vagrant, a nameless giant, a gambler and a circus performer answer the call. This makes the film very much an ensemble piece with no heavy focus on any one single character. Even Donnie Yen’s gambler police officer goes about his business as a smoothly functioning part of the greater whole.
As the scene is painstakingly set in the opening thirty minutes, one could be forgiven for wondering if the film’s political machinations might have created a slow-burning thriller, but soon after, battle is joined in some style, and a poignant, elegant martial arts epic takes shape. Much of this poignancy is drawn from the film’s setting. A time of great change in China was not only seeing political evolution, but the rise of a new society no longer wedded to its ancient traditions. There is a strong sense that bodyguard and assassin alike are the last remnants of a way of life that is rendered obsolete by the new world of empires, steam and rifles. But, pleasingly, this does not mean the great martial artists are going without a fight.
Donnie Yen strengthens his claim to being the finest modern exponent of the craft. His unarmed work characterised by explosive speed and an elegance of movement that makes one pity those who stand against him. Reborn vagrant Liu Yubai played by Leon Lai, cleaned up and dressed in white gives a demonstration of Chinese Iron Fan that offers the strongest nostalgic echoes of the Chinese warrior past. NBA basketball star Wang Fuming delivers a comically imposing performance as exiled Buddhist monk Menke Bateer, which includes slam-dunking a melon into the head of a man on the third floor of a building. Whilst effectively choreographed, the fighting is not overly stylised. The sense that these are real human beings not superheroes is enhanced by some very effective, almost naturalistic wound makeup, and the use of the painful, gory, energy sapping chain whips employed by the assassins to drag the bodyguards down under weight of numbers. In this film, martial arts hurt.
Two acting performances stand out beside the martial artists. Wang Xueqi’s portrayal of Li Yutang, a businessman who gives everything: money, reputation and even his only son to the revolution. His performance deservedly won him the Best Actor award at the Fourth Asian Film Awards. Heartbreakingly loyal rickshaw servant A’si is played to great effect by Nicholas Tse, who won the Best Supporting Actor award at the same ceremony.
Amid the running battles, elegant Wushu demonstrations and desperate rickshaw chase sequences, the white helmeted figure of Dr Sun moves calmly to his places of meeting, showing no outward sign of the bloody sacrifice being made to allow him to succeed. The sheer scale of the brutality arrayed against Dr Sun and his defenders has one willing them to succeed in a mission that begins to take on the unmistakeable feeling of a one way ticket, as each defender is called upon to make still greater sacrifice.
As his introduction drew to an end, Peter Sun was asked if the film answered the question of “Who was Sun Yat Sen?”
“He was a person who worked so hard to build up China,” he began. “One hundred years after his death, you see his work. He never grew rich or took from the country. For him, the building of China was the most important thing. How many politicians can say that?”
In saying this, Peter Sun effectively conceded that Bodyguards And Assassins is not really a film about his grandfather. Dr Sun appears in the film only briefly. But through the skilled interweaving of political thriller and Chinese hero myth, the film succeeds in conveying his importance, in the willingness of ordinary and extra-ordinary people alike to sacrifice everything for his success. In that, Bodyguards And Assassins is not just a hugely watchable martial arts experience, but a surprisingly effective vehicle for a political subtext that echoes in China to this day. NB
