Boycott Disney’s Mulan, Watch the Shaw Brothers’ Lady General Hua Mulan Instead

Please do not spend money to watch Disney’s Mulan. It is not me whose asking. It is the brave young Hong Kong democracy activists, whose very lives are now threatened by Beijing’s draconian “National Security” Law. First star Crystal Liu publicly sided with the abusive HK police and against the activists defending the principles of “One Country Two Systems.” Then co-star Donnie Yen celebrated the imposition of the harsh law now being widely used to crack-down on Hong Kongers who advocate the ideals of a liberal civil society. That is unacceptable and so is Disney’s deafening silence regarding their comments, so their Mulan is unacceptable. However, if you want to revisit the story of Mulan in a film you (most likely) haven’t seen, try Yueh Feng’s Shaw Brothers-produced Lady General Hua Mulan (which like many Shaw Bros. films is easily findable online, if you look).

The Shaw Brothers’ Mulan is not just another retelling of Mulan’s story. It combines the folktale with traditional Mandarin-language Huangmei opera, which was growing in HK popularity at the time, due to a mid-1960s surge of immigration from the Mainland region. It is all singing, all the time, because when the principles and secondary leads are not communicating through song, the unseen chorus handles exposition and chronicles the march of time.

Hua Mulan is indeed Hua Mulan, so she takes her ailing, aged father’s place when her family receives their draft notice. In fact, she is keen to serve, because she has trained for years with the spear. Her skills are so sharp, she wins the new recruits’ tournament, bringing her to the attention of General Li. They will serve together for years, fighting to beat back the Mongol invasion, but only her cousin Hua Ming knows her true gender and helps cover for her. Apparently, the pre-Tang Imperial Army admirably respected the personal space of enlisted grunts and junior officers. Of course, Hua could fight, so presumably allowances could be made.

Hua Mulan is a perfect subject for the Shaw Bros. studio, because her heroic story was compatible for the audiences of both their budding operatic films and their established martial arts historicals. Wisely, they cast Huangmei star Ivy Ling Po, who dubbed her own arias. She has the pipes and the action chops. Yet, she also manages to be both boyish and weirdly saucy and coquettish at times. As a result, we can suspend disbelief, even though she never remotely looks like a man, while buying into her chemistry with Chin Han’s handsome Gen. Li.

Surprisingly, the action sequences are less consistent. The tournament sparring and Hua’s proving-herself bout with her father are nicely choreographed, but the grand battle scene is a bit muddled. Nevertheless, the long marching armies and colorful, fur-trimmed costumes give the film a suitably epic vibe.

Right now, Hong Kongers are afraid to exercise the rights of free speech, free press, and free assembly that we take for granted. Beijing’s puppet government has rounded up known critics, forcing young leaders like Nathan Law to seek sanctuary abroad. After her arrest, his colleague Agnes Chow has been hailed as “Hong Kong’s real Mulan.” Even identifying with Hong Kong’s local culture (demonized “localism”) is dangerous under the current repressive climate.

Shatter: Hammer’s Second Shaw Brothers Co-Production

This would be Peter Cushing’s final feature film for Hammer, but he did not reprise any of his famous gothic characters. He only shot for four days, but they were all on-location in Hong Kong, so at least he got an exotic trip out of it. Stuart Whitman played the title character but the real stars are the gritty 1970s-era HK locations seen throughout Michael Carreras’s Shatter (a.k.a. Call Him Mr. Shatter), Hammer Film’s second not-so great co-production with the Shaw Brothers, which releases today on BluRay.

Shatter is a hitman who usually contracts out his services to the Western intelligence agencies. Unfortunately, the Hong Kong drug syndicate tricked him into executing the particularly nasty and destabilizing assassination of an African dictator. When Shatter complains to his regular HK contact, he finds he is now persona non grata. Even worse, Hans Leber, the money man for the contracting cartel, refuses to pay his fee.

Paul Rattwood, the local British station chief gives Shatter one day to leave town, but he is not going anywhere until he gets his money and some payback. Fortunately, he recruits a talented martial arts expert, Tai Pah, who can help keep him alive. However, Shatter is even more interested in Tai Pah’s sister Mai-Mee, a strictly professional masseuse working in a dodgy massage parlor.

Hammer’s first Shaw Brothers co-pro was the unfairly under-rated Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires, in which Cushing returned to the iconic role of Van Helsing. However, Shatter was sort of an additional throw-in from the start. It probably did not help that the original director, Monte Hellman, was fired early during the production, with Hammer president Carreras taking over.

