The Top 30, or so, Martial Arts films...

[D_Davis]

The Blade of Fury (1993) - Dir. Sammo Hung



Within the walls of a small, remote, rundown village hides a once-great warrior, a man who has turned his back on the Jiang Hu after witnessing the death of his entire force, the legendary Black Flag gang, at the hands of Japanese invaders. Now living the life of a blacksmith, Wang Wu (Yeung Fan) wants nothing more of the martial world. However, he is quickly drawn back into the fray when a group of blood-thirsty bandits ambush a government convoy in the dusty, barren streets of his village. Also lending a hand in the battle are two wandering scholars and martial arts masters, Tan Szu-tung (played by the great Ti Lung), and Nine Catties (played by Cynthia Khan). These three martial heroes align themselves with Shi-kai, a well-intentioned government official, and embark on an epic and heroic journey.



The Blade of Fury is Sammo Hung's brilliant entry into the new school wuxia sub-genre. It is simply a gorgeous film that deals with complex characters displaying authentic emotions, as well as dozens of amazing and effective action sequences. Like Patrick Tam's The Sword, or Leone's Once Upon a Time in the West, one gets the feeling that this film is about the death of an era, and there are strong feelings of sadness, nostalgia, and mythology stirring in the air. At its core, The Blade of Fury is an action packed allegorical examination of China, its people, its ideals, and the corruption of political power.

Wang Wu's martial mastery is introduced in an extraordinary action sequence. As the leader of the Black Flag gang, Wang Wu devises a plan to attack a Japanese encampment. However, things go totally wrong, and Wang Wu is left as the only surviving member of this legendary force. This sequence is executed with a violent and poetic beauty, and encompasses a common duality often found in HK action cinema. Because of the film's wuxia roots, the warriors jump and fly around like sword-wielding superheros, and the cinematography conveys feelings of high-fantasy. However, the very real, and somewhat brutal, violence anchors the flights of fancy to a somewhat harsh and gritty reality. Heads are lopped off and kicked like soccer balls, limbs are divorced from their bodies, and the flashes of steal, cleave, chop, and pierce the blue-tinted night. From this struggle, we see that Wang Wu represents the common people, a people left with only two options: violent confrontation, or surrender.



Tan Szu-tung and Shi-kai form the other two sides of this heroic/political triangle. Both of these characters are introduced in the aforementioned village-ambush sequence, and both of these men are great warriors and idealists, although they don't often see eye-to-eye. Szu-tung is a political reformist, a scholar, and a great warrior, and does not like to use violence as an option. He uses his great martial skill to aide those in need, but abhors killing. Shi-kai is also a good man, although his loyalty is entangled with that of a corrupt government. These two characters often spar, verbally, as they expound upon their own ideas for positive reformation. They also know how to throw down, and in a torrent of high-flying kicks, fists, elbows, swords, and projectiles, these two heroes are a force to be taken extremely seriously. It is always easier if one can enforce radical ideas with physical prowess, the ability to appear strong and righteous is needed to lead a down-and-out people into better times.



That Sammo Hung hangs his action-packed wuxia narrative around the frame of political and social idealism is a stroke of genius, and lends the film a strong feeling of importance. Every brutal, violent, and well-choreographed action sequence is balanced by a moment of tranquil beauty, or philosophical pondering. There are two sequences that perfectly exemplify the film's thematic duality. This first is the martial arts tournament that Wang Wu is conned into joining, thus setting in motion a series of brutal conflicts. Wang Wu steps into the ring while trying to protect a fighter from the vicious onslaught of a ruling warlord's bratty son. The warlord is insulted, and thusly challenges Wang Wu to a fight. This action sequence is nothing less than extraordinary, as the two mature warriors fight atop the face of a giant kettle-drum, onto some umbrellas set up to shade the audience, and back again.

