Widow Warriors (1990)

Widow Warriors (1990)
Aka: 虎膽女兒紅
Translation: Tiger Gallant Daughter Red

Starring: Tien Niu, Elizabeth Lee, Kara Hui Ying-Hung, Wang Lai, Wong Aau, Michiko Nishiwaki, Cheung Suen-Mei, Ha Chi-Chun, Eliza Yue Chi-Wai, Alex Ng Hong-Ling, Shek Kin, Michael Chan Wai-Man, Phillip Chan, Ken Lo, Ngai Jan, Winnie Lau Siu-Wai, Chan Ging-Cheung, Walter Tso Tat-Wah
Director: Johnny Wang Lung-Wei
Action Director: Sun Chien, Johnny Wang Lung-Wei

Widow Warriors stands out among the Girls n’ Guns movies as being a bit stronger on the character development and story than a lot of the other entries, which generally pit our female fighters against generic gangsters, drug dealers, and arms traffickers. Actor-turned-director Johnny Wang Lung-Wei directs another strong film based on a script by Manfred Wong, who later became a legend for both his work on the popular Young and Dangerous films and adapting the “Feng Yun” comic into a screenplay for The Storm Riders. His work here would serve him well for the later Young and Dangerous franchise. This film in particular plays almost like a Triad version of the 14 Amazons, or an “other side of the law” inversion of She Shoots Straight.

Liu Lung (Shek Kin, of Enter the Dragon and From China with Death) is the aging head of a Hong Kong triad, which has largely gone legit in the past few years. I mean, there is probably some crime going on behind the scenes and he still employees armed men to deal with rivals, but the bread-and-butter of his empire is pretty honest. Liu Lung has an equally-elderly wife (Wang Lai, of Hong Kong Emmanuelle and Fist of Fury III) who is an honest and pious woman who constantly worries about what karma her husband’s lifestyle will bring. Together they have five children: Liu Chuan-Hau (Phillip Chan, of Bloodsport and Double Impact); Liu Ma-Yee (Michael Chan Wai-Man, of Spirits of Bruce Lee and Shaolin Handlock); Liu Yong (Ken Lo, of Crystal Hunt and Mahjong Dragon); Ann (Wong Au, of A Bloody Fight and Thunder Cops II); and the youngest, Ching Ching (Elizabeth Lee, of Sword Stained with Royal Blood and Blonde Fury).

In addition to his wife and kids, Liu Lung took on a second wife about 17 years prior—that would’ve been about 1973, although the practice of polygamy was banned in Hong Kong in 1971. His second wife, or “concubine,” is Aunt Nan (Tien Niu, of The Brave Archer and Lackey and the Lady Tiger), whose teen rebellion lead to all sorts of debauchery before the “man of her dreams” knocked her up and left her with a baby, Wai (played as a teenager by Winnie Lau, of Future Cops and Dragon Heat). Wai is going through a rebellious stage similar to that of her mother, probably because she is only barely tolerated by step-siblings and the staff of the Liu household.

As this is the Hong Kong equivalent of Bella Mafia, all of the men have their own companions, too. Chuan-Hau is married to a lady whose name we never really learn, played by Eliza Yue (of Angel’s Mission and Satanic Crystals), but who is always fighting with her husband because of his unrepentant infidelity. Ma Yee is married to Kara Hui Ying-Hung (of My Young Auntie and Lady is the Boss), and the two are the kung fu fighters of the family. Liu Yong has a Japanese wife named Chieko (Michiko Nishiwaki), who is a karate champion herself. And Ching Ching, whom daddy has always shielded from the uglier parts of his profession, has just returned home from studying abroad with a new husband in tow: Shek Chi-Au (Ngai Jan, of Mr. Canton and Lady Rose and Devil’s Vendetta).

I spent three paragraphs just describing the family dynamics, since there are initially a lot of characters to follow and it’s easy to get the relationships confused. So, the plot itself revolves around a rival gang of Triads led by the Yim brothers who have someone on the inside. They want to put Liu out of commission and take over his business and whatever territory he may be controlling, too. With the help of the mole, they are able to stage an ambush at a traditional Peking Opera presentation with results in the deaths of most of the men—Ah Hau is murdered by his mistress, who was also in the Yims’ employee. Once the men are out of the picture, all of the underlings (including Kickboxer’s Dennis Chan) are unsure of what to do, since Liu Lung was the heart and brains of the operation. Thankfully, Aunt Nan spent a lot of time accompanying her husband’s Triad meetings and has enough street smarts from her earlier years that she is able to take the reins. Meanwhile, Kara’s character—whom everyone refers to as “sister-in-law”—suspects that the Ching Ching’s new husband may be the traitor in their midst.