Nevertheless, Lung Ti has several cool fight scenes as Tai Pah and his fellow Shaw Brothers regular Lily Li is warmly charismatic as Mai-Mee. The real problem is Stuart Whitman, who was badly miscast as the steely Shatter. Reportedly, he was physically ill during production—and he looks it. Of course, Cushing does his thing as Rattwood, but Anton Diffring (whose spotty previous Hammer tenure included their unsold 1958 pilot, Tales of Frankenstein) basically phones it in as Leber.

Chang Cheh at the Quad: Vengeance

Who is more dangerous to cross, a Guoju Opera star or a Kabuki actor? Judging from the cinematic evidence, neither is a high percentage play. Kon Ichikawa’s Revenge of a Kabuki Actor is like steak tartar, cold, elegant, and rich, whereas Chang Cheh’s early Republican revenge drama is like a seared but still bloody T-bone, yet they are both nourishing and satisfying. In this case, David Chiang is rather peeved over the gruesome murder of his older brother in Chang’s Vengeance, which screens as part of the Quad’s current retrospective, Vengeance is His: Chang Cheh’s Martial Lore, co-presented by the New York Asian Film Festival.

Frustrated by his wife’s ill-concealed dalliance with local martial arts power broker Feng Kaishan, Guan Yulou crashes his school, humiliating the master in front of his students. Feng maybe had it coming, but he still rounds up fifty or sixty students and gangsters to ambush Guan in his favorite tea-house. They cut him to shreds, but Guan still manages to take out two dozen or so attackers, before getting his eyes gauged out, which gets us about fifteen minutes into the film.

Soon thereafter, Guan Xiaolu shows up, looking to avenge his brother, because that’s the name of the film. First, he pays a call on his sister-in-law Hua Zhengfen to express his slight disappointment in her behavior. Then he pops by to visit her estranged sister, Hua Zhengfang, an old flame, who is definitely down with Team Guan. With the help of her information and candlelit suppers, the younger Guan will track down the mobbed-up Feng and his co-conspirators in the local government.

This film means business, just like Guan Xiaolu. There is a heck of a lot of that infamous bright crimson Shaw Brothers stage-blood getting splashed around here. It is definitely a martial arts movie, but the action falls into two extremes: gritty back-alley knife fighting and the refined acrobatic stage performances of Guan Yulou—the ratio is about one hundred to one, in favor of the former. However, Chang rather stylishly intersperses flashbacks to Yulou’s performances amid the carnage of Xiaolu’s throw-downs. In fact, it is sufficiently artistic to make Vengeance a worthy double-feature pairing with Ichikawa’s Kabuki Actor.

Frankly, Vengeance is right up there with Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires as one of Chiang’s coolest movies. He is terrific as the driven, no-screwing-around Guan Xiaolu. Ku Feng chews the scenery with sinister élan while getting his butt kicked sideways as the lecherous Feng. Ti Lung also shows some tremendous physicality as the short-lived Guan brother, whereas Alice Au Yin-ching makes quite the deliciously catty femme fatale as Zhengfen.

There is no bait-and-switch or tiresome attempts at subtlety here. It is all payback, all the time, yet it happens to be one of the more visually stylish films of the Chang retrospective. What more can you ask for? Very highly recommended, Vengeance screens tomorrow (5/26) and Monday (5/28), as part of Chang Cheh’s Martial Lore at the Quad.

Chang Cheh at the Quad: The Water Margin

Like Journey to the West, it is not practical to adapt all of Shi Nai’an’s classic 14^th Century novel in one shot. Filmmakers usually just cherry-pick certain chapters. Chang Cheh and co-screenwriter Ni Kuang chose chapters 64-68, out of an even 100. It was a logical decision, because there is a big Kung Fu battle at the end of Cheh’s Shaw Brothers production, The Water Margin which screens as part of the Quad’s current retrospective, Vengeance is His: Chang Cheh’s Martial Lore, co-presented by the New York Asian Film Festival.

At this point, most of the colorful heroes of Liangshan Marsh have already assembled, Avengers-style. The only ones left to join are Lu Junyi and his ward-protégé, Yan Qing—sort of like Batman and Robin, to mix the superhero metaphor. Lu is a minor lord with unimpeachable integrity and killer Kung Fu skills, but he wants no truck with outlaws. Unfortunately, Lu still winds up arrested by the local military governor, for allowing Liangshan emissaries free passage after they unsuccessfully try to recruit him. Instead, the militia does the Liangshans’ recruiting for them.