This sequence is balanced by one of extreme beauty and tranquility. While coming to terms with his reintroduction to the Jiang Hu, Wang Wu stumbles upon a beautiful and mysterious lute-playing woman (Rosamund Kwan). The woman recognizes Wang Wu's inner turmoil and tells him that “a sensible man will be full of sorrow for his country.” The two converse for a short period of time, reflecting upon their sorrow and their personal convictions, before Wang Wu insists upon hearing a song, and reflects in mature silence while listening. This short but tranquil scene is expertly crafted by Sammo Hung, and the way he is able to capture both high-tension action, and quiet drama is a testament to his skills as a director.



The '90s were simply overflowing with high-flying wuxia films. This decade represents a second golden age of martial arts cinema, and there are many fine examples to be found. However, , as an example of pure cinema, The Blade of Fury stands among the very best. It is a film to admired for its great action, complex characters, and sweeping, epic narrative. After seeing this film, it is of little wonder that Wong Kar Wai would enlist Sammo for his own epic wuxia, Ashes of Time, however, that film pales in comparison to this new school classic. The Blade of Fury represents genre cinema at its finest, and is a showcase for a director and an industry full of creative verve and cinematic elegance.

[D_Davis]

Here is a very special film...

Again, I hate being limited on the screencaps, but oh well...

Shaolin Intuders (1983) - Dir. Tong Gaai

There's corruption in the Shaolin Temple. From the top on down, the temple has been infested with conniving rats, hellbent on the destruction of the Jiang Hu. One of the head abbots is in cahoots with the surviving members of the 6 Demons of Gaundong (an evil group of outlaws who use to terrorize the land), and together they are killing off the province's renowned martial arts masters one-by-one. It's up to two ragtag heroes, Lei Xun, the wanderer, and Qiao Yidou, the gambler, to reveal the treacherous secrets of the Shaolin Intruders.

In many ways, Tong Gaai's mind-blowing, frantically-paced, martial arts masterpiece can be seen as a metatextual commentary on the end of an era. Made in 1983, while the Shaw Brothers were beginning to turn their backs on cinema and focus on television, Shaolin Intruders is a more cynical examination of the legendary martial arts haven, and depicts the once-heroic monks as less than righteous. Their ways have been corrupted by greed, and their once pure motives suffer the taint of their impure leaders. Like all institutions, even the Shaolin Temple must face becoming obsolete and outmoded.

In Tong's film, it is not the monks who are heroic, or chivalrous. Tong's heroes are the outsiders, two men who can see through the facade of deceit surrounding the once upstanding institution. I don't mean to make this film sound more high concept than it is, however it is interesting to examine this insane action flick in a light that reveals more than just a ton of awesome action. Not that it needs anything more mind you, because when a film is this exciting, entertaining, and jaw-dropping, anything extra is just an added bonus.



One thing comes to the mind of kung fu fans when they hear or see the name Tong Gaai, and that's top-notch, A-class choreography. Shaolin Intruders stands as the pinnacle of Tong's career, and only further exemplifies the audacity of Tang's anonymity outside of the hardcore audience. Tong, an honorary member of the Yuen Clan (Yuen Woo Ping, Yuen Wah), was introduced to kung fu choreography on the sets of the Wong Fei Hong series which began in the 1940s. He started working for the Shaw Brothers in the early 1960s, and along with partner Lau Kar Leung, he co-choreographed just about every major martial arts film the studio made throughout the 1970s and into the '80s. However, he only ever directed three films, and this is, by far, his most amazing work in any capacity.

The bulk of Shaolin Intruders is taken up by three trials the heroes must endure to win the Shaolin's respect. After Lei and Qiao discover the dirty deeds of the corrupt monks, they go to the temple and accuse them of this treachery. Needless to say, the accusation doesn't sit well with the abbots (who are not all evil), and so they challenge the heroes to a series of tests; if they pass, the heroes can continue their investigation.

