Showing posts with label David Chiang. Show all posts
Showing posts with label David Chiang. Show all posts

Friday, May 25, 2018

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.

Thursday, May 24, 2018

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 14th 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.

Wednesday, July 05, 2017

NYAFF ’17: Election

Big D is the Al Gore of the Triads. He assumed he was next in line for the two-year chairmanship of the Wo Shing Society, but the Uncles elected Lok instead. So, does he accept the results of the voting and concentrate on his own business? No, of course not. The resulting power struggle escalates into full-scale street violence in Johnnie To’s modern classic Election (trailer here), which screens during the 2017 New York Asian Film Festival.

Frankly, Lok appears to be the more forward-thinking of the two candidates, whereas Big D can fly off the handle a wee bit. Slightly disappointed by the election results, Big D lashes out at two swing-voters he holds responsible. In response, the outgoing chairman dispatches his lieutenants to China with the Dagon Baton, which is ceremoniously handed down to each new chairman. Thus, begins a mad scramble between the two factions for strategic possession of the baton. However, most of the plotting will be done within prison after Chief Superintendent Hui has both candidates and several senior uncles arrested, in hopes of preventing open war.

This is the film that will probably always come up first when you google Johnnie To—and for good reason. For many, it was also their gateway drug into a full-on Hong Kong cinema addiction. It is a lean, mean, snarling machine of a film, but there is also something strangely beautiful about its savage austerity.

Both Simon Yam and “Big” Tony Leung Ka-fai give classic, career-defining performances as the diametrically-opposed Lok and Big D, respectively. There scenes together are pure movie magic—those who have seen it will instantly know what I mean.

They are indeed the bosses of bosses, but Election is fully loaded with first-rate supporting turns. Lam Suet and Gordon Lam are terrific as Big Head and Kun, two henchmen initially on opposite sides of the factional divide, who meet rather awkwardly. It is amazing to see superstars like Louis Koo and Nick Cheung getting relatively limited screen-time (at least in the initial film), but they burn up the joint with their hardboiled intensity. It is also cool to see Shaw Brothers mainstay David Chiang as the commanding Chief Superintendent. Yet, perhaps the late, great Wong Tin-lam’s quietly droll turn as Uncle Teng, the Uncle of Uncles, best personifies the crafty film.

Election would be followed by two sequels that would continue and deepen the story, reaching Shakespearean levels of tragedy. Hubris: it’s a killer. Yet, Election ends on a perfect note that certainly does not lack for closure. There is no question it is a contemporary classic. Very highly recommended, Election screens Friday (7/7) at the Walter Reade, as part of this year’s NYAFF.

Thursday, July 03, 2014

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.