A good portion of Water Margin is devoted to Yan Qing efforts to save his master, teaming up with various Liangshan heroes. Eventually, they will face the forces of Shi Wengong, a warlord loyal to the oppressive government. It will be a real grudge match, because Shi set off the entire narrative arc, by killing the officially recognized leader of the Liangshan heroes. Of course, Lu will face off against him, but four of Shi’s best students will also square-off solo against four top heroes, including Lady “Green Snake” Hu.

Even at its time and even more so in retrospect, Water Margin just overflows with well-known HK actors (and a few from Japan), like a Shaw Brothers Expendables. It is really impossible to keep everyone straight after only one viewing, even though Chang’s super-scripts helpfully identify each character and actor playing him during their initial entrance, even well into the third act.

It hardly matters, because Water Margin is such high-spirited fun. The film starts with a nearly ten-minute drunken bacchanal back at Liangshan Marsh, which really sets the tone for the rest of the film. The groovy Hammond organ-sounding soundtrack also keeps the film bopping along at a healthy trot.

As Yan Qing, David Chiang’s laidback presence and on-screen athleticism wear well over the course of film and nicely compliment the righteous Lu. Tetsuro Tamba (best known as Tiger Tanaka in You Only Live Twice) is terrifically steely and commanding as the strictly-business Lu. Half a dozen Shaw regulars make the most of their moments as heroes, but Lily Ho Lili definitely stands out as Lady Hu, for obvious reasons (especially since this is a Chang film).

Water Margin is definitely a Shaw Brothers movie. It isn’t afraid of getting its hands during in a throw-down. Yet, it also can be considered a forerunner to big budget, epic-scale martial arts spectacles, like Crouching Tiger and Red Cliff. It is all kinds of rousing (even though the narrative is largely structured around a series of Liangshan foul-ups). Highly recommended for martial arts fans, Water Margin screens this Saturday night (5/26), as part of Chang Cheh’s Martial Lore at the Quad.

Chang Cheh at the Quad: Heroes Two

Shaolin brotherhood means never having to say sorry for accidentally serving up a comrade to the Manchurian oppressors (but it would still be a nice gesture). At first, Fang Sai-yuk and Hung Si-kuan will fight each other, but they are destined to fight shoulder-to-shoulder in Heroes Two, Chang Cheh’s Shaw Brothers-produced-red-meat-martial-arts-fastball-over-the-plate, which screens as part of the Quad’s upcoming retrospective, Vengeance is His: Chang Cheh’s Martial Lore, co-presented by the New York Asian Film Festival.

Dastardly Gen. Che Kang has razed the Shaolin temple and massacred the Ming loyalists inside, but Hung managed to slip out to fight another day. Unfortunately, Che’s thugs convince the Shaolin trained Fang his brother is actually a violent criminal, using all the battered henchmen he leaves in his wake as evidence. Alas, Fang (a popular wuxia hero since the Qing era) has more enthusiasm than intuition, so he realizes his mistake at the precise moment it is too late.

Wracked with guilt, Fang connects with the last of the local Shaolin remnant. Learning Che is holding Hung in his dungeon (which would have been our first guess anyway), Fang tries a frontal assault, but barely survives the power of the general’s iron-mojo-fist. Instead, he falls back on plan B: tunneling like Bronson in The Great Escape.

Apparently, Chang needed the help of science fiction novelist Ni Kuang to wrestle this super complex screenplay into submission. Okay, so it is a pretty straight forward string of fight sequences, but at least they sketch out a moderately interesting assortment of supporting characters. Bruce Tong Yim-chaan gives the film archetypal depth as Nien Shui-ching, the son out to avenge his father murdered at the temple. Tong convincingly portrays him as a disciple with above-average but not super-human Kung Fu chops. Fong Sam also gives the film some verve as 3^rd Sister, the widowed restaurant proprietress affiliated with Shaolin and the Ming underground.

Of course, this film is all about fighting, but happily Fu Sheng (in his breakout role) and Chen Kuan-tai were definitely up to the physical demands. Throughout the film, they are constantly fighting, running, or getting the snot kicked out of them. They have the skills and the right presence for each hero (youthful exuberance or enlightened brooding, respectively).

In many ways, Heroes Two matches the stereotypical image of Kung Fu movies many non-fans have in their heads, but that is also the source of its unfussy, eager-to-entertain charm. You want tiger claw and stork technique, well, Chang and action directors Tony Kai and Liu Chia-liang have you covered. Recommended as old school escapist fun, Heroes Two screens this Friday (5/25) and the following Tuesday (5/29), as part of Chang Cheh’s Martial Lore at the Quad.

