The Bride with White Hair (1993) Aka: Jiang-Hu, Between Love and Glory Chinese Title: 白髮魔女傳 Translation: The Legend of the White-Haired Demoness
Starring: Leslie Cheung, Brigitte Lin, Francis Ng, Elaine Lui, Law Lok-Lam, Bao Fang, Eddy Ko Hung, Joseph Cheng King-Kei
Director: Ronnie Yu
Action Director: Phillip Kwok
When it comes to contemporary (i.e., 20th century to the present) wuxia authors, there is apparently a trifecta of important authors: Gu Long, Jin Yong, and Liang Yusheng. There are two other important ones, in my esteem: Wong Ying and Wang Dulu. Gu Long’s ginormous bibliography essentially defined Shaw Brothers director Chor Yuen’s career during the late 1970s and early 1980s. Jin Yong needs no introduction: he wrote a handful of humongous novels which have been adapted to film and TV and continue to be until this very day (see Donnie Yen’s Sakra and Tsui Hark’s Legends of the Condor Heroes: The Gallants).
Wong Ying did a number of novels that were adapted to film by the Shaw Brothers, like Web of Death; The Bastard Swordsman; Portrait in Crystal; and Bat Without Wings. He also did a number of screenplays and story treatments for film, like Encounter of the Spooky Kind; The Loot; The Sword; and Opium and the Kung Fu Master. Sadly, he died in 1991 at age 35. Wang Dulu is best known for his Crane-Iron quintet of novels, of which Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon is book #4.
That brings us to Liang Yusheng, whose works place him alongside Gu Long and Jin Yong. Liang is credited with starting the “new school” of wuxia writing with serial publication of his novel Longhu Dou Jinghua, which was based on a famous public match between a White Crane and a Tai Chi master at the time. He ended up publishing some 35 novels during his lifetime, the most famous of which are Mount Heaven series, from which we got both Bride with White Hair (book 1) and Seven Swords (book 3).
The movie opens in the earliest days of the Qing Dynasty, around 1654 A.D. The Qing Emperor is dying and has sent four his generals to search for a mystical flower said to bloom once every 20 years. The flower is said to have curative properties and the Emperor wants to extend his life just a little more. The generals learn that the flower is being guarded by Wudan swordsman Cho Yi-Hang (Leslie Cheung), who refuses to give up the flower. He kills the generals and then starts narrating his story. (This bit is covered at the beginning of Legend of the White Hair Brides, a Singaporean series from 1996 that adapted Book 2 in the series: Sawai Qixia Zhuan).
Cho Yi-Hang is an orphan who was raised by the head of the Wudang Sect, Tzu Yang (Bao Fang, of Blood-Stained Tradewinds and Heroes Among Heroes). Cho Yi-Hang is the most talented swordsman among the clan’s children, although his own personal code of morals clashes with the more prudish ideals of the sect. This is especially true with the Wudan Clan’s second-in-command, Pai Yun (Law Lok-Lam, of Ten Tigers of Shaolin and Dragon Strikes), who does all he can to discredit Yi-Hang. His reason? He wants to install his daughter, Ho Lu-Hua (who’ll be played as an adult by Yammie Lam, of Witch from Nepal), as the next leader of Wudan.
One evening, Cho Yi-Hang is out saving a goat from one of the local farms from a pack of wolves when he finds himself surrounded by said canines. He is rescued by a young woman playing a flute, whom we’ll discover later is Lien, the film’s Wolf Devil Woman (if you will).
Years pass and Cho Yi-Hang grows into a righteous young man, although he is aloof from the politics of the Eight Clans and the ambition of the taking over Wudan. At the time, the Ming Dynasty is in its death throes: the Qings are making inroads into the Northeast and General Wu San-Kuei (Eddie Ko Hung, probably playing a character based on Li Tzu-Cheng) is getting ready to rebel and take over the Ming Dynasty from within. But the Wudan has more pressing issues at the moment:
We witness a massacre of peasants by the Ming army on account of their stealing food from the palace. The soldiers are in turn slaughtered by Lien (now played by Brigitte Lin, of Swordsman II and Ashes of Time), who is now a powerful martial artist. Lien is in the employ of the Magic Cult (that’s how the subs on my DVD refer to her), which is led by a Siamese-twin duo (Exiled’s Francis Ng and Angel’s Elaine Lui) who had been kicked out of Wudan some 20 years earlier for practicing black magic. The Magic Clan wants to destroy the Eight Clans and sends Lien to do their dirty work; Wudan wants to destroy the duo, collectively named Chi Wu-Shuang, and put an end to the Magic Cult.
