Dragon Inn (1992)

Dragon Inn (1992)
Aka: New Dragon Inn
Chinese Title: 新龍門客棧
Translation: New Dragon Gate Inn

 

Starring: Maggie Cheung Man-Yuk, Brigitte Lin Ching-Hsia, Tony Leung Ka-Fai, Donnie Yen Ji-Dan, Xiong Xin-Xin, Lau Shun, Elvis Tsui Kam-Kong, Yen Shi-Kwan, Lawrence Ng Kai-Wah, Yuen Cheung-Yan
Director: Raymond Lee
Action Director: Tony Ching Siu-Tung, Yuen Bun, Cheung Yiu-Sing

 

As I’ve stated in other reviews, after The Swordsman resurrected the wuxia film in 1990, it brought with it some new rules. More importantly than the whole wire-fu trended it helped to propagate, it established that every new wuxia film should 1) be an adaptation of an existing wuxia novel (preferably by Jin Yong or Gu Long) and/or 2) had already been adapted to film by the Shaw Brothers. Case in point: The Swordsman was an adaptation of Laughing and Proud in the Martial World (or however you want to translate Xiao Ao Jiang Hu) by Jin Yong and was adapted by the Shaw Brothers as The Proud Youth in 1978.

When Tsui Hark and his Film Workshop studio (with the help of Ng See-Yuen and Seasonal Films) decided to tackle King Hu’s classic Dragon Inn, it sort of a tangent of Rule #2: Dragon Inn had been a Taiwanese production, but King Hu made it after leaving the Shaw Brothers, so it sorta counts. It is also an all-around excellent remake, following the same story while adding enough quirks of its own to establish its own identity.

In the Ming Dynasty circa 1457, the empire is well on its way to becoming a police state. The eunuchs of the Eastern Depot have amassed a lot of power, having been placed in charge of the empire’s secret police. In this case, these eunuchs, led by Cao (Donnie Yen, of 14 Blades and Iron Monkey), have established the Black Flag Army. Composed of the best martial artists in the land, the Black Flag Army is in charge of arresting, torturing and executing all of the Emperor’s enemies. More importantly, they are in employed in securing the power of the Eastern Depot itself.

As the story opens, the Eastern Depot has arrested the Emperor’s Minister of Defense on the grounds of being a rebel rouser. In fact, the Minister of Defense realized just how much the Eastern Depot was abusing their power and had a letter sent to the Emperor to rat them out. Apparently, the letter itself was intercepted by the Black Flags and now the Minister is in their custody. Eunuch Cao has him tortured and murdered, and then orders the slaughter of his entire family, save two of his children.

Why save his children? Well, one of the minister’s most loyal retainers was a general named Zhao Huai’an (Tony Leung Kar-Fei, of Cold War 2 and Island of Greed). General Zhao holds enough power to represent a threat to the Eastern Depot, so Cao wants to kill him, too. Therefore, he uses the children as bait to lure him out into the open and sic the Black Flag soldiers on him. That doesn’t quite work as planned: instead of General Zhao showing up, it’s his lover, Qiu Mo-Yan (Brigitte Lin, of The Swordsman 2 and Deadful Melody), who comes to the rescue with the help of some mercenaries (including Yen Shi-Kwan and Yuen Cheung-Yan, who fought each other in Once Upon a Time in China). After a pitched battle with the Black Flag Army and Cao’s other eunuch cronies, Qiu and her team make a break for it and disappear into the desert.

In order to reach the border and get the hell out of China, our heroes have to travel across the desert to the Dragon Pass. The closest bastion of civilization in those parts is a small establishment known as Dragon Gate Inn. As opposed to the original version, in which the inn was run by a man, the owner of the inn is a beautiful woman named Xiangyu (Maggie Cheung, of The Barefooted Kid and Police Story). Xiangyu is a bit of a vixen, although part of it is an act to lure unsuspecting customers into her bedroom so that she can kill them and her cooks can use their bodies for the inn’s pork buns.

Qiu Mo-Yan and her entourage show up at the inn with the intention of staying the night, meeting up with Zhao Huai’an, and then making their way to the border the next day. Unfortunately, things do not go as planned. For starters, Xiangyu falls madly in love with Huai’an the moment he shows up at the inn. Second, this is the “rainy” season in Western China and inclement weather (of near-flash flood proportions) forces Qiu and the others to stay a few extra days. Finally, while waiting for the rain to stop, a bunch of Black Flag soldiers led by Eunuch Jia (Lau Shun, of Blade of Fury and A Chinese Ghost Story II) show up at the establishment. And thus begins the battle of wits between the good guys and bad guys, as Cao and his army make their way toward the inn.

Dragon Inn is an excellent film, with strong production values, wonderful cinematography and editing, great acting, and some solid action choreography courtesy of Ching Siu-Tung and Tsui Hark regular Yuen Bun. Martial arts purists will undoubtedly be put off by the excessive use of wires in the fights—even Maggie Cheung can move from point A to point B inside the inn without performing a wire-assisted jump—but that’s just how things were being done in 1992. The story itself is familiar, although it adds a love triangle element involving the three leads, plus a cannibalism subplot, which goes a long way to explain how somewhere out in the sticks could have a steady supply of meat for its guests.

All of the performances are good, but Maggie Cheung stands out as the vamp owner of the inn. Her loyalties are constantly shifting between the two parties taking up residence at the inn, especially when it becomes clear that for all of her schemes, Huai’an may simply not return her affections. When all of the tension finally gives way to violence, her Xiangyu character is forced to take a side and enter the fray. Cheung spent much of the 1980s in more comic roles, and while she does get to do some sarcasm and fast-talking here in order to cool down the atmosphere between the good guys and eunuchs, she also goes full seductress in some parts and sword-swinging badass at the end. She was nominated for Best Actress at the 1993 Hong Kong Film Awards, losing to…well…herself, for her dramatic powerhouse role in Center Stage.

From a technical standpoint, the film looks great. Arthur Wong’s cinematography should have won an award, but Center Stage got that instead. Nonetheless, Wong did get nominated for his work at both the Hong Kong and Taiwanese Golden Horse Awards. The running fight in the desert sands at the end is one of the most beautifully-filmed swordfights on film. Hung Poon also got nominated for Best Editing in both Hong Kong and Taiwan, and his style compliments Tony Ching’s choreography just fine.

The action here is also quite good, having garnered a nomination at the Hong Kong Film Awards, but actually winning it at the Taiwan Golden Horse Awards. Those looking for real martial arts will get a little bit at the beginning, as we see the Black Flag Army in training. There is also some at the end, when Donnie Yen finally throws down with our protagonists amidst a sandstorm. Apparently, Donnie Yen choreographed his own movements for the scene, creating a one-handed form for the shuang shou jian, or two-handed straight sword. According to Donnie Yen’s website, he also sustained a serious eye injury during this sequences, but kept filming nonetheless. In fact, the material on his site best describes the finale[1]:

"[This fight sequence], with twirling and twisting bodies flying through the air amid clouds of sand (courtesy of Ching Siu-tung’s signature wirework), are phenomenal. You’ll be guaranteed to gasp when Yen rises from the buried sands to take on the heroes. It’s a spectacular and surprising entrance, and Yen sustained a serious eye injury while executing the stunt. However, undeterred, he returned to continue filming the confrontation scene, taking on the stunt doubles for Brigitte Lin, Leung Ka-fai, and Maggie Cheung, and choreographing his own movements in this fight. It’s a whirling dervish of a scene. Furthermore, Yen exhibits masterful skill with two-handed straight sword forms, this weapon rarely being seen in films[2]. Yen earlier trained in this style while studying in China."

