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Cold War or 寒戰 (2012)

November 24, 2012 10 comments

Cold War or 寒戰 (2012) shows the film-making talents of Hong Kong at their strongest and weakest. Sadly, the weaker elements win out and, although this is a not unsuccessful film, it’s a clear failure. So what’s it about? Ah, now that’s a very good question and the primary cause of the failure. We have the screenwriting and directing credits shared between Lok Man Leung and Kim-ching Luk. A partnership can work very well because it ensures the script appears on the screen in its most polished form. Often an independent director can take a different view of the script and make changes, sometimes for the better. In this case, the first half of the film bowls along with interest high. This is inherently exciting both in physical and political terms. A bomb goes off, diverting police resources and focusing attention on the district of Mongkok. During this time, a mobile response unit arrests a drunk driver who is probably a judge’s son. He has just written off a high-end car and has to be physically restrained. It’s never explained what happens to the arrested man nor what consequences flow from the incident. All we can say is that the five officers in the unit are later taken hostage and their van “disappears”. Since the judge’s son is not taken hostage, there must have been a handover to other police units but this is never mentioned or explained. This suggests the only reason for this action sequence is to allow Kim-ching Luk to demonstrate the experience he has developed as Second Unit Director on sixteen films including the recent Korean hit, The Thieves.

Tony Leung Ka Fai confronts his own demons

 

Anyway, once a ransom demand is made, the responsibility for the “incident” is seized by Waise Lee (Tony Leung Ka Fai). In the absence of the Commissioner who’s out of the country, he declares a state of emergency and mobilises all Hong Kong’s finest in an operation he code-names “Cold War”. This is actually a breach of operational guidelines because his son Joe K C Lee (Eddie Peng) is one of the five hostages. There’s supposed to be no emotional tie between the senior officer in charge and any significant person involved in an investigation. The next most senior officer, Sean Lau (Aaron Kwok) therefore organises the votes among the key senior officers to depose Lee and assume the responsibility as the next in line. This is the difference between Old and New School. Waise Lee represents the tradition of the police force. Although his father was a senior policeman, he started off on the streets as an ordinary officer and worked his way up on merit. Sean Lau is the new breed. He’s highly educated and has been fast-tracked up the management hierarchy as an effective administrator. This is the source of resentment from the Old School officers and although his style is very inclusive and has produced a more efficient force, there’s a faction that would prefer the street-smart Waise Lee to become the next Commissioner. Thus, during the initial stages of the film, we can see the investigation as a crystalisation of the fight over the future of the force. Should it become “professionalised” with outsiders parachuted in as senior officers based on generic management expertise, or should it retain the career path for any officer to get from the beat to the top on merit?

 

As the investigation proceeds, the Independent Commission Against Corruption (ICAC) receives a tip-off from an unknown person in the police force. It alerts them to the fact this crime could not have been committed by an outsider. It requires specialist insider knowledge. The young Billy K.B. Cheung (Aarif Rahman) takes on the task of investigating, but quickly comes to focus on Waise Lee and Sean Lau. The alternative scenarios are that Waise Lee is masterminding the hostage drama to enhance his own reputation, or that Sean Lau is corrupt and doing it for the money. In due course, four of the five hostages are recovered, a senior officer dies in a shootout, and a big slice of the ransom money is taken. Billy Cheung interviews both officers but neither of them are impressed, calmly pointing out there’s absolutely no evidence of their involvement. It’s at this point that the film falls to pieces. Forensic evidence suggests several lines of inquiry, a car bomb kills the Treasury Officer who was responsible for signing out the ransom money. There’s a big police raid with lots of explosions and massive firepower from the SWAT team. The casualties are mounting. In the end, there’s some kind of explanation and an arrest is made but, to be honest, I’m still unclear about the motive. My gut tells me this was just a criminal who was in it for the money. Any other side effect was window-dressing used as a pretext to recruit the right people to make the whole thing work.