The first half of Widow Warriors is largely a family drama, setting up all the characters, their relationships, and the external conflict of the Yim brothers trying to edge the Liu Clan out of the business. There is a brief fight sequence early on with Michael Chan beating up some guys for hitting on his wife and sister. But beyond that, it is mainly the different interactions between the members of the Liu family, with both Ching Ching and Aunt Nan being the emotional anchors and foils—the sheltered Ching Ching and the more seasoned (but still sensitive) Aunt Nan. The first half is closed out by the aforementioned massacre of the Liu men.

The pace then picks up the second half, as the women take charge and gear up for revenge. This results in some fight sequences involving Kara Hui and Michiko Nishiwaki, which were staged by both director Wang Lung-Wei and Venom alumni Sun Chien. The highlight is a lengthy two-on-one duel between Kara Hui (whose skills steal the show) and a pair of fighters: a kicker (Shaw Brothers veteran Jackson Ng) and a musclehead (Yang Hsiung, another Shaw vet). Before that, Michiko has a weight room throwdown with Ha Chi-Chun, who also did some fighting in Brave Young Girls. Those two duke it out with a shirasaya katana and a weight bar (used as a staff), respectively. The choreography in these sequences that I'm disappointed that Sun Chien didn't evolve his craft into a better career as an action director after the death of the old school film.

The movie then veers into Godfather territory as the women start executing their enemies one by one, including all the traitors. This culminates in a big Girls-with-Guns finale at a junkyard, where the women compensate their lack of gunplay skills with by using both the element of surprise and the altitude advantage. Lots of blood is spilled before the girls finally get their revenge against the remaining Yim brother, played by Stephen Chan. And even then, all of the women are battered and bloody by the time the smoke clears…that is, those who are not dead. They may be Widow Warriors, but they are not Immortal Warriors, or Bulletproof Warriors (the Brazilian title of Once Upon a Time in China). In the tradition of the best Hong Kong movies, nobody has plot armor and everyone is subject to violence and physical suffering (not just the overwrought emotional suffering that follows each death scene). Fight fans should keep their expectations in check: there isn’t a whole lot of martial arts, but what you see is of a high standard. And with generally strong performances and a stacked cast, you can’t go wrong with this one.

Robotrix (1991)

Robotrix (1991)
Chinese Title: 女機械人
Translation: Female Robot

Starring: Chikako Aoyama, Amy Yip, David Wu, Hui Hiu-Daan, Billy Chow, Kwai Chung, Wu Fung
Director: Jamie Luk
Action Director: Yuen Tak

Robotrix is one of the more memorable Category III films to come out of Hong Kong during the 1990s, mainly due to its loopy Sci-Fi premise. It is an exploitation film through and through, though it would be hard whether to call it a “Girls and Guns film with a sci-fi twist and an extra helping of T&A”, or a “Sexploitation film with a handful of fight scenes in it.” I tend toward the latter and it stands up there with Lethal Panther in terms of female-centric action movies that are interchangeable with softcore porn.

The movie begins with the Hong Kong police playing bodyguard to a Saudi prince whose sheik father is in town to attend a convention on robotics. Among the cops are Selina (Chikako Aoyama, of the Oedo Rapeman movies), who is visibly upset with having to keep watch over a man cavorting about in a swimming pool with four naked beauties. Shortly after she excuses herself—she is not about to watch her charge engage in a fivesome—the pool room fills with sleeping case. A mysterious man (Billy Chow, of Fist of Legend and Blonde Fury) kidnaps the prince and puts a large hole in Selina’s chest (what gun was he carrying? An AMT Hardballer?). Selina is rushed to the hospital with no prospects of leaving, except via the morgue.

Meanwhile, at the robot conference, we get to see the German and American models (played by Once Upon a Time in China’s Mark King and City Cop’s Ken Goodman, respectively) duke it out in a kung fu battle. They are defeated by another robot, built by Japanese scientist Dr. Sara (Hui Hiu-Daan) and her assistant, Anna (Amy Yip, of Requital and The Inspector Wears Skirts II). While showing off the robot to the interested sheik, the Hong Kong police commissioner (Wu Fung, of Big Brother and Skinny Tiger and Fatty Dragon) shows up to inform the sheik of his son’s kidnapping. Dr. Sara offers to let her robot perform the investigation and the commissioner allows her to transfer the now-deceased Selina’s memories and appearance to the fighting robot we saw.