 

Thanks to its expert technical credits, strong soundtrack, a great performance from Maggie Cheung, and an unforgettable finale, Dragon Inn both honors its inspiration and stands on its own as one of the best wuxia pian of the 1990s New Wave revival. Producer Tsui Hark directed a sequel to this movie some 19 years later: Flying Swords of Dragon Gate, starring Jet Li as Zhao Huai’an and Zhou Xun as Xiangyu.

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[1] - https://web.archive.org/web/20021204131956/http://www.donnieyen.com:80/filmdragongate.htm

[2] - Michelle Yeoh used this weapon in the final phase of her duel with Zhang Ziyi in Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon.

Police Story III: Supercop (1992)

Police Story III: Supercop (1992)
aka: Supercop
Chinese Title: 警察故事III超級警察
Translation: Police Story III: Super Cop

Starring: Jackie Chan, Michelle Yeoh, Maggie Cheung Man-Yuk, Kenneth Tsang Kong, Yuen Wah, Bill Tung Biu, Josephine Koo Mei-Wah, Kelvin Wong Siu, Phillip Chan Yan-Kin, Lo Lieh, Ailen Sit Chun-Wai, Ken Lo Wai-Kwong
Director: Stanley Tong
Action Director: Stanley Tong, Stanley Tong’s Stunt Group[1], Bruce Law

 

By the start of the summer of 1997, I had seen three Jackie Chan films. The first was Rumble in the Bronx, which I had missed in the theaters, but rented a couple of times after it came out on video. Not long after the first time I watched Rumble in the Bronx, my older brother and I rented Crime Story, which was released straight to video. Finally, it was around January of ’97 that my brother, his friends and I caught Jackie Chan’s First Strike (aka Police Story IV) at the dollar theater on a double bill with Beavis and Butthead Do America. I had missed watching Supercop in the theater and for whatever reason, hadn’t gotten around to watching it yet. My brother did buy the soundtrack, which featured Warren G and Adina Howard doing a hip-hop version of “What’s Love Got to Do With It?” and Tom Jones doing a Jackie-centric cover of “Everybody was Kung Fu Fighting.”

That summer changed everything. One Friday evening, my siblings were out enjoying their social lives while my Freshman-soon-to-be-Sophomore ass was just hanging out at home with mom. She took me to Blockbuster video on the corner of Pershing Ave. and Robinhood Dr., right behind San Joaquin Delta College. There, I rented both Supercop and Jackie Chan’s Police Force, better known as Police Story. I watched both of them that evening. The next day, which was my personal clothes shopping day with my mom, we took the movies back. Low and behold, there was a copy of Jackie Chan’s Police Force (featuring the original international dub) on sale at Blockbuster for 10 bucks. Yoink! While buying clothes in Sacramento, my mom and I stopped by Barnes & Noble at Arden Fair Mall, where I picked up Jackie Chan: Inside the Dragon by Clyde Gentry III. There was no turning back at this point: I was now a Hong Kong cinephile.

The movie would be set about four years after the events of Police Story II, although no mention is made of Kevin Chan (Jackie) saving Hong Kong from a bunch of mad bombers or bringing down a major drug dealer named Ku. The film opens with a bunch of high-level types from (presumably) Interpol and the Hong Kong police discussing Asia’s problems with drug smuggling, including anecdotes of carriers dying of overdoses while smuggling condoms filled with heroin in their stomachs. They discuss a “Supercop” initiative to have a Hong Kong cop collaborate with Mainland Chinese law enforcement to bring down one of the bigger drug dealers, a man named Chaibat (who’ll be played by The Replacement Killers’ Kenneth Tsang). For the record, this scene was cut from the American version, presumably to keep the pace breakneck.

Shortly afterward, Kevin Chan shows up at work to get his orders to patrol whatever park in Hong Kong his superiors think he’ll do the less damage at. It’s funny, Kevin Chan causes lots of property damage and he either gets demoted or some Mickey Mouse jobs in the most innocuous places. In the Lethal Weapon films, Briggs and Murtaugh do property damage and they get promoted to the rank of captain. Anyway, Chan overhears his Uncle Bill (Bill Tung, of the previous two Police Story films) arguing with Commissioner Chan (Phillip Chan, playing essentially the same sort of role he did in Bloodsport and Hard Boiled) about whether or not they should recommend Kevin for the Interpol assignment. This is intentional, so as to guarantee that Kevin’s mouth will be watered for some real police work, as opposed to patrolling some Podunk park somewhere in Hong Kong. The plan works, and soon Kevin is kissing his girlfriend, May (Maggie Cheung, of Project A 2 and Twin Dragons), goodbye and flying to China.

After meeting with the top brass of China’s military, Chan is introduced to his opposite number in China and (though he doesn’t know it yet) partner in the mission: Captain Yang Choo-Kheng[2]. That sly dog Kevin tries to put the moves on her, but her strict PRC discipline will allow none of that. In any case, their plan is to disguise Kevin as a local named Lin Fu Sheng (from Wuhan, no less) and have him assist a team of mercenaries in breaking one of Chaibat’s lieutenants, Panther (Yuen Wah of The Iceman Cometh and The Master), out of a prison labor camp. The plan is simple: while the mercenaries are rescuing Panther, Yang picks them off one by one with a sniper rifle while Kevin/Fu Sheng shows up at helps Panther. The two escape together and Kevin makes it into Panther’s good graces.

Panther has Kevin take him and his men to Yan Yu Village, where his alter-ego apparently hails from. There, they’ll lay low until it’s time to flee to Hong Kong. From a geographical point of view, this is interesting because Wuhan is located in the landlocked province of Hubei, in Central China. I’m guessing that they were somewhere in the Guangdong province, but for whatever reason, the people who made the English version just changed it some other random Chinese city. While at the village, which is apparently populated by undercover policemen, Kevin Chan/Fu Sheng meets his “family,” which includes his sister Hanna/Fan Hua (actually Captain Yang) and his mother (Uncle Bill in drag). There’s a funny bit where Kevin tells Panther that Hanna’s his wife, only for to show up and yell “Brother!”, making them look like inbred hicks.