Aaron Kwok finding it can be tough when you take the responsibility

 

Frankly I despair of Hong Kong film-makers. They seem to favour lack of coherence as a virtue. All the majority do is cobble together a general idea to start themselves off and then think up justifications for fights and explosions. There’s little regard for credibility as one thing leads on to the next. Stuff happens until we get to the end and then there’s a vague explanation as if no-one in the cinema really cares what was going on so long as there were enough fights and explosions of increasingly destructive power. This is a tragedy. The initial set-up of the political infighting in the police has great potential but it’s completely wasted because, at the end, I have absolutely no idea why some officers were killed. What makes all this even more frustrating than usual is the propaganda asserting the Hong Kong justice system as the pinnacle of perfection, relying on the common law system, with the best police force in the world making the city a completely safe environment. This is after we’ve seen terrorist bombings, shootings and explosions. Hardly the best advertisement for a safe city. All the principal actors are excellent with Tony Leung Ka Fai and Aaron Kwok outstanding. As you watch, there’s a wealth of talent on display in what proves to be a very good ensemble performance. If only it had been in service to a credible plot, I would have been cheerleading from the front. As it is, I left the cinema deeply disappointed. The fact Cold War or 寒戰 is left with a cliffhanger showing the team expects to make a sequel is all the more dispiriting. It seems optimism is alive and well and living in Hong Kong.

 

Other films featuring Tony Leung Ka Fai are:
Bruce Lee, My Brother (2010) also featuring Aarif Rahman
Detective Dee and the Mystery of the Phantom Flame (2010)
Tai Chi Hero or 太极2英雄崛起 (2012) also featuring Eddie Peng
Tai Chi Zero or Taichi 0: From Zero To Hero 太極之從零開始 (2012) also featuring Eddie Peng

 

Tai Chi Hero or 太极2英雄崛起 (2012)

October 30, 2012 2 comments

Tai Chi Hero or 太极2英雄崛起 (2012) proves the old adage that, if you travel with hope in your heart, you are doomed to arrive disappointed. The first half of this saga distributed as Tai Chi Zero was great fun, mixing different styles and playing the part of the joyful iconoclast. Unfortunately, since this is the steampunk half, it runs out of steam. I would not go quite so far as to say it’s boring, but there are certainly patches where the people around me were yarning extravagantly. This is a shame because at its heart, Tai Chi Hero is one of these rather pleasing message films that deserves a better delivery. So what’s it about?

Yang Lu Chan (Yuan Xiaochao), Master Chen (Tony Leung Ka Fai) and Chen Yunia (Angelababy) face the Chinese army

 

We left our village enjoying the wedding of our potentially happy couple Yang Lu Chan (Yuan Xiaochao) and Chen Yunia (Angelababy) and rejoin as the knot is tied and Chen Zai-Yang (Feng Shaofeng), the long-lost brother, and his mute wife (Nikki Hsieh) return. This sets the basic theme. The first episode is very much about China’s under attack from the foreign devils. In playing the race card, the director Stephen Fung and scriptwriter Kuo-fu Chen are looking for nationalist fervour, uniting the largely expected Chinese audience against the cultural invaders. As a foreigner, I was rooting for the Chinese village, preferring the underdog to prevail when it has right on its side. This episode shifts the focus to the Chinese and although there is a contribution made by the British (and Germans through their artillery pieces), this is more about China coming to terms with itself and deciding what kind of future it wants. Put another way, the use of tai chi as a soft fighting style becomes a metaphor for the approach the Chinese leadership must take to minimise damage to its people and their culture. If we wanted to stretch the metaphor, we would be thinking about casting Hong Kong as the returning son having learned different ways while under foreign control. The two can rebuild the family relationship but only through mutual respect, not by main force.