We also learn the reason for the kidnapping. There is an evil Japanese scientist named Ryuichi Yamamoto who had tried secure funding for a robot army from the sheik. The sheik decided against it, so Yamamoto killed himself and had his consciousness transferred to a robot of his making—the guy we saw perform the kidnapping. Now, the sheik must agree to fund Yamamoto’s robot legion, or else his son gets it. I like the subtitle in this scene: “a mad robot is trying to undermine social security.”

Dr. Sara manages to create the robot clone of Selina, who initially has a hard time coming to grips with her new reality. Nonetheless, only the commissioner knows the truth; the rest of the cops, including Selina’s boyfriend (or suitor), Chou (David Wu, of In the Lineof Duty V and Tiger Cage II). They rekindle their romance while Anna goes undercover as a prostitute to flush out Yamamoto, who has been out screwing harlots to death—quite literally. It won’t be long before they find Yamamoto and he is going to wonder why the police officer whom he murdered is still out and about as if nothing happened…

Much like Inframan, you do not go into a film like Robotrix hoping to find anything resembling pseudo-science. The science fiction elements are there in set dressing, but no attempt is made to explain, even in gobblety-gook language, how memories are transferred, how synthetic skin is made, or how anything else works. This is a movie where “80s lightning” effects are run across the body of a dead woman and suddenly a robot body looks like her—very Metropolis level of technology here. It is fascinating to see female robots with sexual capabilities (to the point a man can go down on one and be none the wiser), AI brains (in the case of Anna), and a full range of movement (including martial arts), while 35 years later, we have silicone sex dolls with AI voice and interactive capabilities, but little actual movement—depending on who you talk to, we’re 5 years away from actual sex bots with realistic “movements”.

With that in mind, Robotrix is very much an excuse to film a bunch of sex (and rape) scenes, punctuated by the occasional fight sequence. I counted no fewer than seven pairs of breasts in this film, with four being displayed in the first five minutes. There are two consensual sex scenes and two rape scenes—the first rape starts consensual and then goes on after the woman decides she cannot keep up with Billy Chow’s stamina. Billy Chow’s rear end gets a lot of screentime, which is not something I ever thought I’d say about a movie and we even get a glimpse of his junk, too. All the sex scenes are both very explicit and lengthy, so smut fans will get their fill, just as much as Chikako Aoyama and Amy Yip do in their respective love scenes (there is no nudity from Amy, who does her famous “Yip Tease” when lying down with Stuart Ong).

The fight scenes were staged by Yuen Tak, who at the time was working on films like The Dragon from Russia; Prince of the Sun; and Saviour of the Soul. The fighting is typical modern-day kickboxing of a late 1980s or early 1990s movie. There are a few wire-assisted flourishes here, but not many. The choreography is pretty much what you would see from other non-fighter girls making movies at the time, think any movie with Sibelle Hu, or Carrie Ng and Cheung Man in films like Cheetah on Fire or Crystal Hunt. Only the finale really disappoints, as it starts as a fight scene and then becomes a stunt sequence involving a giant magnet and a trash compactor. I think sleaze hounds will get more out of this than fight fiends, although Billy Chow fans will certain enjoy him getting a lot of the spotlight.

Close Escape (1989)

Close Escape (1989)
Chinese Title: 飛越危牆
Translation: Leaping Over Dangerous Walls

Starring: Aaron Kwok, Max Mok, Michael Miu Kiu-Wai, Charine Chan Ka-Ling, Dick Wei, Yukari Oshima, Chan Chik-Wai, Albert Cheung Miu-Hau, Pomson Shi
Director: Chow Jan-Wing
Action Director: Phillip Kwok

Although nominally considered a Girls n’ Guns film because of the presence of Yukari Oshima in the cast, this is actually a more male-centric crime thriller with Oshima showing up in a supporting role. She delivers the film’s second best fighting performance, with top honors going to Dick Wei, whose speed and power were legendary during the heyday of his career.