The first trial features Qiao, fighting the Shaolin spear-men in the Spring and Autumn formation. His goal is to reach the rear of a room while the spear-men thwart his progress at each and every step. The fight transcends astonishment, as the combatants traverse up and down pillars, fight across the ceiling, and even wind up using an entire rack of spears as the ultimate weapon. However, when Qiao busts out his secret weapon, a set of large, explosive dice attached to a whip, the monks find themselves at the mercy of a weapon they can't even comprehend.

The second test finds Lei doing battle with the Twelve Jingang formation. This sequence is irrevocably one of the greatest action set pieces ever filmed. The Twelve Jingang formation consists of twelve monks, each armed with a copper-plated staff. The monks form various shapes and stances, including a human wall and a deadly enclosed circle, while trying to keep Lei from reaching the end of a long, sand-dusted hall. However, as if twelve badass monks with copper staffs isn't cool enough, Tong Gaai takes the fight straight through the stratosphere and blasts it off into the reaches of astronomically-awesome.



At one point, when it looks as if the monks are about to lose, they reveal their secret weapons: the staffs separate and become three-sectioned staffs, undeniably the coolest weapons ever.From here on out, it is pure martial mayhem, as the twelve monks try ,with all of their might, to keep Lei from reaching his goal. This sequence looks incredibly dangerous, and maintains a sense of barely-controlled chaos for minutes on end.



However, if you think those two tests sound cool, and they most definitely are, just wait until you see the third, final, and most awesome test. This test pits the two heroes against one, old, gray-haired, feeble-looking elder. But as we all know, the more feeble-looking the martial arts master is, the harder he's going to kick your ass. This test is simply too amazing to describe, and so I will let a series of screenshots do the talking:



And then, on to the final showdown with the evil abbot!



Here's the thing about Shaolin Intruders: there is nothing minor about it. Every fight is huge, and every action set piece is a masterpiece. You could rip any of the action sequences from any point in this film, splice it into the climax of another, and have a show-stopping, masterclass action sequence. Minute for minute, weapon for weapon, fist for fist, and leg for leg, Shaolin Intruders may be the most action packed film ever made. Even upon subsequent viewings I am always shocked. Shocked at just how much action there is, and at how amazing each conflict is presented and executed. But here's the thing: it never wears out its welcome, ever. It consistently pushes the boundaries of kung fu cinema at each and every turn, and remains thoroughly enjoyable from beginning to end. To put it simply, Shaolin Intruders is a film that is so awesome, I wouldn't be surprised if I woke up to find it nothing but a dream.

[D_Davis]

The Odd Couple (1979) - Dir. Lau Kar Wing



What do you get when you take a double-dose of Sammo Hung, mixed together with a double-dose of Lau Kar Wing (sibilng of the great Lau Kar Leung), a dash of Lee Hoi-Song, and a hearty pinch of Jackie Chan and Yuen Biao working behind the scenes as fight choreographers and as stunt doubles? Well, besides being a mid-school kung fu fan's ultimate dream-come-true, what you get is simply one of the greatest kung fu-comedies of all time: The Odd Couple. If you have never seen the insta-classic, let me cut through the crap and say one thing: go now, buy the DVD, watch it, and love it - that's all there is to it. This could be the shortest review yet on the Top 100, because, honestly, that's all that really needs to be said.



What's that, you want some more? Well you see, it's like this: Sammo Hung plays the King of Swords, and Lau Kar Wing, his on-screen rival, is the King of Spears. I'll let you figure out which weapons each one of them specializes in. Once every year, these two masters meet for a duel to test which of their techniques is the best - needless to say, every single one of these duels ends in a draw. They are just too perfectly matched, and, of course, utterly stubborn; they will not rest until a victor is determined. Unfortunately, no matter how good their kung fu is, and it is remarkable, the King of Swords and the King of Spears must succumb to the ultimate of all rivals, old age.