While eating out that evening, some policemen who aren’t aware of the Interpol mission try to arrest Panther and his men, only for Yang to step in and beat the shit out of everyone. She also pretends to kill another policeman (who does know what’s going on), which is enough to win Panther’s trust—he takes her along with him so she won’t get executed for murder. Panther takes both Kevin and Yang to Hong Kong to meet Chaibat. From there, the mission will take the two from Hong Kong to the jungles of Thailand and from there, to the streets of Kuala Lampur, Malaysia.

Supercop is a pretty good example of the sway that Jackie Chan held over the Hong Kong and Pan-Asian film industry in the 1990s. After Armour of God 2: Operation Condor went way over budget and became the most expensive HK film up to that point, Golden Harvest wanted Chan to tone it down for the next few films. I’m guessing while a second Police Story sequel would have cost some money to make, it was expected that it would at least be a local production. That was probably the case, until stuntman-turned-choreographer-turned-director Stanley Tong got on board. With Tong’s Western filmmaking sensibilities and penchant for large-scale stunts, Supercop quickly became an international effort with scenes filmed on location in four different countries, with some of Jackie’s biggest stunts yet. Tong’s previous effort had been Stone Age Warriors, an action-adventure film set in New Guinea which put its lead actresses, Nina Li Chi and Elaine Lui, through the hell of falling down waterfalls, being attacked by Komodo dragons and being covered in scorpions. Although Chan has notoriously had problems in working with other directors, in Tong he found a kindred spirit: both men were downright insane.

In Clyde Gentry’s Jackie Chan: Inside the Dragon, the author comments that Supercop was mainly Tong’s child. As a result, the fighting itself is toned down—unlike the first two movies, there is no all-time classic set piece in this one—while the stuntwork is ratched up past 11. The international settings also give this film a James Bondian film, which influence would be further felt in the subsequent Police Story IV: First Strike. Supercop would also become known as the first Hong Kong film to be filmed in synch sound in decades: because of the Hong Kong and Taiwanese markets, filmmakers often found it easier film movies silently and the dub them into Cantonese or Mandarin for whatever market the film was being released in. Supercop was filmed in Cantonese (for the Hong Kong scenes), Mandarin (for the Mainland China scenes), and Malay/English for the scenes in Kuala Lampur.

Completing the trifecta of crazy action people is Michelle Yeoh, who had just gotten out of retirement after her failed marriage to movie producer Dickson Poon. Yeoh had met Stanley Tong on the set of her pre-marriage swan song, The Magnificent Warriors, when the latter was still cutting his teeth as a stuntman. The two apparently became good friends on set, so when the news came out that she was looking to get back into the business, Tong cast her in the role as the tough-as-nails Captain Yang. Yeoh has stated in interviews—see Top Fighter 2: Deadly China Dolls—that she likes the more physical action as opposed to the more flowery wire-fu of movies like Butterfly and Sword. In the end, she actually steals the show in terms of the fight scenes and performs two awesome stunts during the climax.

The action was choreographed by Stanley Tong and his crew. They were nominated for Best Action Choreography at the Hong Kong Film Awards the following year, but lost to Yuen Woo-Ping for Once Upon a Time in China 2. The fighting itself is well staged, but the fights are very short and to the point. There are a handful of them, however, which include Chan in a demonstration with a Mainland instructor (Sam Wong), some tussles with prison guards and local policemen, a short scuffle with Chaibat’s men, and a few moments of fisticuffs against the Malaysian authorities. The Thailand sequence is mainly gunplay and explosions, inspired more by 80s right-wing action movies (like Rambo: First Blood Part 2 and Predator) than Hong Kong cinema.

The finale in an unforgettable mix of fighting prowess and bonkers stuntwork. After Chan and Yeoh beat up the local authorities, Yeoh finds herself atop a moving van while Chan following behind in a sports car. Chaibat and his men are following both vehicles in a helicopter, blowing up all the cars around them with a grenade launcher. Yeoh ultimately falls off a moving van and onto the hood of Chan’s car, which stunt did not work out the first time. Yeah, ouch. Then you get to the part where Chan hangs onto the ladder of a helicopter as it flies all over the city while Michelle Yeoh follows it on a motorcycle. She finally rides the motorcycle onto a moving train, where she and Chan face off with Chaibat’s bodyguards, played by Ken Low and Ailen Sit.

From a pure stuntwork point of view, Supercop is tops. Even Quentin Taratino agrees, putting this film on his top movies list on account of the stunts[3]. Fans of pure martial arts may be a little disappointed with the shorter fights, especially during the finale atop the train. Knowing just how good a martial artist Ken Low is, we wish that Tong would have let him unleash his kicking prowess in an extended demonstration against Chan, but that wasn’t his style. Moreover, by 1992, Yuen Wah had long demonstrated that he could be a badass given the opportunity: just watch his work in Eastern Condors and The Iceman Cometh. His character Panther barely fights and Yuen’s physical skills are wasted in this film. The same goes for blonde badass Kim Maree Penn (The Death Games and City of Darkness), who shows up in the Thailand sequence but doesn't get to throw down with Michelle. I’m sure that some people who were introduced to Chan through Rumble in the Bronx and loved the fight scenes there might have been disappointed with the slightly more “Westernized” action here. But if you come in with the right expectations, Supercop is a hoot and half and fun ride all around.

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[1] -The HKMDB entry for this film lists them as: Dang Tak-Wing, Ailen Sit Chun-Wai, Chan Man-Ching, Sam Wong Ming-Sing, Mak Wai-Cheung, Ho Hon-Chau. The HKFA page for the 12^th annual Hong Kong Film Awards lists the names for this film’s Best Action Choreography nomination as Stanley Tong, Dang Tak-Wing, (Ailen) Sit Chun-Wai, Chan Man-Ching and (Sam) Wong Ming-Sing.

[2] - This is actually kinda funny from a linguistic point of view. According to the HKMDB, Michelle’s character is name Yang Chien-Hua. However, in the American dub, she identifies herself to the authorities in one scene as Yang Choo-Kheng. Choo-Kheng is actually Michelle Yeoh’s Chinese name, albeit in the Hokkien language—Yeoh Choo-Kheng. “Yang” in the Mandarin pronunciation of the character 楊, which is pronounced “Yeoh” in Hokkien. Thus, the character’s name in the American dub is a mixture of both Mandarin and Hokkien words.

[3] - https://www.indiewire.com/gallery/quentin-tarantino-favorite-movies/

The Grand Tournament by Michael Lauck

 The Grand Tournament by Michael Lauck

Set in a fantasy world modeled off of China--with characteristics that remind me of both the Ming and Qing Dynasties, but probably just an amalgamation of several--the book tells the story of Hong Yue, a martial artist and employee of the Wang Yue Escort Company. When I say "escort," I'm referring to the service in which a bunch of martial artists and mercenaries would accompany people or shipments of goods from end of the empire to the other. Hong Yue has arrived in the capitol for the Grand Tournament, which he intends on participating in to restore the good name of the Wang Yue company. Accompanied by his aged confident, Li, and making friends with a number of people present--both in the contest and at the court, Hong Yue will have to prove himself the best over thousands of the land's greatest fighters. But there are some who would not let him win...