Chang Cheh at the Quad: House of Traps

In 1982, the Shaw Brothers released two films based on the classic Chinese novel, The Seven Heroes and the Five Gallants. Cat vs. Rat starred Kara Hui, whereas Chang Cheh’s version had no women roles whatsoever. It’s still fun anyway. Chang’s House of Traps, fondly remembered as the last time he assembled his so-called Venom Mob (from The Five Deadly Venoms), screens as part of the Quad’s upcoming retrospective, Vengeance is His: Chang Cheh’s Martial Lore, co-presented by the New York Asian Film Festival.

It is Kung Fu versus booby-traps and a rather nasty thief. Yan Chunmin is the honest scholar crime-busting judge Bao Zheng has appointed Inspector General of Xiangyang, the seat of rebellious Prince Zhao Jue’s power. The line between hero and thief (or grifter) is rather porous throughout the film, as a con man becomes the scholar’s protector and two thieves ostensibly aligned with the Prince will eventually face-off against each in the climatic battle.

Along the way, hidden allies will reveal themselves and the four surviving Gallant “Rats” will rally to the loyalist cause after one of their brothers is killed in the Prince’s titular “House of Traps.” It is there that the Prince stores several significant stolen works of art as well as the dishonor roll of all who have sworn allegiance to his uprising—sort of an early version of the NOC List.

Basically, House of T is Kung Fu with a touch of Rube Goldberg and some costumes worthy of Evel Knievel or Liberace (but seriously, what’s with those knit bonnets?). It seems like a simple story, but Chang and co-screenwriter Ni Kuang manage to complicate the heck out of it. There is an unwieldly large cast of name characters, who are constantly coming and going, like characters in a screwball farce. However, Philip Kwok and Lu Feng certainly show off the martial arts chops the Venom Gang were famous for.

There are plenty of fan-pleasing fight sequences, plus a few rather striking visuals. However, what really sets the film apart is the goriness of the deaths inside the Prince’s house of pain. Stuff happens there that is worthy of the Saw and Final Departure franchises, but Chang manages to keep the overall tone brisk and upbeat. Sure, it is goofy and bloody, but it is still good clean fun. Recommended for fans of the Shaws and the Venoms, House of Traps screens this Thursday (5/24), as part of Chang Cheh’s Martial Lore at the Quad.

Chang Cheh at the Quad: The Five Deadly Venoms

How would you like to be rescued by a toad or a lizard (possibly a gecko, depending on the translation of the subtitles)? Fortunately, there are no distressed damsels in this Shaw Brothers classic. Instead, the Venom martial arts clan will take care of some internal business. The Master has died, but he has sent his last student out to find out whether his brothers have been naughty or nice in Chang Cheh’s legendary The Five Deadly Venoms, which screens during the Quad’s upcoming retrospective, Vengeance is His: Chang Cheh’s Martial Lore, co-presented by the New York Asian Film Festival.

The old master trained five disciples, each in a different venom style. The Centipede attacks so quickly, it is like getting pummeled by hundreds of fists. Snakes strikes accurately and lethally at his victim’s weakest point. Toad is nearly invincible to fist or blade, but if his secret Achilles heel is pierced, he loses all his mojo. Lizard is so speedy, he walks up walls like Spiderman. Scorpion is known for his deadly kicks, which sounds conventional, but he is the sneakiest snake in the grass of them all.

The master sent them back out into the world, at which point they adopted new names and mostly started to reflect discredit on the clan through their crimes. With his dying breath, he instructs Yang Tieh to track down his five brothers, ascertain who has strayed from the righteous path and punish the wicked. Yang was trained in all five venoms, but his master died before his training was completed. He will not be able to defeat any of his seniors alone, but if he teams up with one of them, they will be able to perfectly compliment each other.

That will most likely be either Toad or Lizard (who is masquerading as a mildly corrupt constable). They are more rogues than villains. Like the other mystery venoms, they are searching for the treasure purloined by Yun, the Master’s elderly former clan brother. In fact, Toad is so public-spirited, he assists his brother Lizard apprehending a murder, whom they (rightly) suspect to be Centipede, but that calls unfortunate attention to Toad and his conspicuous toad-like invulnerability. Most of the venoms are pretty easy to guess, but Yang hides in plain sight, posing as a goofball drifter, which he mostly is.