To remedy the threat of old age, the two masters devise a great plan: they decide to each recruit and train a student to continue their martial arts tradition. And it is here that the genius of the narrative kicks you upside the face. Sammo Hung and Lau Kar Wing also play the students, only their roles are reversed. So, now we get to see Sammo Hung train Lau Kar Wing in the sword technique, and Lau Kar Wing train Sammo Hung in the spear technique. How freaking cool is that? Even if the entire narrative focused solely on the training of the two students and their ultimate clash, the film would still be an A-class example of the genre. However, in typical mid-school fashion, the filmmakers throw in a bevy of slapstick humor, wild shenanigans, and a ton of prime examples of what I like to call, kungfoolery.



The filmmakers from the mid-school era of Hong Kong cinema had their thumbs on the very pulse of pure entertainment. With The Odd Couple, it's as if Hung and Wing scientifically extracted the very essence of every moment that defines an awesome genre flick. There are enough action set pieces to satisfy even the most jaded kung fu fan, and the martial arts on display during the many kung fu sequences is astonishing - jaw dropping even. What's more, the film also contains enough quirky moments and characters, and bizarre situations, to entertain those who may not be enamored with the physicality of the genre. The humor in The Odd Couple is broad, and yet still dang funny, while the dramatic tension is tangible. The narrative is paced to perfection, rarely does a dull moment go by, and even while the film shovels on a ton of crazy stuff at the screen, it is still a cohesive experience.



There is no question as to why the films from this era are often the launching point for many a Hong Kong film fan's adoration, and The Odd Couple is at the apex of this era. It doesn't happen very often, but when all of the elements involved in crafting a genre film come together in perfect unison, it is a very special thing to witness. All too often, we are left saying, “If only that was left out!” or, “If only they had done that!” Well, such is not the case with The Odd Couple. Everything rings true, and every moment hits its mark like an expertly thrown shuriken. I am so thankful to have seen this film, and now I can join in with the masses who have already declared it a martial arts masterpiece.

[D_Davis]

I forgot about this thread.

Not too many comments, but if you all were enjoying reading it, I'll continue...


Martial Arts of Shaolin (1985) - Dir: Lau Kar Leung

Martial Arts of Shoalin is a love letter straight from the heart of master-director Lau Kar Leung to his endearing fans, and to fans of cinema in general. It is a grand tale of revenge, including real kung fu and wushu experts, and just so happens to star a very young, and incredibly fast, Jet Li. This film is also historic in many ways, for it was the only Shaw Brothers film to feature Jet Li, and it was also the only Hong Kong/Mainland co-production directed by Lau Kar Leung that I am aware of. The cross-cultural production opened up new realms of possibilities for the director, as he was able to take his vision out of the Shaw Brothers back lot and onto real locations including the Imperial city and the Great Wall of China.

The film is often compared to the large golden-age Hollywood musical productions, a comparison that is readily apparent. Martial of Arts of Shaolin has an incredibly large cast of hundreds of extras, and it includes an extensive musical sequence involving lion dancing and Peking opera. On the action front, it consists of massive large-scale kung fu battles, as well as smaller more intimate combative challenges between determined opponents. Throughout this all, the film maintains an overall light hearted tone, made all the more enjoyable by its upbeat musical score and endearing cast of characters. The film feels huge, massive even, much larger than any of the director's previous work, and yet his unique vision of martial chivalry is never lost in the exuberant production. On the contrary, the director's vision is heightened by the upscale nature of the film.



Historically, the narrative exists before the burning of the Shaolin temple, but during a time of great political and social unrest. This film fits within the Shaolin cycle not so much for its narrative, but for its themes, and how it focuses on a duality inherent to the Buddhist way of life. Buddhists, in general, abhor the killing of any living creature, but as this film proves, sometimes certain things must die in order for more to live. The monks in the film learn that by upholding justice, a tenant important to the Shaolin, they must at the same time destroy an evil man so that the righteous may survive - they must kill for others to live, a simple yet confounding prospect.



