White Crane Chronicles: David Carradine Back in China

He walked the earth “like Caine from Kung Fu,” but he eventually returned to his Wudang monastery to find peace in his later years. Unfortunately, the violence of the outside world will give him no respite. His name is Crane, not Caine and this time the late David Carradine was not pretending to be anything but caucasian, but there was definitely a lot of winking and nodding going on towards his 1970s television show. Regardless, the fight direction and production values were definitely a cut above average in The White Crane Chronicles (a.k.a. Kung Fu Killer parts I & II, a two-part miniseries (also considered two be a back-door pilot that did not get a full series pick-up), which releases this Tuesday on BluRay, from Mill Creek Entertainment.

After Crane’s missionary parents were murdered, Myling, the grand abbess of the monastery, took in the young white waif. Of course, he thrived under her instruction, but felt compelled to leave, for reasons that will be partially explained in the second installment. Regardless, his tranquil golden years hiatus will be short lived when the soldiers and thugs hired by the Warlord Khan gun down most of the Wudang monks and students, including Myling. Only White Crane and his student Lang Han survive.

Despite Myling’s dying words, Crane ventures back to 1920s Republican Shanghai in search of vengeance, leaving Lang Han to look after the villagers who had been protected by the Wudang monks. Once there, he quickly befriends Jane Marshall, an American torch singer performing in the night club managed by her sort-of-lover, Bingo Quo. Khan is her biggest fan and would be patron, but he also happens to be holding her opium-addicted brother Peter Marshall (just try not to think of the Hollywood Squares whenever you hear his name) captive, forcing him to mix a particularly lethal concoction of poison gas to fuel his ambitions of Chinese conquest and unification.

Things will be mostly resolved at the end of part one, but Bai, a briefly seen bitter rival from Crane’s past reappears in the concluding segment. In fact, part two feature some of the best fight sequences, thanks to the skills and action cred of Anya Wu, who is terrific as the villainous Bai’s chief lieutenant. The bald and scarred Bai, as played by Lim Yu-Beng is also a worthy opponent for White Crane.

Indeed, there are a number of terrific fight sequences choreographed by Cai Li (whose work includes Hero and House of Flying Daggers). He wisely tailors the moves for Carradine, who was then in his early seventies, but still looked relatively credible (words cannot express the superiority of White Crane over Son of the Dragon, another Carradine miniseries filmed in China two years earlier).

Lilting: Cheng Pei-pei in the Dramatic Spotlight

Accurate translations are important in summit conferences and business meetings, but the ethics are a bit trickier on the personal level. A first time translator interpreting for an elderly nursing home couple will grapple with questions of how much and faithfully she should relay their words to each other. However, there are even greater unresolved personal issues lingering between the man who hired her and the Cambodian-Chinese woman utilizing her services in Cambodian-born British filmmaker Hong Khaou’s Lilting (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

Junn’s time in the nursing home was supposed to be temporary, but her son Kai was tragically killed in a traffic accident before he could arrange a new living situation for her. Unfortunately, she could not have moved in with him, because she never would have accepted his relationship with Richard. After Kai’s death, Richard tries to look after Junn out of a sense of loyalty, but she begrudges his presence, mistakenly blaming him for her current circumstances.

At least the home brought her together with Alan, a British pensioner who cannot speak any Chinese or Cambodian dialects. Nonetheless, they seem to enjoy each others’ company. Wanting to help facilitate their romance, Richard recruits Vann to translate. It works well for a while, perhaps even softening Junn’s attitude towards her late son’s “roommate,” but the mourning mother might be too set in her ways to allow any of her inter-personal relationships to deepen or evolve.

Cheng Pei-pei never flashes her kung-fu moves in Lilting, which is somewhat disappointing, but the Come Drink with Me star’s straight-forward acting chops are impressive enough. It is a restrained but devastating portrayal of grief and resentment. Never sugarcoated, Cheng’s performance shuns sentimentality and theatrics, quietly going to some very deep and dark places.

While many will also focus on James Bond franchise alumnus Ben Whishaw’s co-starring turn, the film’s real discovery is Naomie Christie. Her acutely perceptive work as Vann in many ways functions as the viewer’s entry point. She is even more of an outsider to the proceedings than Richard, yet she too finds herself forming judgments and allowing herself to become emotionally involved.

Lilting represents quite an accomplished feature directorial debut from Hong, who masterfully maintains a mood of exquisite sorrow, nicely abetted by the sensitive, Sundance award-winning cinematography of Ula Pontikos. It is a graceful film with understanding for all and malice towards none. Recommended for Cheng’s fans who wish to see the icon in a whole new light, Lilting opens this Friday (9/26) in New York at the Village East.

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.