Five Venoms is beloved as much for its eccentricity as it is for its martial arts spectacle. Frankly, some of the moves are downright loopy, but it is tough to beat the energy. Even by late 1970s Shaw Brothers standards, this is not exactly a lush production, but it is arguably the original archetype for a host of imitating-homage-paying followers, including Tarantino’s white-washed, anglicized Lady Snowblood rip-off, Kill Bill.

Kuo Chui and Lo Mang are both terrific as Lizard and Toad, respectively. Frankly, the film is at its rollicking best when it functions as their buddy movie. Alas, they are not together for long, but they make a dynamite team during that time. Chiang Sheng is also weirdly effective as Yang, who seems like a total sad sack throughout the first two acts, yet steps up nicely for the big climatic showdowns. Plus, Wei Pei looks appropriately slimy, but nicely handles the evolution of Snake.

So, pick your poison. There have been many more artistically refined martial arts films since 5DV, but this is the original article. In retrospect, we can even view it as a forerunner to scores of films, even including The Usual Suspects. It still delivers the goods, with all kinds of cynical good humor. Very highly recommended for martial arts fans, The Five Deadly Venoms screens this Wednesday (5/23) and Friday (5/25), as part of Chang Cheh’s Martial Lore at the Quad.

Old School Kung Fu ’17: Intimate Confessions of a Chinese Courtesan

It’s time for 50 shades of the Shaw Brothers. It might seem pretty tame to us now, but in its day, this 1972 film was billed as the first Shaw sex movie. When a resilient peasant girl is abducted and sold into a brothel, she quickly becomes the star attraction. Bare breasts, floggings, and lesbian make-out sessions soon follow. She can fight too, but so can her mistress in Chor Yuen’s Intimate Confessions of a Chinese Courtesan, which screens during this year’s Old School Kung Fu Fest at the Metrograph.

Maybe you could argue Madam Madame Chun Yi is so adept at catering to her pervy old clients, because she shares their tastes. That is particularly true of her latest acquisition, Ai Nu, but the trafficked woman is having none of it. She even tries to commit suicide, but she is saved by “the Mute,” a former bandit now forced by injuries to toil as a lowly servant. When he is killed during their escape attempt, she swears to avenge him (and get some payback for herself), but in the meantime, she pretends to make nice with Madame Chun.

In fact, she up-manages Chun so well, the Madam will even run interference for her when she starts killing her creepy regulars. Of course, none of that sits well with Chun’s partner, who has long carried a torch for her—obviously to no avail. The honest new sheriff in town also feels duty bound to prevent murders, but he does not yet understand the full context of her vendetta.

Even without the steaminess, Intimate Confessions is a bit of a mind blower. Frankly, it is about as risqué as Ingrid Pitt’s lesbian-themed Hammer vampire films from the same period, but Hong Kong was a much different market in 1972 than America or the UK. This is truly feminism at its most lurid: men are dogs, who deserve to die—and to prove the point, here’s some skin to ogle. Plus, it has to be conceded: the big climatic fight sequence is a barn-burner.

Regular Shaw Brothers leading lady Lily Ho took her career to the next level portraying Ai Nu a stone-cold force to be reckoned with. However, Betty Pei Ti steals the show outright as the flamboyantly villainous and recklessly lusty Madame Chun. She clearly evokes a sense of classical tragedy, but she could also hold her own against Sybil Danning’s prison wardens.

Intimate Confessions definitely stands apart in the Shaw Brothers filmography, but the wuxia production elements are all first-class. Fu Liang Chou’s score also has some funky seasonings that might be anachronistic, but work well in context. Its excesses are rather stylistically distinctive as well as indulgent. Highly recommended for all Shaw Brothers fans, Intimate Confessions of a Chinese Courtesan screens this Saturday (8/19), as part of Old School Kung Fu 2017 at the Metrograph.

Old School Kung Fu ’17: My Young Auntie

Martial arts talent definitely runs in this family. Cheng Tai-nun married into it, but she has as much chops as anyone. She is also surprisingly young and pretty, but she is the still the elder in Lau Kar-leung’s My Young Auntie, which screens during this year’s Old School Kung Fu Fest at the Metrograph.

To prevent his wastrel criminal brother Yu Yung-sheng from inheriting his estate, a childless landowner marries Cheng, a trusted servant and martial arts champion, to insure his nephew Yu Ching-chuen becomes his rightfully beneficiary. Immediately after his death, she quickly brings him the will and deeds for safe keeping. Of course, the genial, older middle-aged Yu is not expecting an auntie like her, so miscommunication and misunderstandings inevitably ensue. It is even more so the case with Yu’s son Charlie, a westernized college student.