For anyone who grew up on films like Bloodsport; Master of the Flying Guillotine; Five Fingers of Death; and Enter the Dragon; The Grand Tournament is sure to quench your thirst for multiple martial arts showdowns featuring dozens of styles, weapons and techniques. Lauck tends to the fight scenes with a varying degree of detail, sometimes opting for a more generalized description of the move, and sometimes a more complex prose-based choreography. There are A LOT of fight scenes, so be prepared. This book is for genre fans.

Thankfully, when the characters aren't beating each other to a pulp, many of them are quite likable. The main entourage--Hong Yue, Li and a not-Greek fighter named Red Lion--are very charismatic and fun to spend time with. Joining them are a number of strong female characters: Granny Sui, the head maid; the Masked Beauty, owner of a rival escort service who knows about Hong Yue's past; and most importantly, Hummingbird, a beautiful young lady who works at the palace and harbors a secret or two. Reading the characters interact with each other was arguably more enjoyable than some of the fight scenes.

Author Michael Lauck describes this as a wuxia-influenced fantasy. While that is true, he does keep most of the action grounded and realistic, unlike much modern wuxia films. The story is also bereft of much of the cynicism about the so-called "Martial World" that can be seen in the books (and films inspired by) written by the likes of Gu Long and Jin Yong. It is actually very upbeat. Probably too much so, as there are critical fights in which I didn't think the characters were in much danger. Perhaps if Lauck decides to write a sequel (or sequels), he'll up the stakes on the later stories.

Blackbelt (1992)

Blackbelt (1992)

 

Starring: Don Wilson, Deirdre Haj, Matthias Hues, Richard Beymer, Alan Blumenfeld, Jack Forcinito, Bob McFarland, Barbara A. Graham
Director: Charles Philip Moore
Action Director: Don “The Dragon” Wilson, Paul Maslak

 

Low-budget schlockmeister Roger Corman—who currently has 515 Producer credits on the IMDB and shows no sign of stopping despite being four years shy of 100--has never been one to pass up an opportunity to exploit some fad and make a quick dime off of whatever’s popular. Alien rip-offs, Poe movies (to cash in on the growing popularity of Hammer’s horror films), dinosaur films, barbarian flicks, sexy nurse movies, CGI-shark-a-thingie films…you name it, Corman has most likely produced a film about it. So, when martial arts movies really took off in the States during the late 80s and early 90s, thanks to the popularity of Jean-Claude Van Damme and Steven Seagal, it was only fitting that Corman would try to make some money off of that genre. While he worked with a number of actors, it would seem that his major martial man muse was Don “The Dragon” Wilson.

Blackbelt is one of the 14 movies that the two have collaborated on and...well…it was my first real Don “The Dragon” Wilson movie. Yes, you read that right. He was one of the Kings of the DTV Martial Arts films during the 1990s, and I’m only now watching something with his name on it (his cameo in Batman Forever doesn’t count). Actually, I once caught part of Bloodfist at my neighbor’s house many, many years ago. All I remember was Billy Blanks eating a fly and Don Wilson suddenly having to fight his master at the end, whom he kills in a rather brutal manner. I’ll have to revisit that movie one day.

The story is simple: Don plays a former cop turned martial arts instructor, Jack Dillon. The movie never explains to us why he left the Force, although he seemed to do it on good terms, because nobody actually cares about him doing cop business without a badge. Jack gets back in the game in order to protect an up-and-coming pop singer, Shanna (Dierdre Haj of Scanner Cop and Anna Nicole Smith’s Skyscraper) from a fanatical fan.

That fan is comparable to Maniac’s Frank Zitto, had he grown up to become a long-haired Aryan superman (Matthias Hues of I Come in Peace) instead of Joe Spinell or Elijah Wood. Johnny Sweet, as he’s called, is also a former Special Forces Op. who hangs out in a bar for other ex-operatives. In that case, he’s basically Frank Zitto by way of Gunner Hansen from The Expendables. In any case, this nutcase thinks that Shanna is the reincarnation of his mother, a lounge singer who had an incestuous relationship with Johnny during his formative years. I guess that will certainly turn a man into a hulking hooker killer.

Shanna’s problems aren’t limited to the giant Teutonic Oedipus, either. The outfit she’s currently signed to is a front for the mob, run by a sleazy character named Eddie D’Angelo (The Stripper’s Eddie Beymer) who’s getting more and more nervous at the pending expiration of Shanna’s contract. He thinks she’ll ditch him for greener pastures, and it’s never a good thing for a mobster to lose a cash cow…even in a legitimate business. Shanna also has an abusive d*ck of a boyfriend, Bobby (Demon Wind’s Jack Forcinito) that Dillon immediately takes a disliking to. In other words, Jack Dillon will have plenty of people to fight until the film is over.

Don Wilson was a born athlete. The son of an American man and a Japanese mother, he was a talented basketball and football player in high school, but also excelled at freestyle wrestling. While studying for his engineering degree, he trained in Goju-Ryu karate, later moving to a Chinese style known as Jim in Pai Lum, which is apparently a descendant of Shaolin boxing. He then entered the kickboxing circuit and won himself 11 titles over the course of 25 years, including one IFK title at age 45. Heck, Wilson was so confident in his abilities that he openly challenged Thai boxers, winning matches against three of them. As of today, Wilson has won 72 of the 82 matches he has fought in.

For this particularly production, Roger Corman pulled out all the stops—so to speak, it’s still a cheap production—and hired a bunch of a real-life martial arts champions to play Matthias Hues’s mercenary buddies. The opening credits even inform us what their tournament credentials are:

 

·        “Bad” Brad Hefton – ISKA Super Heavyweight World Kickboxing Champion

·        Mitch Borrow – Open Karate U.S. National Champion

·        Gerry Blank – WKA Super Heavyweight World Kickboxing Champion

·        Ian Jacklin – WKA Cruiserweight North American Kickboxing Champion

·        Ernest Simmons – K.I.C.K. Super Heavyweight World Kickboxing Champion

·        Tim Backer – IKA Shotokan Karate World Champion

·        Jim Graden – PKO Heavyweight World Kickboxing Champion

·        John Graden – WAKO World Championship Kickboxing Team

 

It is therefore a shame that Don Wilson is not a very good fight choreographer, nor are the people at Concorde Studios good cinematographers or editors. The fight scenes are extremely pedestrian: slow and ponderous in their staging, sloppy in their execution. The fights often feel like a demo video for self-defense techniques, as opposed to the choreographed-but-intense mayhem that you’ll see in most Asian films. The punches feel pulled and weak in spite of the sound effects. Some of the kicks are pretty good, but the “punching bag” choreography here feels even worse than that of a contemporary Van Damme film, which at least had decent editing. Heck, watch when Don Wilson unleashes his multiple-side-kicks-without-lowering-his-leg near the end, it’s shot in a way that almost looks like a parody of itself.