Chen Zai-Yang (Feng Shaofeng) and his mute wife (Nikki Hsieh) approach Chen village

 

So, albeit in a heavy-handed way, the central story is about family and the shift in emphasis as the old settle into traditional ways while the young look for novelty. In this, Tony Leung Ka Fai is pivotal as the Master of the Chen village. His role is to maintain balance between the old and the new ways. Except he’s shown as having failed in his relationship with his oldest son. Naturally, as a proud new father, supremely confident in his own kung fu skills, he wanted to pass on the fighting style to his children. Sadly, the oldest boy had no real interest in fighting. He was a dreamer, destined to become an inventor, translating the visions of childhood into adult reality. This is where the “real” steampunk comes into play. He has two major innovations to offer us. The first falls into the class of augmentation. He was never motivated to actually learn how to fight, so he’s developed a clockwork-driven set of clothes and boots to wear which enable him to perform some of the standard moves. It’s an early version of The Tuxedo which enabled Jackie Chan to become an expert. However, Chen Zai-Yang outdoes himself with the magnificent flying machine. Not only does it make the efforts of the Wright brothers look primitive, it matches some of the modern fighter-bombers in being about to drop bombs and strafe troops on the ground with rockets. As Qing Dynasty hang-gliders go, this is in a class of its own. Add in the wonderfully baroque German cannons and we have quite a visual feast during the set-piece battle between the Chinese army sent by corrupt officials encouraged by Duke Fleming (Peter Stormare) and the Chen village.

Fang Zijing (Eddie Peng) and his British master Peter Stormare

 

In narrative terms, there are three acts. In the first, the returning son attempts to displace his father and turn the village over for demolition to allow the railway free passage. This is reasonably effective, using local superstitions to frame the newcomer Yang Lu Chan as a jinx likely to destroy the traditions of the village. Fortunately, Master Chen sees through his son’s deception and we move into the second act which is the arrival of the Chinese army outside the village led by Fang Zijing (Eddie Peng) and the fight led by Master Chen. The final third is set in the capital city as Yang Lu Chan proves his kung fu skills in an escalating series of fights until we get to the rather elaborately staged duel with Master Lin (Yuan Biao) above the kitchen where the Prince’s meal is being prepared. Sammo Hung deserves a lot of credit for seamlessly referencing the different preparation and cooking activities below in the fighting moves above. The sequence leading up to this fight is somewhat perfunctory and the resolution of the railway issue is, I suppose, an amusing go-with-the-flow tai chi solution. Indeed coming back to the message of the film, the family is reconciled, the married couple seem to have achieved some degree of happiness, and the East India company still lurks in the background with plans to make something new out of the failure named Zijing — a third episode is apparently planned.

 

I suppose I should not be surprised that a modern Hong Kong film should proclaim tai chi as a political philosophy in which the soft integration of all significant elements in the environment becomes the way in which to overcome obstacles. It’s the gentle way of winning by finding the route of least resistance, of using the enemy’s strength against itself. It’s a good way of showing that errors from the past can be corrected and new ways of forging the future can be discovered. I just wish the fun of the first episode had been retained. This is worthy and, in parts, dull. Some of the fighting is quite good but a lot of it is surreal and cut in a way that prevents you from seeing how the effects are supposed to be achieved. It has moments that are spectacular, but much of it is routine kung fu fare. Perhaps if I had not so enjoyed the first, this would have seemed better. If the team do get around to making a third, let’s hope they can recreate the innovative approach of the first.

 

For the review of the first part, see Tai Chi Zero or Taichi 0: From Zero To Hero 太極之從零開始 (2012).