Max Mox plays Lam Wai-Leung, a fencing student who has dreams of going abroad to study. Unfortunately, he is not all that well off in terms of money and his brother, a widower named Wai-Tung (Michael Miu, of Fatal Termination and The Fortune Code) isn’t much better. Wai-Tung lost a lot of money on the Stock Market in recent years and these days only has his apartment and a second property, a bungalow that he shared with his deceased wife (and his one major memory of her). The two men talk of selling it to finance Wai-Leung’s trip, but Wai-Tung has other ideas.

Another person who was hit by bad Stock Market decisions is a suave businessman named Chiu Ying-Kau (Dick Wei, of Project A and Yes, Madam!). Chiu, however, is the unscrupulous sort whose shift into crime was almost a given after legitimate investing went south. His current racket is diamonds, which involves buying diamonds and selling them to wealthier collectors for a small profit. Although, like many criminals in these movies, he is always looking for a way to get out of paying, which is where Wai-Tung comes in. Wai-Tung rigs the hotel’s AV system to fill the seller/buyers’ room with smoke and then breaks in and steals the diamonds.

Unfortunately, the criminal who betrays his vendor’s trust will ultimately betray the hired help he needed to swindle the former in the first place. When Leung Wai-Tung meets up with Chiu Ying-Kau the next night to hand over the diamonds, Chiu has him ambushed and killed on his way home. The murder is witnessed by both his brother and his brother’s best friend, Sgt. Ben Kwok (Aaron Kwok, of Divergence and The Storm Riders) of the Hong Kong Royal Police. Ben identifies one of the killers, Big Head Man (Albert Cheung), whom Ben’s colleague Uncle Kwut (Chan Chik-Wai, of Dragon Strikes and Return to Action) identifies as being one of Chiu’s men.

Much to Chiu Ying-Kau’s dismay, the diamonds that Lam Wai-Tung gave him were fake, a sort of guarantee on for his life (or a life insurance policy for his brother). Chiu sends his men to trash the Lam residence (and murder their dog) in search of the diamonds. When that doesn’t work, they kidnap Wai-Leung and try to torture the information out of him. When that also doesn’t produce results, Chiu murders Big Head Man—the police were already snooping around about him—and frames Lam Wai-Leung for it. He flees and is hit by a car driven by a Japanese reporter, Miko (Yukari Oshima, of A Book of Heroes and Ultracop 2000). Wai-Leung takes her hostage (he still has the gun that Chiu left in his hands) and forces her to go to his bungalow while he recovers and hides from the police. And maybe, just maybe, that may be where Chiu left the diamonds…

Although Close Escape’s plot is perfectly serviceable for a low-budget 80s/early 90s action flick, the film does suffer from a paucity of action, especially in the draggy middle act. There is a period of 30-40 minutes where Wai-Leung is convalescing in his brother’s bungalow and Sgt. Kwok is going above the law and observing Chiu, whom he knows has framed Wai-Leung. This section of the film may test any viewer’s patience.

It does start to pick up in the last half hour or so, starting with a fight between Yukari Oshima and chopsockey veteran Pomson Shi (Snake in the Monkey’s Shadow), who plays Chiu’s lead enforcer. There is an assassination attempt by Wai-Leung on Chiu, which leads to some fighting. And then there is the final fight in the cramped bungalow, where Yukari Oshima throws down with Dick Wei while Aaron Kwok and Max Mok team up against Pomson (what an interesting Anglican name). There is some good martial arts on display and that finale is very brutal and vicious. I would even venture to nominate this for Phillip Kwok’s best choreographed martial arts sequence of his post-Venom Mob career.

Aaron Kwok and Max Mok do well with the choreography, but it is really Yukari Oshima and Dick Wei who shine. Dick Wei, a Taekwondo expert, was never the flashiest of the kickers, especially given his particular style. But what Dick could do is the basics with speed, precision and ferocity. His roundhouse, side, and spin kicks look and feel like they hurt—oftentimes because they actually did. Yukari Oshima looks as good as ever, even though she only gets two fight sequences. We get to see her perform an “over-the-shoulder” kick and a scorpion kick, which is great.

The two are well matched, even though the script foregoes the usual HK action approach of “a sufficiently-trained woman is just as good as an equally-trained man” (which us fans can easily suspend our disbelief on) and goes for something a little more realistic: if two individuals, a man and a woman, have about equal training and skills in the absolute sense, the man will stay at the advantage based on his musculature and body structure. Dick Wei did it in Angel Enforcers and he does it again here.