It’s a nice gimmick for Corman to get The Real Deal for a film like this, but to waste them all in lackluster fights is just…well, that: a waste. He should have foot the bill for a C-List Hong Kong (or Taiwanese) fight choreographer to stage and direct the action sequences. Yeah, Golden Harvest got Brandy Yuen and Lau Kar-Leung for the Ninja Turtles movies. Seasonal Films had Corey Yuen and Tony Leung Siu-Hung for their productions. I can’t imagine any of those guys’ going rates were all that high, and, even if they were, I’m sure that Filipino co-producer Cirio Santiago could have found some way to get Philip Ko Fei involved. Or somebody must have known somebody who knew Robin Shou. He could have given us something better than what we got.

There’s no way for me to sum up this review but to do so in the crudest way possible: when you cast nine or ten martial arts champs in your film and the best thing about the production is Dierdre Haj’s boobies, you have failed at making a martial arts film.

 

Trivia: Two years after this, director Charles Philip Moore (also of Demon Wind infamy) wrote and directed a remake of this movie called Angel of Destruction. It stars erotic thriller veteran/scream queen Maria Ford in the Don “The Dragon” Wilson role and is even sleazier than this movie was. In fact, the opening scene of that film is a shot-for-shot recreation of Blackbelt’s opening scene.

The Master (1989/1992)

The Master (1989/1992)
Aka: Wong Fei-Hung ‘92
Chinese Title: 黃飛鴻'92之龍行天下
Translation: Wong Fei-Hung ’92: Dragon Travels

 

Starring: Jet Li Lian-Jie, Yuen Wah, Crystal Kwok Gam-Yan, Jerry Trimble, Anne Ricketts, Ruben Gonzalez, Guy Fadallone, Derek Annunciation, To Wai-Wo, Mark Williams, Glen Chin Ying-Ming
Director: Tsui Hark
Action Director: Yuen Wah, Brandy Yuen

 

In my review of The Himalayan, I mentioned an aborted book project that I started back in 2006 to write a Portuguese-language book about the best fight scenes in Chinese—Hong Kong, Taiwan, and PRC—cinema. It would have been the first book published in Brazil about HK cinema. It did not go forward for certain reasons that probably wouldn’t be a problem today. One of the fights discussed was the finale to The Master. It was eventually removed from the final draft as the project progressed and other fights took its place. Here is a translated version of that chapter for your reading pleasure:

Synopsis: An “eeevil” martial arts school has kidnapped a young woman named Ana (Anne Ricketts, of Frank Stallone’s Lethal Games) and is using her as bait: the school’s master, Johnny (Jerry Trimble, of Live by the Fist), wants vengeance against a Chinese master (Yuen Wah, of Eastern Condors and The Iceman Cometh) for having rejected him as a student some time before. The master, Uncle Tak, is sent to a skyscraper to make a trade: his life for the girl’s. Accompanied by three Latino boys, Tak confronts the entire school. Although initially successful, the sheer number of opponents proves to be too much for Tak and he’s overpowered. Only through the intervention of Tak’s best student, Jet (Li), can Johnny and his school be defeated.

Comments: For a long time, The Master was considered the worst of all of Jet Li’s films—although these days, half-assed projects like Badges of Fury tend to take that distinction. In any case, people criticized everything about the movie: the plot (old school chopsockey tropes come across as silly in a modern setting), the dialog, the low production values, and even the fight scenes. To some extent the critics have a point, although we emphatically disagree with them when it comes to the action. To be perfectly honst, this has some of the best wushu demonstrations that Jet Li has even given, which is evident in the final fight.

The climax is divided into three parts: 1) Yuen Wah vs. Jerry Trimble’s students, 2) Jet Li vs. the students, and 3) Jet Li vs. Jerry Trimble. The first part of the fight establishes the tone of the fight choreography: simple movements and technique applications. Yuen Wah is attacked by individual fighters, followed by groups of four, and finally a group of ten. He responds with simple breaks, locks, knee-level kicks, and other simple moves. Once in a while he’ll do a more acrobatic kick—the man was Bruce Lee’s acrobatic double once—but most of his moves are the basics performed with confidence. Ultimately, he can’t deal with so many attackers and thus we move into part two.

Much like Yuen Wah, Jet Li starts off fighting with simpler moves: low kicks, dislocations, and simpler punches. After dispatching them, he has to face off with Trimble for the final one-on-one.

This third section is the longest part of the climax. Jet and Jerry start fighting atop the building. Jet uses his showier wushu—Northern Longfist—while Trimble puts his kickboxing skills (adapted from his tae kown do training) to good use. As the fight begins, it is clear that the men are evenly matched, with neither of them winning. Trimble gets in some good kicks, knocking Jet through a metal sheet and into a maintenance room inside the building. It’s here that the fighter, in the spirit of modern action movies of the time, start using the environment to their advantage. Valves, metal staircases, glass panes, metal bars and even gas pipes become obstacles to overcome for the combatants. By the time the fight is over, both men are hanging outside the building by electrical cords, trying to get in their final hits.

It would seem that all great Chinese martial arts actors have fought against at least one Caucasian—or at least American--martial arts champion. Bruce Lee had Chuck Norris. Jackie Chan took on Benny “the Jet” Urquidez (twice) and Bill “Superfoot” Wallace. Yuen Biao fought Peter “Sugarfoot” Cunningham. And Jet Li? It was 1986 World Kickboxing Champion Jerry Trimble. And the same way that Bruce’s and Jackie’s fights with Chuck and Benny (respectively) represented some of their best work, this fight represents some of Jet Li’s best fighting.

This set piece—including the Jet Li vs. many segment—is special for a few reasons. Firstly (and most importantly), Jet Li is simple amazing in it. His agility is at its peak. It is enchanting the way he contorts his body in numerous directions, even when his foot is caught in a valve. Later on, he would suffer accidents and injuries on set that would diminish this agility. Also, the choreography here is relatively “realistic” and gives us a good reason why he was named “Jet.” His attacks, blocks and kicks are incredibly fast. Watch him deliver multiple kicks with a single leg while his other foot is trapped. The flexibility on display is great.

The choreography is top drawer and seems to be based to some extent on Bruce Lee’s philosophy. The essency of Bruce’s choreography was to destroy the opponent with techniques that were fast, simple and strong. Along with Hitman (1998), War (2008), and Kiss of the Dragon (2001), this has the most realistic approach to fighting to be seen in a Jet Li film. For the most part, the philosophy of the fighting in the film is that if you get hit once, it’s probably over for you. You only need to take a few blows to be lying helpless on the ground. To this end, both Jet Li and Yuen Wah use a lot of chin na, or locks and breaks. In other words, you’ll get as much joint manipulation in this finale as you’d get in your average Steven Seagal film.

