Two Great Cavaliers (1978)

Two Great Cavaliers (1978)
Aka: The Deadly Duo; Blade of Fury
Chinese Title: 雌雄雙煞
Translation: Male and Female Double Spirits

 

Starring: John Liu, Angela Mao Ying, Chen Sing, Leung Kar-Yan, Wen Chiang-Long, Shih Chung-Tien, Lin Mei-Ling
Director: Yang Ching-Chen
Action Director: Kwan Hung, Leung Kar-Yan

 

Two Great Cavaliers is generally ranked in the middle when it comes to Angela Mao films. Few, if any, of her Taiwanese films reached the heights of her earlier efforts for Golden Harvest Studios. Critics tend to be in agreement in their assessments of this movie, their comments usually being summed up as “Pretty good fights, incomprehensible story.” While the latter clause can be debated to some degree, I would say the former is underselling it. Indeed, this film features some of the best fight choreography for a low-budget Taiwanese wuxia potboiler of that time. It’s certainly better than anything else not choreographed by Tommy Lee or Alan Chui.

In the earliest days of the Qing Dynasty—presumably before the Manchurians forced the Han Chinese to wear their hair in queues—a Ming loyalist, Sung Hua (Leung Kar-Yan of The Victim and Shaolin Avengers), ambushes some traitors and secures a rebel name list. He is attacked by the leader of the Han traitors, Kuan Yu-Chung (Chen Sing, of Kung Fu of 8 Drunkards and Bloody Fists), who injures him with an esoteric palm attack that “poisons” him. Said attack sounds like a rifle going off when it hits the target, adding some unintended comedy to the proceedings.

Enter our hero: Ou Yang-Chun (John Liu, of Shaolin Ex-Monk and The Secret Rivals). His life is a bit complicated at the moment. You see, he’s grown tired of the loyalist rebel lifestyle and just wants to settle down with his pretty new bride (Lin Mei-Ling, of Kung Fu Executioner and New Miracle Fighters). But when he’s invited to brave enemy territory to make it back to his clan headquarters and heal Sung Hua, he balks at the idea. This makes his fellow loyalists, including Xiao Mei (Angela Mao Ying, of The Himalayan and Proud Horse in Flying Sand), upset at him. Xiao Mei herself has carried a torch for Ou, and now seeing him with a new girl has left her in a jealous rage. Moreover, some of the loyalists have been mysteriously killed with Ou’s trademark throwing knives. Speaking of which, there’s a new kid in town (Shieh Chung-Tien, of Shanghai Lil and the Sun Luck Kid and Way of the Tiger) who wants to usurp Ou as the best knife fighter in the region. Plus, there are Kuan Yu-Chung’s lackeys picking fights at every turn.

The first half of the film mainly revolves around Ou Yang-Chun and his troubles. He then gets injured and disappears, at which point Xiao Mei picks up the slack. Her story involves her life getting saved by a mysterious swordsman, Pai Lung-Hsing (Wen Chiang-Long, of Moonlight Sword and Jade Lion and Shaolin Kung Fu). The swordsman has learned how to use acupuncture to treat Sung Hua, which is enough to convince Xiao Mei to teach Pai how to enter her clan’s hideout without getting killed by the myriad of traps. But there’s that business of Ou Yang-Chun’s daggers being used as a murder weapon. Is there treachery afoot? If so, then who is responsible?

There are a series of twists at the end, right before the final fight. The bad sound quality of the dub helps render the revelations nonsensical, not to mention it’s clear that the public domain release of this movie, often titled The Deadly Duo, has scenes missing. While that’s no more clear than in the final fight, which has about five minutes of superior fight choreography removed, I wouldn’t be surprised if there isn’t a scene or two missing from the story itself. It really rushes the sudden turns in the plot, so we only get a line or two of dialog explaining why character suddenly does something out-of-character, after which we move onto the next scene. That approach to filmmaking is characteristic of wuxia films, especially late 70s Taiwanese wuxia films. Unfortunately, that does not make them any easier to follow.

The fighting is excellent, however. Kwan Hung has largely had an undistinguished career of low-budget kung fu programmers like The Brave Lion and The Chinese Dragon. Kwan did work with Jimmy Wang Yu in the early 1970s, most notably Beach of the War Gods. That film is known by fans for its forty-minute climax in which Jimmy Wang Yu fights an entire army of Japanese pirates. Needless to say, that is undoubtedly Kwan’s greatest contribution to martial arts cinema. He does do a great job in this movie, however, assisted by non-martial artist (although you’d never know it) Leung Kar-Yan. The hand-to-hand combat they choreograph is suitably fast and complex, if not quite so much as what Sammo Hung or Lau Kar-Leung were doing in 1978. They also throw in a variety of weapons: straight swords, broadswords, spears, doubled-edged short spears, throwing knives and a weapon that looks like steel calligraphy brush.

Both Angela Mao and John Liu unleash some of their flashiest bootwork, especially in the nine-minute finale against Chen Sing. John Liu has gotten flack in the past decade or two for being a one-trick pony: he can kick high and hold his legs in the vertical splits, but that’s all. He is, however, a very charismatic actor, especially when compared to his teacher, Dorian Tan Tao-Liang. Liu does all sorts of high kicks here, including the patented Dorian Tan “hop kicks”. Angela Mao is best known for her merciless head kicking, which she does here. One poor sap gets six consecutive spin kicks to the dome! But she also does some hop kicking of her own as well, plus some solid traditional kung fu handwork and a brief fight with a spear. She certainly shines here more than she did in Moonlight Sword and Jade Lion and Proud Horse in Flying Sand.

If you are an Angela Mao fan, look for the Crash Cinema DVD release. That version has the entire final fight intact, as opposed to the Deadly Duo version that shows up on varying 50-movie packs. With that final fight, you’ll get some of Angela Mao’s best work post-Golden Harvest and a solid showcase for John Liu’s flexibility. Considering the over-edited, wire-assisted nonsense that defines martial arts cinema in Mainland China today, John Liu’s charisma and flexibility is definitely a strong counterpoint.