This theme is first demonstrated on a personal level through Jet Li's character, Zhi Ming, a novice monk. While practicing his lightning quick punches against a tree, he inadvertently knocks down a bird’s nest containing a handful of baby chicks. He vows to care for the chicks, but soon realizes that in order to feed them he must in turn kill another life – a worm. Insert some quick comedy relief, and soon an elder monk finds himself in care of the little birds, and he too ponders this Buddhist quandary. This theme is then transposed to the film’s central plot of revenge, and the role the virtuous and righteous monks must play in the secular world. Lord He Sou, an evil ruler, has taken control of the imperial city. We soon learn that Zhi Ming has been wronged by Lord He Sou whose evil ways have plagued the land. Ming and the other monks must come to terms with what justice really means, and learn that sometimes evil must be destroyed in order for righteousness to prevail.



The beautiful setting that creates a sense of grandeur often lacking from other Shaw Brothers productions, augments the relatively basic and cliché revenge narrative. The picturesque locations and wide-angle shots really help to create an epic atmosphere, and the huge cast of extras goes a long way in making the film feel really grand. What’s more, the personal conflict the other monks face anchors the epic feel and affords the viewer some empathy for the dire situations. The filmmakers do a wonderful job at striking a fine balance between a personal story and an epic production, as the central story is never lost in a sea of pretty pictures or faces.



However, when it comes to a Lau Kar Leung and Jet Li film, we all know what we want to see: some tightly choreographed action, and this film never fails to deliver. It must be said though, that Yue Sing-wai who plays the Lord He Sou, may in fact upstage Jet Li. Sing-wai was a master-class swordsman and so, like Li, he possesses real skill. His performance in the amazing mainland swordplay film Yellow River Fighter is a testament to this fact, and the jaw dropping last duel with Li in this film is equally as impressive. Lord He Sou wields a thin bladed sword, that must be close to, if not over, five feet long, against Zhi Ming and his two combatant comrades: the fighting female Sima Yin, and her husband to be, Chao Wei.

During the last sequence, an entire school of Shaolin fighting monks joins these three fighters of justice, and again the unique location allows Lau Kar Leung to expand his amazing choreography to a much larger scale. Without the confines of the Shaw Brother soundstage, he is able to craft battles involving dozens and dozens of combatants in huge melees across wide opened fields and rivers. He even showcases a show-stopping sequence on and off a large slow moving barge. Here, the action is filmed with wide angles and long panning/tracking shots that allow for great views of every move. And, with the inclusion of the Chinese National Wushu team, the fighting looks authentic and the moves are as fluid as one could wish for.



Like most of Lau Kar Leung’s work, Martial of Arts of Shaolin maintains a positive tone, even amidst the many action sequences: the film as a whole is just a joy to see and hear. At its core, the film has a lofty theme steeped in Buddhist and Shaolin philosophy, and yet it remains a purely fun and visceral ride throughout. As part of the Shaolin cycle, it adds to the legend of the monk’s teachings, and shows an important aspect of their self-imposed duty to uphold justice in a land in turmoil, even if this justice might compromise their own personal belief system.

[BookStop]

I second the wish for Drunken Master to get a spot. What about Zatoichi? The 2003 film is brilliant.

[D_Davis]

Like I said earlier, not a fan of too many Chan films.

I like Jackie Chan, I just don't like many of his films.

Many of the Zatoichi films are awesome, and Beat's 2003 film was really good, but it is not on my list.

[D_Davis]

The Magic Blade - Dir. Chu Yuan



After defeating Master Yu and becoming the number one swordsman in the underworld, Fu Hung-hsueh is told that wealth and power await him as the leader of the jiang hu. To this, Fu calmly states, “save it for those looking to die,” turns his back on the new found fame and glory, and walks away. Director Chu Yuan, the undisputed master of the wuxia pian, and the filmmaker to most fully grasp the themes of the great martial arts novelist Gu Long, directs The Magic Blade with a skilled hand, and delivers an accessible adaptation of Chinese genre literature. Everything on display is expertly crafted. The martial arts mystery which unfolds is captivating, punctuated with a bevy of hard-hitting action scenes, exotic set pieces, and a cast of characters ripped from a nightmarish world of assassins, double crossers, and ne'r do wells.