We shouldn’t forget Jerry Trimble. He’ll probably never become as well known as other Western fighters that showed up in Chinese movies, which is sad, as he is a good screenfighter. He parlayed his tae kwon do training into kickboxing and won both the  PKA and PKC world titles in 1986. After retiring from the ring in 1989, he started making action movies. He had a memorable fight with fellow tae kown do stylist Loren Avedon in King of the Kickboxers (1990), one of the best martial arts films made for American audiences. He also worked as a stuntman in bigger Hollywood films, like Charlie’s Angels (2000)—he fights Drew Barrymore while she’s tied to a chair; War of the Worlds (2005); and Mission Impossible 3 (2006). Unlike many other tae kwon do fighters, his onscreen style de-emphasizes flashy aerial kicks and focuses more on the basics, performed with speed and power.

After this movie, Jet Li would go to make his landmark hit, Once Upon a Time in China. That film’s success would put him on the road to becoming an international action star. It would also help usher in the “Wire-fu” Era of fight choreography. Jet Li, as the result of different injuries sustained during his movies, would show up in a lot of movies in which his own natural talent was obscured by the use of wires. The fact that his sequence—and the film as a whole—is largely free of wire enhancements makes it all the more special within the context of Jet Li’s career. There is one jump kick early on in the climax where it looks like Jet is able to hit four people in the air before his feet touch the ground.

As much as many hate this film, this fight sequence stands out as much in the film as it does in Jet Li’s career on the whole. With few exceptions, this fight would be one of the last true demonstrations of Jet Li’s wushu abilities, unhindered by special effects of any stype. And I’ll be honest: Jet Li with wires is already impressive. Jet Li without them is truly a wonder to behold.

American Samurai (1992)

American Samurai (1992)

 

Starring: David Bradley, Mark Dacascos, Valarie Trapp, Rex Ryon, John Fujioka, Douvi Cohen
Director: Sam Firstenberg
Action Director: Guy Norris, Douglas Milton

 

David Bradley’s career didn’t exactly “take off” after he took over for Michael Dudikoff in American Ninja 3: Blood Hunt.  Then again, maybe that was intentional on his part. Oh sure, he had a steady dream of gigs up until he retired from acting in 1997, but considering the output of over direct-to-video stars like Don “The Dragon” Wilson and Gary Daniels, who were starting up at about the same time, it kinda surprises me that Bradley wasn’t more prolific. American Samurai was Bradley’s fourth starring role after two American Ninja sequels and a forgotten erotic thriller called Lower Level.

The title is obviously a ploy to bring in the same audiences who gobbled up the American Ninja movies, albeit without the “We liked Dudikoff better” baggage attached to it. It was produced by Cannon Pictures, a distribution arm of MGM focused on low-budget movies. Such a movie was only appropriate, considering that the now-defunct Cannon Films had produced the American Ninja franchise. The resulting film, however, was less American Ninja and more Bloodsport. The film does little to separate itself from its inspiration, the exception being that this is one of the gorier American martial arts films of that time period. Apparently there is an NC-17 cut of the movie floating around out there.

An American couple and their baby, Andrew, are flying over Japan when they run into engine problems and crash into a mountainside forest. The couple dies, but baby Andrew is rescued by a kindly kenjutsu master (John Fujioka, of American Ninja) and taught the way of the samurai. As Andrew grows up, he is the subject of scorn by the master’s son, Kenjiro (Mark Dacascos, of Drive and John Wick 3), who resents the attention his father gives the gaijin. Things come to a head when an adult Andrew (Cyborg Cop’s David Bradley) receives the family katana as a symbol of his responsibility to carry on the Sanga family tradition. Kenjiro reveals to his father that he has joined the Yakuza and is promptly disowned by daddy.

Some years later (the movie just sort of jumps around without ever telling us how much time has passed), Andrew is now a top journalist living in Los Angeles. He survives an attempt on his life by a bunch of Hired Goons™ who make off with his sacred katana. A few months later, he uncovers evidence that Kenjiro might be pulling off hits in Istanbul, Turkey. He flies over there to investigate, accompanied by a plucky female photographer, Janet (Valarie Trapp). Andrew initially despises her, but they aren’t together for more than 24 hours before he’s bedding her. Every negative stereotype about women being attracted to condescending assholes is present in these early scenes.

After beating up some gangsters at a bar, Andrew is shanghaied by a Turkish crime boss (Douvi Cohen) and taken to the Arena of Death. This is an underground fight tournament where people duke it out, not too unlike Bloodsport’s kumite, but with bladed weapons instead of feet and fists. The reigning champion of the Arena is Kenjiro, and he’s eager to settle his past grievances with Drew. Meanwhile, Drew is goaded into fighting with the threat that the organizers will harm Janet if he doesn’t. Let the games begin!

So, Bloodsport With Swords American Samurai is obviously a far-from-original film. It even goes so far as to give Bradley’s Andrew Collins his own version of Jackson. That would be the burly, bearded Texan Harrison (Rex Ryon, of the other adaptation of The Man in the Iron Mask from 1998), whose specialty is with the Bowie knife. While watching this with a friend of mine, I had to ask out loud just how an overweight Texan could get invited to a clandestine fight competition in Turkey. With Bloodsport’s Jackson, you can imagine him participating in whatever was the 80s equivalent to the UFC—some sort of Rough-and-Tumble organization—and catching the attention of the organizers that way. In Harrison’s case…was he involved in underground knife-fighting in the States? My friend suggested that the guy had a series of VHS tapes (probably priced at about $39.95 a pop + shipping and handling) about how to skin a gator with a Bowie knife and that caught the attention of Arena of Death people.

The film features a rather odd assortment of contestants. One fellow wields a claymore and dresses as if he had just gotten back from auditions for a Deathstalker sequel. The guy is even billed as “Conan” and is played by stuntman Rocky McDonald, whose credits include Dark City and Mission Impossible II. There’s a blonde-haired Brit named McKinney (Ron Vreeken, who did fight choreography for Richard Norton’s Rage) who fights with a kwan do. One guy dresses in animal skins, wears a horned helmet, fights with a battle axe, and is referred to as The Swede. There are also a pair of Chinese fighters, one of whom sports a queue as if he were still living in the Qing Dynasty. A knife-wielding Texan and an American Samurai are probably the closest thing this tournament has to normal combatants.

The fighting was handled by veteran Hollywood stuntman Guy Norris, whose biggest recent jobs include both Suicide Squad films and Mad Max: Fury Road. A Milton Douglas, whom I am unfamiliar with (nor could I find anything about him on the IMDB, is credited as the film’s “Samurai Sword Instructor.” The fights vary wildly in length, quality and style. When McKinney takes on Conan, it feels like a failed attempt to mimic the sort of action you’d get in an 80s sword n’ sorcery movie. Some of Kenjiro’s fights feel more like a Japanese chambara film, with an emphasis on tension, economy of movement, and ending the fight in as few strokes as possible.

I’m guessing that when it came to the Asian guys, Norris just let them choreograph themselves. After all, the Chinese guy with the kwan do is played by none other than Dion Lam, who would later go onto Hollywood efforts like Spider-Man 2; Doom; and Street Fighter: The Legend of Chun Li. Lam was fairly early in his action directing career at this point, having helmed the fights in films like Shanghai, Shanghai and Revenge of Angel with Moon Lee. The guy with the queue, who wields the shuangdao (twin broadswords), is played by Anthony Szeto, who would later direct and choreograph WuShu: The Young Generation. It goes without saying that the fights between Phan Xu (Szeto) and Haing Yi (Lam), and Phan Xu and Kenjiro, are the best in the film. Those fights have flashy weapons demonstrations and more complex exchanges of attacks and blocks than you would expect from an American film of this vintage.