 

Other films featuring Tony Leung Ka Fai are:
Bruce Lee, My Brother (2010)
Cold War or 寒戰 (2012)
Detective Dee and the Mystery of the Phantom Flame (2010)
Tai Chi Zero or Taichi 0: From Zero To Hero 太極之從零開始 (2012)

 

Tai Chi Zero or Taichi 0: From Zero To Hero 太極之從零開始 (2012)

October 8, 2012 2 comments

Quite simply, Tai Chi Zero or Taichi 0: From Zero To Hero, 太極之從零開始 (2012) is exuberant fun from start to finish. To understand the approach taken by the director Stephen Fung and the screenwriter Kuo-fu Chen, you need to understand what can go wrong with a smörgåsbord. This is the Scandinavian approach to a buffet meal. When you enter the restaurant, you are confronted by multiple dishes. Done well, there’s a real synergy between all the different tastes and flavours. Done badly and, despite there being one or two dishes you find enjoyable, the entire experience is something of a disaster. The team behind this film have done their homework and noted all the different styles and techniques that can be put together in a film. When triggering a flashback, for example, they know they can change the aspect, shoot in black and white and use a shaky camera to suggest a home movie. Or they can more generally fade from a freeze frame into a pop-art image, use comic book animation, borrow the video-game need to keep fighting to get to the next level, and so on. When showing kung fu, they can use slow-motion and draw the flow of chi on the screen so we can all follow the logic of the moves and see their consequences. I could go on, but you get the idea. This film is literally a mosaic of different methods but, so elegantly have they been put together that the result rises above mere collage as a pasting of bits on the same screen. This is film-making art, blending the disparate elements into one of the best tai chi, kung fu films I’ve seen for a long time. Indeed, to complete the irreverence to traditional conceits, it’s directly metafictional in using the subtitles to introduce the different actors by their names and not their roles, and to mention odd facts about their real-world backgrounds.

Yuan Xiaochao getting the maximum leverage

 

So what about the plot? Well, the poster alleges this is steampunk but that’s not strictly true. Although the track-laying machine is an exaggeration of what even modern technology can achieve, all the basic machines on display are more or less in period. With the exception of the central machine, there’s nothing so completely anachronistic that it qualifies as steampunk. What we have is a very traditional kung fu film in which China’s culture is being subverted by evil Westerners. In this case, they want to build a railroad and, through local agents, are literally not going to let anything stand in their way. It’s a standard plot having been recycled through films like Tsui Hark’s great series Once Upon a Time in China (1991) which invites us to lament the end of an era in which tradition was made redundant by a different cultural approach supported by foreign technology. The trilogy shows the worst effects of colonialism and the cultural imperialism that accompanied it.

Angelababy prepared to take on all-comers

 

Hence, this film shows us an idyllic village where traditional values have been fiercely guarded for generations. After a long prologue in which we see the birth and training of our hero in the hard fighting styles, Yang Lu Chan (Yuan Xiaochao) arrives hoping to learn the soft style for which the village is famous. He has a serious medical problem and, if he persists in using the hard styles, he will kill himself. Unfortunately, the villagers have a strict policy not to teach outsiders. The village is therefore a metaphor for China, resisting outside influences and preserving the “old ways”. To prove the value of the old ways, the village is then subject to destabilising forces. Our hero will not take no for an answer and learns the core of the soft tai chi style by fighting the villagers and learning from what they do. This is not a theft of their knowledge. Rather it’s using the local strength against itself. If they did not fight him, he could not learn from them.

Tony Leung Ka Fai showing us the traditional way is best

 

The second challenge comes from within. Fang Zijing (Eddie Peng) was a villager who went overseas and learned foreign ways. He returns to the village as an agent for the East India Company to persuade them to allow the railway to pass through. As a child, he was loved by Chen Yunia (Angelababy), but he’s now being backed by a British woman and her access to British technology. So this is a film about balance. Fang Zijing’s rejection must be set against Yang Lu Chan’s assimilation of the old ways. Similarly, the hard fighting styles will not work against armour-plating. You need the soft approach to slip inside its defences and then use the machine’s internal energy against it. The strategy comes from Master Chen (Tony Leung Ka Fai) who hopes to use the outsider Yang Lu Chan to defeat the British. That way, no-one will blame the village. Unfortunately, his daughter Chen Yunia joins in the fight directly, fueled by anger and jealousy for Fang Zijing. This leads to a direct attack in retaliation and gives us a chance to see Master Chen in action.