Wuxia pians are often typified by convoluted plots, unfolding like murder-mysteries, populated with dozens of outlandish characters, each with his or her own motive and agenda. The films based upon these narratives are often hard for the outsider, those not familiar with the source material, to comprehend, and can lead to rampant confusion and bewilderment. Chu Yuan possessed an uncanny ability to excavate the essence from these novels while keeping the plots intact, and was able to craft films that were more accessible than most. The Magic Blade is such a film, and can easily be enjoyed by the neophyte and wuxia pain veteran alike.



The plot itself is deceptively simple, and is only made murky because of information purposely withheld to heighten the mystery. The incredible and stoic Ti Lung plays the hero, Fu Hung-hsueh who is challenged to a duel by Yen Nan-fe, played by Shaw Brothers baddie Lo Lieh. The two quickly join forces once they discover that the entire underworld wants them both dead. It appears as if the seams of the underworld are on the cusp of bursting, for everyone Fu and Yen come across is either an assassin, a thief, or a swordsman possessing some strange weapon or power. The two men soon find themselves on the trail of the legendary Peacock Dart, a weapon so powerful that it alone can upset the balance of power. Through a series of double-crosses, romantic interludes, exotic traps, and ruminations on the martial chivalry of the swordsman, Fu Hung learns the truth about the jiang hu, its rulers, and the hearts of the men and woman populating its milieu.



What is most entertaining about the film are the increasingly absurd and outlandish set pieces. The action begins in a fairly mundane manner, except for the strange spinning blade used by Fu Hung. However, the swordplay quickly escalates as the set pieces become more and more absurd. There are numerous run ins with one particular character named Devil Grandma, a cannibal dead set on killing, cooking, and eating Fu Hung. Fu Hung and Yen Nan are almost poisoned to death multiple times, and almost every safe haven they stumble across is found out to be a top secret hideout tainted with trapdoors and henchmen waiting to kill them. Then there is the human chess match played on a giant make shift chess board, in which the heroes become the living pawns in a game played to death. All in all, The Magic Blade contains enough creative set pieces and action sequences for a handful of lesser films.



The film also possesses an alluring, otherworldly quality to it, made all the more prevalent by Huang Chien's cinematography, Tong Gaai's action choreography, and Chu Yuan's deft eye as a director. I am ashamed to not know more about Huang, because based upon the beauty of this film it is clear that he possesses a masterful eye behind the camera. Often times the view becomes partially blocked by items in the foreground, thus rendering the film with a voyeuristic quality. It feels as if we are being shown something that should not be seen, a tableau of wicked taboo and conspiracy. Tong Gaai's choreography also captures this quality. Much of the action transpires in the darkness, and the hits of hilts and blades are punctuated with flashes of light and smears of blood. Tong's work here also showcases his amazing ability to introduce creative and outlandish weapons into the mix without becoming too cartoony. With Chu Yuan lording over every detail of the film, the entire production rings with an air of authenticity, and class. Chu's resume is brimming with amazing wuxia pians, and The Magic Blade is a masterful example of this auteur's craft.

[D_Davis]

A Chinese Ghost Story (1987) - Dir. Ching Siu Ting

“A Chinese Ghost Story, out of all the genre mash-ups in the world, you're the genre mashiest.”

A Chinese Ghost Story truly does offer something for almost everyone, and in this regard it is a perfect example of new school Hong Kong filmmaking. It is the product of one of the most prolific and exciting partnerships to be birthed on the small, densely populated island: director Ching Siu Tung and producer/writer/co-director Tsui Hark. The film is a unique experience, and reeks of Hongkie idiosyncrasies, benefiting from Tsui's gonzo production and Ching's panache for crafting outlandish action and situations. There is just no way this film could have come from anywhere else in the world. It exists as a perfect encapsulation of everything that makes Hong Kong genre cinema so maddening, exciting, entertaining, endearing, and alluring.