David Bradley, unfortunately, is overshadowed by his Asian colleagues. His opening fight with the hitmen at his apartment isn’t bad by American standards. He throws some nice kicks—he trained in both Shotokan Karate and Tae Kwon Do—and does a throw or two (he also had Aikido training). His fights at the Arena of Death, however, are less intense because his character is intent on not harming his opponents where possible. So it feels like he’s holding back with his sword skills, although he does get in some decent kicks. The movie really screws the pooch in the finale, which leads me to believe that the filmmakers ran out of money during filming and had to cobble the fight together with some posing from previous fights, plus scenes of swords hitting each other up close, without knowing with which character was swinging what.

Outside of the two fights in which two Chinese guys and a Filipino dude (with a Chinese martial arts background) show us how it’s done, there isn’t much of interest in American Samurai. David Bradley’s acting is still pretty stiff, although Mark Dacascos’s overacting—this was his first major role—makes Bradley look like a thespian. The story—such as it is—is full of holes and the phoned-in love subplot results in one of the unsexier love scenes I’ve seen in a movie like this. Add to that a frequently inappropriate and cheap Cassio keyboard soundtrack and you have one of the lesser straight-to-video martial arts films of the 1990s.

Once Upon a Time in China 2 (1992)

Once Upon a Time in China 2 (1992)
Chinese Title: 黃飛鴻之二男兒當自強
Translation: Wong Fei Hung 2: Man Should Depend on Himself

 

Starring: Jet Li, Rosamund Kwan, Max Mok Siu-Chung, Donnie Yen, David Chiang, Xiong Xin-Xin, Zhang Tie-Lin, Yen Shi-Kwan, Leung Yat-Ho, William Ho Ka-Kui, Paul Fonoroff, Mike Miller
Director: Tsui Hark
Action Director: Yuen Woo-Ping

Following the success of the first Once Upon a Time in China, Jet Li’s first order of business was to headline sequels to both that and another important period piece. The year 1992 saw Jet starring in both Once Upon a Time in China 2 and The Swordsman 2. The first Swordsman had come out two years before and would set the rules for wuxia pian for the rest of the decade. Complex wire-stunts, FX-oriented “qi” attacks, all-star casts, and convoluted storytelling defined this new brand of wuxia movie. Moreover, movies had to be based on a Jin Yong novel, previously adapted by the Shaw Brothers, or both. In the case of Swordsman II, both criteria applied—the material had been filmed as The Proud Youth in 1978. Casting Jet was a no-brainer, considering his newly acquired bankability and the fact that singer Sam Hui was not a martial artist.

Similarly, OUATIC had brought the kung fu period piece back to the spotlight after lying dormant for almost a decade (at least in Hong Kong[1]). OUATIC also set the rules for the genre for the next several years, which dictated that every kung fu movie be about a Chinese folk hero, star a wushu­-trained martial artist (or someone who could pass himself off for one), and would feature a significant amount of wires to “enhance” the fight scenes. As one might imagine, said parameters are a little limiting and this “New Wave” of kung fu films ran out of steam rather quickly.

Once Upon a Time in China 2 is fascinating in that it establishes that chronological time with regards to its main character is really the least of director Tsui Hark’s concerns. Indeed, these movies are very much “floating time” films, in which Jet Li’s Wong Fei-Hung is involved in various important moments of Chinese history without actually aging himself. Wong Fei-Hung feels more like a vessel through which Tsui and his writers, Hanson Chan (Swordsman II) and Charcoal Tan (The Blade of Fury and The Dragon Chronicles), could explore Chinese history and some of Tsui’s own pet themes. It’s not specifically stated when that film was set, although there mention of Chinese laborers working on the railroad. The Transcontinental Railroad was finished in 1869, at which time the real Wong Fei-Hung was 22 years old. A second railroad, the Canadian-Pacific Railway, was finished in 1885. Chinese laborers worked on both railroads, so for our purposes, we’ll assume the first movie took place in the early 1880s.

Once Upon a Time in China 2 takes place in 1895, which is established both in the opening credits and a brief scene in which we see student protestors decrying the cession of Taiwan to Japan via the Treaty of Shimonoseki. That actually doesn’t factor into the plot, although it does establish once again that China was in turmoil in the late 19^th century, which gave credence to the whole White Lotus Movement/Boxer movement, which our film does concern itself with. It also reminds us that for better or worse, the local populace tends to be indifferent to foreign policy when their own personal needs are not being met.

Wong Fei-Hung and his entourage—Aunt Yee and Leung Foon (now played by Max Mok)—have traveled from Foshan to Canton to attend a medical conference. Canton has become embroiled in a running conflict between the government and an anti-foreigner organization known as the White Lotus Cult. That the subtitles in my version frequently refer to them as “fighters,” or “Boxers,” suggests that the cult is a branch (or precursor) to the actual Boxer Movement, which rose up in open rebellion in 1899. Aunt Yee is immediately targeted by them because of her Western clothing and camera. In cases like this, having a kung fu folk hero by your side really helps.

At the conference, Wong meets the infamous Dr. Sun Yat-Sen (The Magic Crane’s Zhang Tie-Lin), the same man credited with overthrowing the Qing Dynasty and leading China into its Republic Era. The two hit if off, as the young folks say, despite their cultural differences—Dr. Sun specializes in Western medicine while Wong is openly derided by those damn gwailo doctors for using acupuncture and talking about meridians and sh*t. The conference is broken up by the arrival of a violent band of White Lotus cultists, who fill the place up with arrows. The situation worsens considerably when those same cultists commandeer a massacre at the local English school. Aunt Yee and Ah Foon take the surviving children to the English Consulate while Wong Fei-Hung asks the leader of the local garrison, Comander Lan (Donnie Yen), for help.

Unfortunately, Commander Lan’s limited resources have been stretched to their limit by the White Lotus Cult, especially now that they are targeting the local telegraph office. The Empress has enough problems in other parts of the country that she’s unwilling to send extra men to Canton. On top of things, Lan has discovered that a rebel movement is in the works and that Sun Yat-Sen is not only at the head of it, but is currently in Canton. More refugees pour into the British Consulate as the White Lotus attacks grow more brazen, but the tipping point will be when Commander Lan discovers that Sun Yat-Sen’s confidant, Luk (David Chiang), is hiding at the consulate…

Less-patient viewers may find themselves squirming in their seats for the first hour, as there are only two short fight scenes during that portion of the film. Tsui Hark and his writers focus instead on setting up the conflict and the characters, establishing the ruthlessness of the racist White Lotus Clan and the chain of events that transform the initially sympathetic Commander Lan into the film’s main villain. Once more, a late 19^th century Chinese city finds itself under siege from within, with the locals too worried about their own personal safety to get involved. This is personified by the character of the innkeeper (character actor William Ho, of Crystal Hunt and Lethal Panther). Following the opening kerfuffle with the White Lotus clan, the innkeeper asks Aunt Yee to wear Chinese clothes to avoid further conflict. He practically shoos Wong Fei-Hung out of the hotel after the conference, and then completely ignores the child survivors of the English school massacre.