Eddie Peng cultural traitor taking on British ways

 

I accept Tai Chi Zero may not be to everyone’s taste. It’s a halfway house between the traditional Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (2000) style and the more Western comic-book fantasies like Scott Pilgrim vs the World (2010). The fighting choreographed by Sammo Hung is terrific, helped by the casting of Yuan Xiaochao, a former Wushu world champion. So, putting all this together, I left the cinema with a big smile on my face, looking forward to the second half which is due later this year. Yes, Stephen Fung filmed the two halves back-to-back and, if the clips are anything to go by, this may actually be more steampunkish with airpower adding to large cannons arriving by sea. Obviously, Western strategists recognise you can always defeat hand-to-hand prowess by aerial bombing and artillery fire from a distance.

 

Other films featuring Tony Leung Ka Fai are:
Bruce Lee, My Brother (2010)
Cold War or 寒戰 (2012)
Detective Dee and the Mystery of the Phantom Flame (2010)
Tai Chi Hero or 太极2英雄崛起 (2012)

 

Bruce Lee, My Brother (2010)

November 25, 2010 4 comments

The camera moves slowly through the space, exploring the rooms as if it half remembers them. The furniture stands silently on a polished wooden floor. There are children’s toys. The tracking shot ends on the ancestors.

They give strength and a sense of permanence to the family. Through their hard work and perseverance, each new generation has grown and prospered. They watch over the living as they try to build on what has gone before.

This is a biopic. It therefore has to obey various rules. Whatever is seen on the screen must be explained by a voice over. Talking heads must appear. There must be captions to tell us when and where we are, to introduce us to characters we remember from history. And there must be actors who recreate the lives of these people through the years. There will be babies who become youngsters and then enter the dangerous years of their teens. Parents and grandparents will remind each other of filial duties, and hand down their culture to each new generation as it passes through the home. But make no mistake. This is not a biopic with the sensationalism of Hollywood behind it. This is a quietly confident “Chinese” film, respecting the lives of the people as shown on the screen — allowing them the chance to grow and tell their own stories.

Almost as soon as the camera has shown us the empty space and we have seen the birth of Bruce Lee in San Francisco (it’s good joke about the name — perhaps it’s true) everything that follows revolves around the home. It’s always full of people, the dark kitchen a hub of activity, the mahjong tiles clicking on the tables as the adults play. In this space, people are made and then tested when they go out into the world. Did the parents do the right things? Have the children learned how to survive?

Tony Leung Ka Fai and Aarif Rahman

The spirit of the era of transition from before the Japanese occupation to the end of the film when Bruce must leave Hong Kong, is beautifully caught through the role of the father. Here is a man who makes his living in traditional Chinese opera. At first his fame must force him into collaboration with the Japanese then, in the aftermath, he slowly spreads his time between theatre and screen, watching how younger people turn away from the old and begin sampling the novelty of rock n’ roll and the Western lifestyle it represents. Throughout, Tony Leung Ka Fai gives a beautifully nuanced performance, first as the young son in a house of women dominated by his mother, and then through his years as the head of the family. It’s as if he’s carrying the weight of duty and responsibility on his shoulders, but always willingly, never resentfully. At first, he persists in the tradition of opium but, when this exposes him to blackmail, he quits. All his sacrifices are for the good of the family. Christy Chung as his loving wife who gave up status to marry an “entertainer” is fiercely passionate when she needs to be, quietly loving the rest of the time. They are the bedrock of the new generation.