At its most reductive state, ACGS can be described as a romantic ghost story. However, it also contains many subtle and bombastic comedic moments, a memorable song and dance number, a ton of high-flying fantasy-tinged martial arts, and some moments that are more than a bit creepy and kind of gory. Even with all of these individual motifs and parts, the film never feels like a collection of poorly juxtaposed pieces. On the contrary, Ching's and Tsui's work here melds the film into a stew-like concoction the deftly hides the seems of the various genres and styles it's built from. The transitions between sequences of differing tone feel natural and effortless, and the film greatly benefits from each individual ingredient.



ACGS tells the story of, Ning Tsai-shen (Leslie Cheung), a naive, wandering official sent to collect taxes from various merchants located in a small, remote village. Unpopular with the locals, and totally broke, Ning is forced to find refuge in the Lan Yeuk temple, a haunted place full of evil spirits. It is here that the beautiful fox-spirit, Nieh Hsiao-tsing (Joey Wong), finds Ning and falls in love with him. But is her love true, or is she only a temptress trying to lure Ning into the clutches of the evil tree-demon? Ning also meets up with an adventurous Taoist priest/swordsman/ghost buster, Yen (Wu Ma), who is trying to rid the word of evil spirits. And thus the stage is set and the characters are assembled for an adventure of outrageous situations, B-grade horror, and A-class set pieces.



For sheer action, horror, and comedic moments, comparisons to Evil Dead 2 are not too far off base. There are moments of exhilarating action, like the climatic battle for hell, that would be right at place in one of King Hu's classic wuxia pians. Yen, the Taoist butt-kicker, fights with magic, fist, and sword, as he flies around like some kind of ancient Chinese superhero. Also on display are a number of classic comedic moments, all made more immediate by the outlandish set pieces. One such instance finds the naive Ning unknowingly thwarting a group of stop-motion-animated zombies. However, unlike Evil Dead 2, ACGS also features moments of high-romance and sweetness. Joey Wong's performance as the fox-spirit is alluring and affecting, and more than a little sexual. It is so good, in fact, that after this film she was almost exclusively cast as a ghostly-vixen, which ended up impacting her career; some superstitious filmmakers became suspicious of her ghostly-visage and would refuse to work with her.

If anything, ACGS is charming. While the production is obviously limited by a modest budget, Tsui Hark and Ching Siu Tung work their magic in spades, a filmmaking-magic that many other genre filmmakers lack. The entire production is brimming with character and energy, and the end product exudes a tangible affability. This film is a wonderful example of the kind of films Hongkie filmmakers made during this second golden-age of Hong Kong cinema. It's simply an incredible mix of genre pastiche, including high-concept action, low-brow humor, and off-the-wall antics to this gonzo style of filmmaking endemic to Hong Kong filmmakers.

[Connavar]

Even if you arent a Chan fan Drunken Master 2 is a blast. Its almost impossible to see such hardcore fights,choreography.


Do you dislike all his movies ? Not one you thought was good ?

[D_Davis]

Originally Posted by Connavar

Even if you arent a Chan fan Drunken Master 2 is a blast. Its almost impossible to see such hardcore fights,choreography.


Do you dislike all his movies ? Not one you thought was good ?

Jeez people, DM is not that good, especially compared to the films on the list.

It's not the best Chan film, it's not the best Yeun Wo Ping film, nor is it even the best martial arts comedy.

It's good, but not cream of the crop IMO.

I'd rank it in the next tier down.



There will be one Chan film on the list, and it is glorious, loads better than DM.

And this is, of course, my list, so it is full of films that I like.