In contrast to the first Once Upon a Time in China, the Caucasian characters are a lot more sympathetic this time around. Although initially xenophobic in their attitudes toward Chinese medicine, they ultimately give Wong Fei-Hung (and, by extension, Eastern methods) a chance to prove himself. There are no villainous characters like Mr. Jackson from the first OUATIC. On the same token, you get the feeling that the exploitive practices of people like Mr. Jackson paved the way for the White Lotus Cult in the first place. In that case, this movie is an appropriate sequel to the first movie. “You want come to our country to swindle us out of our life savings so we can perform slave labor for you? F*** you! We’ll kick your baak gwai asses out of here!”

Much like Legendary Weapons of China, the White Lotus Cult (and by extension, the Boxer Movement in general) is portrayed as being led by a bunch of charlatans, specically the High Priest Kung (Xiong Xin Xin). For all their kung fu knowledge, the cult leaders are unable to deliver on their promise to use folk magic to protect their members from foreign firearms. The first OUATIC brought this up at the climax when Iron Robe Yim[2] exclaims, “No matter how good our kung fu is, it will never defeat guns.” Just as the crooked Westerners in the first film gave rise to the White Lotus Cult in the second one, the defeat of straight kung fu by guns in OUATIC would logically be followed by the kung fu community trying to find a way around that. Unfortunately for many involved (and many more who weren’t involved), they settled on lies and phony magic rituals. Ultimately, what helps make Once Upon a Time in China 2 work so well is the organic flow of themes from the first film to this one.

What also makes the movie work is its expert fight choreography, supplied by the legendary Yuen Woo-Ping. Yuen’s brothers, Cheung-Yan and Shun-Yee, had served as action directors in the previous film, but this is Yuen Woo-Ping’s time to shine. His work deservedly earned him a Best Action Choreography win at the Hong Kong Film Awards, his first of six wins in that category at that particular awards show. Commenting on the action as a whole, Jonathan L. Bowen of Orbital Reviews observed:

 

"The fight scenes are absolutely amazing and rank among the all-time top fights ever filmed. In many good Hong Kong action movies, there are a few good fight scenes and one great final showdown. Once Upon A Time in China II has no less than five great fight scenes spread throughout the movie, meaning there is never a dull moment. Even a smaller wooden lance duel is awesome."

 

As expected for 1990s kung fu movie, there is a lot of wirework present, especially in the elaborate showdown with the White Lotus cult and Priest Kung himself. For these 1990s films, the imagination of the fights was often more important than the complexity of the fisticuff exchanges themselves, and so we get this crazy fight with Jet Li and Xiong Xin-Xin trying to knock each other off an altar made of stacked tables without following off themselves. It is treated like an actual plot point, with the infallibility of the religious official being challenged by an outsider, so the former has to do everything possible to keep up the ruse and not lose face before his followers. Hint: It doesn’t work. In his review of this film, Mark Pollard of the now-defunct Kung Fu Cinema website said, “Jet Li's table-stacked bout with [Xiong Xin Xin] is Wo Ping at his irreverently creative best.”

Those looking for more grounded kung fu will enjoy Jet Li’s staff duels with Donnie Yen a lot more. When the two first meet, Yen throws a staff at an unsuspecting Jet Li and the two just unleash their skills on each other for two whole minutes, with minimum wires or B.S. The Ultimate Jet Li Website, which was active in the early 2000s, posited:

 

"Jet and Donnie have two truely breathtaking battles during the movie. The first is a brief, but fast and furious engagement where the two use their skill and prowess with the shaolin lance to devastating effect. Believe me, this fight alone will have you touching back your VCR / DVD / VCD so many times, that short extracts will be permanently burnned into your long-term memory."

 

The finale is especially complex, broken up into three sections. Set in a market storehouse filled with bamboo scaffolding, Wong Fei-Hung keeps Commander Lan at bay as Leung Foon and Luk retrieve a rebel name list. Taking the high ground, Wong suspends himself on the scaffolding and attacks Lan with a long bamboo pole while Lan defends himself with a smaller staff. The claustrophobic setting of the fight brings to mind classic duels from films like The Martial Club and Return to the 36^th Chamber. The two then go at with two-fisted staves in a marvelous display of dexterity and accuracy. This brief part of the fight is one of my all-time favorite pole fights. Finally, we Wong Fei-Hung and Ah Foon trapped in a dead-end alleyway, Commander Lan switches to his signature weapon, a wet cloth that he uses as a deadly lash. Yuen Woo-Ping had already done something like this is Shaolin Drunkard, but he takes it to the nth level here.

Some reviewers have pointed this out as one of the greatest fight sequences of all time. When John Richards of the now-defunct Wasted Life did his Top 100 Fight Scenes in 2006, he placed this one at #31. Wrote he, “The close confines and multi-levels of a store room provide for some ingenious prop-use in this fantastic pole fight; a cornerstone for Jet's career and a firm fan favourite that influenced the decision to have a 'Jet vs Donnie' fight in Hero.” Similar opinions include:

Mark Pollard (Kung Fu Cinema) – “While all of the other films had great choreographers and memorable scenes, OUATIC II gels better than the rest and the impressive skills of Jet Li and Donnie Yen clashing is magnificent to behold. Yen's towel tossing scene is one of the greatest fights in film history…”

Kozo (LoveHKFilm) – "Yuen Woo-Ping's excellent choreography won a Hong Kong Film award, and the knock-down battle between Jet Li and Donnie Yen ranks as one of Hong Kong Cinema's absolute best."

Stanley (The Jet Lee [Li] Homepage) – “The final battle between two of the best martial arts actors in Hong Kong was one of the most spectacular action scenes ever made.”

In the end, when you combine these moments of action brilliance with a strong story, a logical development of the previous film’s themes, a solid musical score[3], expert cinematography, great costume design, and some good art direction and you have one of the classic martial arts movies of the 1990s: one of the best that the wire-fu boom had to offer.

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[1] - The Shaw Brothers kept on producing kung fu movies until 1985, but few (if any) of them were actually successful. Taiwan and South Korea also kept making them, possibly with more success in non-HK markets. The People’s Republic of China kept making wushu movies in the vein of Shaolin Temple until the end of the 1980s.

[2] - Yen Shi-Kwan, who played Iron Robe Yim, also shows up briefly in OUATIC 2 as Donnie Yen’s superior.

[3] - The film’s soundtrack had an alternate version of the opening credits song “Naam Yi Dong Ji Keung” with a rock-inspired orchestration, sung by none other than Jackie Chan.