But then Cho Yi-Hang and Lien meet and fall in love. But as their clans are destined to destroy each other, this forbidden love can only result in tragedy…
In a short “Making Of” video on my DVD, Ronnie Yu and his producer commented that Liang Yusheng’s writing style gets very deep into the characters’ emotions, which they wanted to portray onscreen. As a result, the film is a lot less about the story proper—the subplot involving Wu San-Kuei is handled offscreen more than it is handled onscreen—and more about the love of the two main characters, the ambitions of Wudan, and the male-half of Chi Wu-Shuang pining over Lien. Thank goodness for this approach, they got some great actors (Leslie Cheung, Brigitte Lin, Francis Ng) for the job. Leslie Cheung could play this sort of role in his sleep: passionate, but flawed and aloof. Brigitte Lin can go from giddy-young-girl-in-love to violent wuxia murderess in 0,5 seconds flat, having already honed the latter in the Swordsman sequels. The only liability among the actors is Elaine Lui, who does so much cackling over her brother’s unrequited love for Lien that she becomes irritating after a while.
If I were to be glib about this, I would say that The Bride With White Hair is Kung Fu Cult Master, but with more sex and nudity (including a brief glimpse of Elaine Lui). The visual approach is very similar. The fights seemed to have been filmed by fiddling (or mis-timing) with the camera’s shudder and then undercranking the footage (or shooting at a slower speed). It gives the action a blurry, sped-up, jerky effect that makes the fights look like “human stop-motion animation,” which is trippy. This is similar to a lot of the action in Kung Fu Cult Master, although that used more overcranking for a slow-motion blur effect. That film also brings up the Eight Clans, although Shaolin is nowhere to be seen in TBWWH.
Instead of going to China to film, Ronnie Yu and his team stayed in Hong Kong and built all the sets. This gives the film a very theatrical feel, which actually works for what is an intimate story set to the backdrop of more sprawling historical events (i.e., the entire fall of the Ming Dynasty). You might say that this movie strives for a Neo-Shaw Brothers stage look, which makes for a great counterpoint with films like New Dragon Inn and Ashes of Time, which were both filmed in the deserts of Western China. From a visual standpoint, I really like the film.
The action was staged by Phillip Kwok, who had also worked on wuxia movies at the time like Zen of Sword and Handsome Siblings. The action is pure fantasy wire-fu, with scenes of Lien pulling people in half with her bullwhip or slicing people up with super-long strands of her white hair in the end. There is some actual swordplay, but don’t expect a whole lot. This is all about the wire-work. Chi Wu-Shuang’s skills are ascribed to magic, so he can kill people simply by screaming at them and can essentially perform telekinesis. The fight scenes are also a bit short and there are no classic wuxia moments here, like what one might find in Kung Fu Cult Master or Butterfly and Sword. But for the purpose of the story and visual aesthetic, the action generally works.
Some reviews focus on the more erotic aspects of the film, which are there, although I think they are overstated. There is some nudity from a random dancer at a meeting of the Magic Cult and we briefly see Elaine Lui’s breast when we learn that her and her brother are Siamese twins. Leslie Cheung and Brigitte Lin’s big sex scene is torrid and passionate, but also no more revealing than Zhang Ziyi and Chang Chen’s scenes in Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon. So if you tune into this hoping to see Brigitte Boos, you’ll probably be disappointed. But if you want a wuxia movie in which every frame can be framed as a painting--the fight scenes are Impressionist, the sex scenes Rococco, other scenes being Baroque—then you should enjoy The Bride with White Hair.