[D_Davis]

Samurai Fiction (1998) - Dir: Hiroyuki Nakano



Samurai Fiction is both a celebration of the artistic expression of film, as well as a quiet reflection on an important era in Japan's cinematic history. The film possesses a tangible and infectious energy that oozes from the screen, an energy ignited by passion and reverence. In many ways, SF is a love letter written by Hiroyuki Nakano, addressed to the directors whose films helped to identify a nation and its people. What's more, the film is totally accessible, and can be enjoyed by both genre-veterans and neophytes alike. It stands with its arms outstretched ready to embrace all who allow themselves to fall under its charm.



SF is part send-up, part homage, and part serious study of the jidaigeki: its influences and its themes. The jidaigeki can be seen as Japan's national genre - like the western is to America, so too are the samurai films to Japan. They exist to examine Japan's history, its folk-heroes, its nation, its mythology, and the very things that make Japan, Japan. At the heart of the genre is an artery of Japanese essence, the mono no aware, the examination of the tranquility and Japanese-ness of things. SF encapsulates everything important to the genre, and then adds a unique post-modern spin on the themes, characterizations, and memes.



The film was partially inspired by Pulp Fiction's anachronistic genrebusting. While SF's narrative is fully established in the past, there is a fascinating juxtaposition of modern audio and humor. Electric guitar, piano, synthesizers, rock 'n roll, and electronic music are used to build the film's audio foundation: all instruments and genres anachronistic to the narrative's time period. While some filmmakers and composers might choose this kind of instrumentation without a lot of thought, or just because its how things are done, in SF it is done to add a tinge of modernity to the genre. The film's composer, and one of its stars, Tonoyasu Hotei (who also composed the piece Battle Without Honor or Humanity made popular in Kill Bill) and the director worked to craft a film possessing attractive elements from the here and now and the past; they create a perfect marriage of things important to their generation, as well as the things important to the films of yesterday.



The humor, too, is more modern, and it is also self-referential, but it is not a lazy spoof. While the director's fourth film, Red Shadow, a send up to the ninja film, dives head first into the spoof-pool, SF is graceful and distinguished in its approach. It pokes fun at some of the genre's conventions - the hamster-like ninja school and the proud, naive anger of the main character - but it still remains reverent towards its subject. It also incorporates some comedic gags found in Japanese animation: see the I'm-in-love-nose-bleed as a specific example. The humor never feels forced, but instead it works in perfect tandem with the narrative and the characters; it feels natural, and is not lazily used to craft a simple parody. The humor is there to offer more insight into the genre, and to foster a breeze of aloofness and affability to the film.



Filmed in black and white, with a few punctuations of color, Samurai Fiction exists as both an impassioned homage to an entire genre of cinema, as well as a singular film possessing its own unique voice. Nakano fully understands all of the things that make the jidaigeki so important to his country, and, along with the other filmmakers, he has crafted a film that contains elements of the past and the present. The film is sweet without being sappy; has conflict without relying on too much action; is humorous without being silly; uses music to strengthen the narrative's modernity; and offers up a cast of endearing and memorable characters. It is also, simply, an entertaining film bursting with earnestness and powerful charm.

[Connavar]

I have seen several of this list. Mostly Hung,couple of the shoalin movies.


Let me guess which Chan you will have on your list. Project A ? Police Story 2 ?


At least you have the good taste to like Sammo Hung, he is great

[D_Davis]

You'll have to wait to see

Psst...you guessed it...

[Connavar]

Heh it was easy because IMO Police Story 2 is one of the best hardcore fight movies i have seen. Chan doesnt have much comedy there. It was good to see that good fight movie outside Wuxia setting.


Project A is his funniest work. I saw it last year with hole of my family, we laughed like fools.

[D_Davis]

Originally Posted by Connavar

At least you have the good taste to like Sammo Hung, he is great

I enjoy far more Sammo flicks than I do Chan flicks.

Sammo is amazing. He's just an all around talented dude.

Plus, he choreographed the spectacular, one of a kind, super-film, the one and only, Knock Off, directed by my favorite director, Tsui Hark.