He definitely thinks she is hot, but hopelessly square in her traditional ways, so he and his jerky pals try to teach her a lesson in Hong Kong hipness. Unfortunately, while they having their fun, Yung-sheng’s colorful cast of henchmen steal the estate documents. Naturally, that means Cheng and Charlie will have to take them back, but they might need an assist from his father (her nephew) and his skilled brothers.

Auntie is definitely a comedy with the emphasis on physicality. Frankly, some of the jokes will strike contemporary viewers as rather boorish. However, there is no denying Kara Hui’s chops and presence as the titular Auntie. Trained as a professional dancer, she was clearly blessed with tremendous grace and flexibility. You can definitely see how her experience with one sort of choreography laid her in good stead for another.

There is a lot of “Tiger Claw” kind of Kung Fu going on that looks absolutely insane, but Lau totally sells it as director, fight choreographer, and co-star, playing Old Nephew Yu. In fact, he takes over the big climatic match-up with Yu Yung-sheng, which is likely to produce mixed emotions in fans. As much as we want to see Kara Hui settle accounts, there is something satisfying about watching the grey-haired veteran throw down with authority.

Within the Shaw Brothers filmography, Auntie is also notable for addressing issues of evolving gender roles and the culture clash between modernized and westernized Hong Kongers and traditional country residents. It has all kinds of energy but the gags tend towards the shticky side of the spectrum (Gordon Liu wearing a blond Musketeer wig? Yes, it’s in there). My Young Auntie is definitely recommended for Kara Hui and Shaw Brothers fans, but King Hu’s Shaw-produced Come Drink with Me is even more entertaining and visually impressive. For your Shaw Brothers fix, My Young Auntie screens this Saturday (8/19) and Come Drink with Me screens Sunday (8/20), as part of Old School Kung Fu 2017 at the Metrograph.

Simian Verite: The Mighty Peking Man

It is hard to believe Dino De Laurentiis’s 1976 King Kong remake was such a huge hit in its day, but apparently it was. Identifying an opportunity, the legendary Runme Shaw rushed a Mandarin language “riff” into production, sacrificing time-consuming luxuries such as logic and good sense. The result is a ludicrously politically incorrect throwback to Toho’s mid-1960s kaiju-style King Kong movies, but with a Mandarin speaking blonde jungle pin-up queen thrown in for good measure. With the passage of time, it sure looks like the Shaw Brothers Studio got more right in Ho Meng-hua’s The Might Peking Man (a.k.a. Goliathon, a.k.a. etc., etc.), which screens during Anthology Film Archive’s recently launched Simian Vérité film series (trailer here).

Carl Denham would be disgusted by a scumbag promoter like Lu Tien. He hires heartbroken adventurer Chen Zhengfeng to lead his Himalayan expedition in search of a fabled giant simian, but then leaves him stranded, presumably to die, when they clash over Lu Tien’s management techniques. However, Chen is rescued by Ah Wei, an animal-skin-bikini-donning orphan, who is the apple of Ah Wang’s gargantuan gorilla eye.

After a year developing a romantic relationship with Ah Wei, Chen convinces her to come back to civilization with him, with Ah Wang in tow. Of course, as soon as Lu Tien gets his claws into the Ahs, he returns to his exploitative ways. Eventually, Ah Wang will feel put out by such shabby treatment—and you know what that means. Look out Hong Kong.

There are scenes of Chen and his expedition-mates firing into packs of stampeding elephants that you just can’t do anymore. Likewise, the way Ah Wei schleps around compliant leopards suggests the animals must have been drugged into the Age of Aquarius. Plus, Joyce Carol Oates would surely be outraged at the way the giant monkey is treated in the third act.

Regardless, Ho and special effects supervisor Sadamasa Arikawa (a veteran of the Godzilla franchise) pick-up admirably where Toho left off, leveling some of prime commercial district real estate. Given the square footage of Hong Kong, Ah Wang’s rampage is particularly devastating. Fittingly, he makes his last stand on the former Connaught Centre (now known as Jardine House), whose metal circular grid pattern provided plenty of accommodating footholds. At the time, it was the tallest building in Hong Kong, but now it does even crack the top one hundred.