Christy Chung

When we reach Aarif Rahman as teenaged Bruce, we find someone going through his rite of passage into adulthood. This is the role that had to be right. You can’t have a biopic unless your stand-in can fill the shoes of the real man. Again, this is not a showy performance. There are moments of great stillness as you see him struggling, thinking about what kind of man he will become. He is fierce in defence of his friends, selfless to a fault, some might say. Yet even as a teen, the flame of ambition burns within him and, when finally harnessed in pursuit of real fighting skills, we see him become more grounded. There’s a telling moment when he explains why he wants to learn Wing Chun (from the Yip Man, no less). He is interested to see whether it offers practical skills. Working in the Hong Kong film industry, he has watched the early “kung fu” movies being made. He knows they are action dramas without substance. When he discovers Wing Chun is real, he learns physical responsibility.Aarif Rahman strikes a pose

The film is beautifully structured to build to a climax forcing Lee’s departure from Hong Kong. All the strands of early love, the friendship between boys growing up together, and the inherent dangers lurking just under the surface in Hong Kong in general and the New Territories in particular, are woven together to produce genuine drama. It may not be quite the history I thought I knew, but it’s terrific entertainment. Because the family stays calm no matter what is happening around it, potential script problems of melodrama and sentimentality have been avoided. There are some touching and tender moments and, at times, there’s an overlay of sadness. Children always disappoint their parents. Parents must always love their children, whatever they do. Perhaps it really is bad luck for a father to see his child leave the country. As must be the case, there is some fighting. But not as much as you might imagine. This is not about the Bruce Lee who strutted and fought his way across the screen through the 1970s. Here we see the seeds planted by his parents and nurtured by his family. They grow into a young man who fights for his own honour and for the soul of his friend.

This is a genuinely affecting family history. Whether this history is true does not matter. The people we see on the screen feel real and what they do matches our expectations. They live and it’s a pleasure to know them during our time together in the cinema. In every way, this is a perfect way to celebrate the seventieth anniversary of Bruce Lee’s birth.

 

Other films featuring Tony Leung Ka Fai are:
Cold War or 寒戰 (2012)
Detective Dee and the Mystery of the Phantom Flame (2010)
Tai Chi Hero or 太极2英雄崛起 (2012)
Tai Chi Zero or Taichi 0: From Zero To Hero 太極之從零開始 (2012)

 

Detective Dee and the Mystery of the Phantom Flame (2010)

October 20, 2010 3 comments

There’s a delicious moment when I now start thinking about the old “coals to Newcastle” idiom. As a denizen of the named city, I tip my hat to the wiseacres who caught the irony of trade cycles. Indirectly, they were talking about me. I grew up surrounded by coal mines, with pit-head winding gear and spoil-heaps dotting the landscape, but never really thought about the product. I just accepted half my local community worked in the shipyards, and the other half emerged blackened and blinking into the light when the shifts ended. One of these days, I will go back, but it will be in sadness. The shipyards are mostly gone, redeveloped for housing. The pits have been closed for decades — Newcastle really does import its coal these days.

Back in the 1960s, I remember discovering Robert Van Gulik’s stories about Judge Dee. This was one of the early efforts at locating the traditional Golden Age detective story in a different era. In this case, he borrowed from an original Chinese source to locate an investigating magistrate in seventh century China. Based on the real-world character Di Renji, Van Gulik produced a series of stories, rather wooden by modern standards, in which our hero solves crimes and punishes the guilty.

Now we fast-forward to modern times with a film made in China by a Hong Kong director featuring the same “Detective” Dee. Set in about 690 AD, our hero is recalled to investigate two deaths which threaten to interfere with the imminent ascension to the Imperial throne of Wu Zetian. She has been acting as Regent and now assumes the right to become Empress. This completes the circle with a Chinese hero reclaimed from the West and now glorified in film by director Tsui Hark.

As a film about a famous detective, the script had better deliver a good mystery for him to solve. That’s why we pay the price of admission. On this criterion, I’m pleased to report the core puzzle is well constructed. Despite being overlaid with the obvious implausibility of supernatural and fantasy elements, the practicality of the who, the how and the why are elegantly conceived. As is always the case, the pool of suspects is whittled down, and we are soon left with only one real prospect for the villain, but there’s a coherence, if not always logic, to the investigation.

