I also love films by Shaw Brothers’ million dollar auteur
Chang Cheh. Chang rose to prominence with the 1966 film One-Armed Swordsman,
which not only tapped into the generational malaise afflicting Hong Kong youth
at the time, but revolutionized Hong Kong’s
approach to the wuxia genre, then dominated by Cantonese film makers and
teenage starlets, with its combination of heavily masculine themes and imagery.
Its cinematographic style was so heavily imitated that the only competition it
has for the most influential martial arts film of all time is King Hu’s Come
Drink with Me.
And aside from being an epochal genre film, it’s also plain fun to watch, and
has aged better than many other films of its vintage.
Chang went through various stages in his film-making career.
He started as a critic and writer; experimented as a co-director and crafted a
legendary lost film, Tiger Boy, before moving on to making the most profitable
film in Shaw Brothers’ New Wuxia Century wave of Mandarin language wuxia films
in the 1960’s; he worked extensively with David Chiang and Ti Lung in wuxia,
kung fu, and historical spectacles before settling into a niche of manic kung
fu films utilizing the talents of Taiwanese born Peking Opera stars Phillip
Kwok, Lu Feng, and Chiang Sheng. I could go on about Chang’s accomplishments
during each of these periods for several more paragraphs.
But towards the end of his career, Chang was no longer the
same creative force as he was when he made One Armed Swordsman. His final Shaw
Brothers film, The Weird Man, was neither well received critically, nor
profitable. It’s so utterly farcical in some portions that the mind wanders
from the film itself to contemplate the mental state of the man who made it.
After leaving Shaw Brothers, Chang made three films in Taiwan, using
many of the actors from his latter period at Shaw Brothers. These five films
not only used some of the same actors, but Chiang Sheng and Lu Feng – often the
action directors and assistant directors from his Shaw Brothers days – took
over many of the directorial duties for films like Nine Demons and Attack ofthe Joyful Goddess.
Chang Cheh had always, if those who worked with him are to
be believed (and there’s no real reason to doubt them), been a fairly hands-off
director. By the mid-eighties, however, Chang’s eyesight was deteriorating. But
even so, I think at least two of Chang’s films from this era, Shanghai 13 and Attack of the Joyful Goddess,
are worth seeing.
After this brief excursion in Taiwanese film making, Chang
Cheh headed to the Mainland, where he continued to “direct” in the capacity
that he could. He found a stable of Peking Opera talent, dubbed by Western fans
as “the New Venoms,” and set about either remaking or retreading his old films
(Hidden Hero is a remake of Life Gamble; Ninja in Ancient China is like a remix
of both The Weird Man and Five Element Ninjas).
Chang Cheh’s Journey to the West is new territory for him,
although he was no stranger to fantasy films tinged with Operatic visual cues. It
certainly takes the same tack as other low budget, low ambition adaptations
though. The film covers the episode in which Princess Iron Fan attempts to
kidnap the Tang monk with the help of her step-son, Red Boy, only to be foiled
by Sun Wukong and company. In Chang’s film, the Bodhisattva Guan Yin sends her emissaries
(including Na Zha), to aid in the battle against Red Boy and his magic.
The film starts with a synopsis of the story thus far, with
the imprisonment of Monkey, his journey with Xuanzhang, the Tang monk, meeting
Pigsy and Sandy, etc. Then there are some hijinks with a demon who accosts the
travelling crew, followed by Monkey and company meeting with Princess Iron Fan.
She’s annoyed with Ox King, her husband, who has taken a second wife. After a
failed attempt at seducing Monkey (and a thorough rebuking of Pigsy, who is
happy to fill in for Monkey after he abjures Iron Fan’s advances), Princess
Iron Fan begins scheming to kidnap the monk.
But before that, Monkey and co. must help a small outpost
which is besieged by demons pretending to be the Emperor, who has raised taxes
to an unreasonable rate. This is where the film indulges in the long tradition
of having Monkey disguise himself as various other characters with his magic,
although none of the actors portray unique enough personalities make this fun,
and only the inevitable jump cut between one actor and the other gives away the
game.
It’s also where two supporting characters are introduced,
who are in love and betrothed. One of them will later be killed by Princess
Iron Fan, and the other never mentioned again.
Finally, the film meanders into the major fight between the
Red Boy and the heroes. Monkey, Sandy, Ne Zha, and two other characters whose
names I can’t remember (if they were ever mentioned) have it out in a ten
minute brawl with Red Boy and his demonic cohorts. We get to see Monkey use his
magical hair, which turns into monkey fighters, along with a bevy of
pyrotechnics, poorly done wire work, and some genuinely good fight
choreography.
Although credited to Chang, much of the direction was likely
on the shoulders of Dung Chi-Wa, Du Yu-Ming, and Mu Li-Xin, who also handled
action direction and play Monkey, Sandy,
and Red Boy, respectively. The camera work occasionally resembles Chang Cheh’s
better films from Shaw Brothers, utilizing slow motion and overhead angles when
large crowds fight in formation, but very often looks utterly awful with people
flitting in and out of frame, or the frame being too close to capture all of
the movements during one-on-one fight scenes. Lighting equipment makes a split
second cameo in one shot.
So it isn’t the best looking film. Locations are re-used;
there is little visual continuity – how exactly can the heroes journey through
a desert and somehow come across the same leafy outpost time and again? But it
does have nice fight choreography. And the finale threatens to wander into Yuen
Clan territory with fighters on rocket propelled roller skates and bladed,
flame throwing go-carts.
There’s also some of Chang Cheh’s trademark gore on display,
including visible intestines.
This was the penultimate film of Chang’s career, with the
much better Ninja in Ancient China premiering two years later in 1993. In some
ways, it’s a shame to see the once brilliant creative force stamping his name on
such a lacking product. At the same time, you almost have to respect Chang for
cranking out a movie when he was nearly blind. A lot is made of the sexual
politics and sanguine aspects of Chang Cheh’s films, but the man loved making
movies – he made them as long as he could. That’s pretty awesome, even if most
of the later films are not, or are for unintended reasons.
And that finale is worth seeing at least once, if only to
get a glimpse of Dung Chi-Wa in action before Stephen Chow rediscovered him and
cast him as the spear wielding master in Kung Fu Hustle.