The acting in Peking Man is what it is, but Ku Feng certainly came to play as the dastardly Lu Tien. As Chen, Danny Lee also keeps charging ahead like a trooper. Of course, it is pretty clear in each of her scenes why Ho and the Shaw Brothers cast Swiss-born Evelyne Kraft as Ah Wei.

Mighty Peking Man is just a ton of shameless fun. Don’t call it camp, because it is pure spectacle to behold. Highly recommended for fans of cult cinema and killer apes, The Mighty Peking Man screens this Monday (6/19) and the following Monday (6/26), as part of Simian Vérité at Anthology Film Archives.

NYAFF ’14: The Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires

At a time when Hollywood has contracted “co-production fever” in hopes of pandering to the Chinese market, it is worth re-visiting the granddaddy of all co-productions. The fusion of the Hong Kong-based Shaw Brothers’ kung fu and mysticism with Hammer’s gothic British horror was a true Reese’s peanut butter cup of a film. It was also a flop, but it is a highly entertaining flop. As a revered media titan well into his centenarian years, Sir Run Run Shaw (1907-2014) was more accustomed to turning out hits. Still, Roy Ward Baker’s The Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires (co-directed by the uncredited Chang Cheh) is a distinctive and only slightly eccentric choice to screen as part of the sidebar tribute to Shaw at this year’s New York Asian Film Festival.

Prof. Van Helsing is visiting early Nineteenth Century China to research the eastern variations in vampirism, armed with knowledge of the Ping Kwei legend. According to the story, the villagers were constantly terrorized by a cult of seven vampires and their minions, until one peasant finally reaches his breaking point. Heroically, he kills one of the seven, but at the cost of his life. Everyone attending Van Helsing’s lecture assumes he is a crank, except Hsi Ching. He happens to be a descendant of the brave Ping Kwei farmer, who has come to ask Van Helsing’s help in liberating his village from the remaining six.

Showing remarkable cultural sensitivity for a British colonialist in a 1970s film, Van Helsing stresses his inexperience facing China’s undead and the specific traditions and morays that make them different from the Euro-vamps. However, he cannot refuse a plea for help. Indeed, he becomes rather anxious to get out of town when his twit of a son Leyland shows up the local triad boss when putting the moves on a Scandinavian heiress. The adventurous Vanessa Buren is also eager to fund the expedition, so she joins the party over the professor’s objections.

Of course, before they can face the undead hordes, they will have to hack their way through a small army of triads, but that will not be a problem for Hsi, his six brothers (each with a specialized weapon of choice), and his sister, Mei Kwei. However, there is another European visitor to Ping Kwei, whom Van Helsing is well acquainted with—cue ominous thunderclap.

Everyone seems to love to pick on this film, just because it is admittedly an oddball concept. Yet, it deserves considerably more love. Action director Lau Kar-leung stages some very cinematic (and surprisingly bloody) martial arts sequences, presumably in collaboration with Chang. Perhaps inspired by the Hong Kong production, Peter Cushing brought his A-game as Van Helsing, as determined and authoritative as ever, but also protective of the youngsters and smart enough to know what he doesn’t know. In fact, Cushing looks quite comfortable and collegial with Shaw Brothers leading man David Chiang, who has all the right action chops for Hsi Ching and nearly makes his phonetic English dialogue sound natural.

Shih Szu (who almost broke out during her time with the Shaws, becoming more of a cult figure instead) is also impressively steely and sensitive as Mei Kwei. Former Miss Norway and Penthouse Pet Julie Ege gives Buren a bit of an edge and a backbone too. Unfortunately, Robin Stewart’s Leyland Van Helsing comes across like Hugh Grant’s ineffectual forefather. Frankly, it is hard to believe he could live through the first act.

As if that were not enough, Golden also holds the distinction of being the only Hammer Dracula film in which Christopher Lee does not play the Count. Let’s just say he was missed. However, Cushing, Chiang, Shih, some cool fight scenes, and a full dose of Hammer atmosphere make up for his absence. Recommended for Hammer Horror and Shaw Brothers fans, The Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires screens this Friday (the Fourth of July) at the Walter Reade Theater, as part of the 2014 NYAFF’s tribute to Sir Run Run Shaw.

King Hu at BAM: Come Drink with Me

With the release of ScarJo’s Lucy looming, we can expect the publicity campaign to wax rhapsodic about the significance of a female action hero. Of course, Michelle Yeoh has been kicking butt and carrying action films for decades. So has Angela Mao. Cheng Pei-pei also did it before Johansson and did it far better in King Hu’s Shaw Brothers classic, Come Drink with Me (trailer here), which screens during BAM Cinématek’s retrospective, All Hail the King: the Films of King Hu.