Deng Chao, Li Bingbing, Tsui Hark, Carina Lau and Andy Lau at the 67th Venice Film Festival

I also got what I wanted in Andy Lau’s portrayal of Detective Dee. He’s quietly determined and represents the best traditions of the analytical detective by thinking his way through to the solution of the problems. In this historical context, he’s a political realist and obsessional in his drive to arrive at what he considers the best outcome for the country. Naturally, when thinking fails, he can fight as well. In this, I forgive the supernatural power of his mace of office. Every martial arts expert must have a magic weapon of some kind, and this is understated while remaining highly effective. As to the rest of the primary players, Chao Deng is wonderful as the albino investigator, blending undoubted intelligence and some political guile with a genuinely creepy air of ruthlessness, being prepared to torture a key witness to the first death played by Tony Leung Ka Fai. Bingbing Li is nicely caught in the middle of the continuing conflict between Dee and the woman waiting to be Empress. While Carina Lau shows enough vulnerability as the aspirant Empress to be all-too-convincing. She is only doing what is necessary for the long-term prosperity of the Empire.

At its heart, this is a superb piece of film-making with the first forty-five minutes representing the highest possible standards in every respect. It’s a wonderful balance between a possible supernatural threat set in an environment that is a highly original metaphor for the Tang Empire. There’s a semi-rational explanation for the manner of the deaths — a form of internal combustion induced by phosphorus from an unlikely source — and we are used to the excesses of physical performance achievable by kung fu exponents. All this creates a rich texture for the story-telling. As a setting, the dominant statue of the Empress-to-be, rising in the forefront of the port and overlooking the palace, is a striking image. It’s a form of deification, recognising the transformation of a mere Regent into the Empress with absolute authority. The price paid by a woman fighting her way to the top of the political heap, has been many bodies. Everyone in the way is expendable. It’s therefore not surprising that, as the sun rises and sets, her shadow should fall across the capital city and the court where her political rivals plot her downfall.

But when we get into the second half of the film, the fantasy starts to get in the way. We have an unnecessary kung fu skill of disguise but, far more significantly, the fighting loses its focus when we go down into the Phantom Market and beyond.

Sammo Hung was responsible for the fight choreography which, in the early sequences is very good, as you would expect from an artist with vast experience on both sides of the camera. But it’s when we come to the extended wire work that things somewhat fall apart. There comes a point when people swinging from one side of a set to another becomes rather silly and, unfortunately, this point is reached in this film. In an attempt to cover up the strangeness of the emerging sequences, the scenes are cut togeher in an incoherent way. We are not allowed to watch an emerging battle of skillful martial artists. We simply see people vaguely interacting and possibly chasing each other, but the overall effect in the second half is immensely disappointing. In this, I put the blame squarely on Tsui Hark’s shoulders. What was spectacular in the innocent days of Zu Warriors from the Magic Mountain, has become overstylised and pretentious to modern audiences as the technical side of special effects and stunt work has developed. It’s clear many sequences are included simply because they can now be shot without looking too amateurish. This is hasty and overambitious. A creative mind wanting to push forward, but not prepared to wait for technology to catch up.

Although the end achieves a kind a steampunk magnificence and, to some extent, rescues the overegged fighting and chase sequences between Dee and the villain, I was left feeling somewhat disappointed. The story is good. The cast are all excellent. What a shame the essential element of kung fu fails to deliver. Nevertheless, it’s worth seeing. Whatever its failings in the second half, the director’s intention and over-the-top style are engaging even though flawed. It’s not in his nature to be comfortable with greater realism in the fighting. A shame really. A little more conservatism would have transformed a merely good film into an excellent film.

 

Other films featuring Tony Leung Ka Fai are:
Bruce Lee, My Brother (2010)
Cold War or 寒戰 (2012)
Tai Chi Hero or 太极2英雄崛起 (2012)
Tai Chi Zero or Taichi 0: From Zero To Hero 太極之從零開始 (2012)

 

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