Drink would be Hu’s definitive film for legendary producer Run Run Shaw, but also his last. Furthermore, it introduces the first of Hu’s many strong woman protagonists: Golden Swallow, the daughter of the scrupulously just provincial governor. A gang of outlaws has abducted her brother, expecting to exchange her for a colleague due to be executed for his crimes. Instead, the old man dispatches Golden Swallow to recover her brother and dispense some justice.

Kind of-sort of disguised as a man, Golden Swallow marches into the bandit’s favorite tavern, looking for trouble. They try to oblige, but she far outclasses mere henchmen. Needless to say, they vow to return, with their boss, Jade-Faced Tiger to continue the “negotiations.” To make things fairer, she will make a secret ally in Drunken Cat, the local lush, who is considerably more dangerous than his easygoing façade would suggest.

Come Drink is hardly the most complex wuxia story ever filmed, but it delivers several striking action sequences. Indeed, the fight scenes are vintage Hu, as deeply influenced by ballet as martial arts. It is not hard to gather why Golden Swallow’s exploits are often identified as a forerunner to Ang Lee’s Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. It is also easy to see how it launched Cheng Pei-pei to overnight superstardom. She has poise, presence, and all kind of moves. (It is hard to fathom mistaking her for a man, but that is a genre convention we just have to go along with.) Even though he sings and clowns as Drunken Cat, Yueh Hua more than holds up his end, bringing to mind Donnie Yen with his earnestly likable badassery.

In fact, there is something appealing about Golden Sparrow being her family’s designated action figure. She is impressive, but not super-heroic. Both she and Drunken Cat have their physical and emotional vulnerabilities, but they demonstrate humanist virtues as well.

Thanks to Hu’s mystical trappings and striking backdrops, Come Drink With Me easily ranks amongst the higher end of Shaw Brothers productions. Nor can anyone argue with Cheng’s iconic work as Golden Swallow. A briskly paced tale of good versus the corrupt, Come Drink With Me is a film all wuxia connoisseurs should catch up with eventually. Highly recommended, it screens this Sunday (6/8) at BAM as part of their King Hu retrospective.

Late Night Kung Fu: Executioners of Shaolin

Obviously, God intended us to screen foreign films with subtitles. Yet, watching cheesily dubbed Kung Fu movies in drive-ins or on night-owl television is a rite of passage in danger of passing. Happily, Fuel-TV is going old school with Late Night Kung Fu, a Saturday night showcase of dubbed HK martial arts gold, hosted by Kelly Choi, which premieres tonight with Liu Chia-liang’s Executioners of Shaolin.

When civilians think of martial arts movies, it is probably the releases from the Shaw Brothers’ studio they have in mind. With their eerie mystical look and prototypical kung fu dubbing, SB films secured global distribution and a rabid cult following. Frankly, Executioners is just as good a film to start with as any other from the Shaws, guaranteeing a fair amount of gravity defying aerial fighting.

Hung Hsi-kuan is a near master of tiger style kung fu. His wife Wan Yung-chun is quite accomplished in crane style. Their son Hung Wen-ding is okay with crane but a complete novice at tiger. Maybe the family that trains together, stays together, but the senior Hung has sworn vengeance against Pai Mei, the evil albino eunuch priest who killed his Shaolin master and brothers. Nearly invulnerable, the legendary Pai is a deadly kung fu practitioner (who turns up in Tarantino’s Kill Bill as well). It is also a bad idea to kick him in the junk. It works out poorly for the kicker and leads to some of the most uncomfortable PG images in martial arts cinema.

There are some cool fight scenes in Executioners and a whole mess of training sequences that do not make a lot of sense. Of course, that is part of the genre’s charm. Shaw Brothers veteran Chen Kuan-tai certainly knows how to acquit himself during a fifty-to-one melee. In fact, Hung Sr. is one of his signature roles. However, it is Lily Li Li-li who really delivers the beat-down goods as Wan.

Ragingly politically incorrect, Executioners is a lot of fun in just the way you would expect. As an added bonus, Late Night Kung Fu is hosted by Kelly Choi. Though I have not seen any of her segments yet, I’m totally on-board with them in principle, especially if she plays them straight. Airing Saturdays at 11:00 PM Eastern, which seems like the appropriate time, Late Night Kung Fu kicks off the Shawfest tonight (6/18) with Executioners.