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

[D_Davis]

Like kung fu? Like the wuxia pian? Like old-school, open-fisted combat, or new school wire-assisted acrobatics?

Well, I do...a lot!

And so, it is with great pleasure, that I introduce....

D_Davis' Top 30, or so, Martial Arts films!

Let's kick things off with...


The Lady Hermit (1971) - Dir: Ho Meng-Hua



This classic Shaw Brothers film stars the queen of swords, Cheng Pei-Pei, as the eponymous Lady Hermit: a butt kicking beauty who is enjoying a semi-retired/reclusive life away from the martial world. After suffering a debilitating wound at the hands of Black Demon, a ruthless tyrannical martial arts overlord and master of the Shadowless Claw technique, Lady Hermit hangs up her sword to become a caretaker for a security/delivery company (think ancient Chinese Transporter). However, like most famous kung fu masters who go into hiding, her cover is soon blown by a young upstart swordswoman, Cui Ping. The young swordstress wants the Lady Hermit to train her so she cane take revenge against the evil Black Demon. Add to this Lo Lieh, as Chang Chun, a mild love interest torn between the Lady Hermit and Cui Ping, and you have the makings of a classic wuxia narrative.

The Lady Hermit is all about action, atmosphere, and, for lack of a better term, girl-power. Yeah, you better believe it, the two leading ladies in this film kick ass and look good doing it – okay, I admit, that was cheesy. However, I cannot overemphasize how great it is to see two such strong female fighters working together in a film to overcome the evil powers of an evil kung fu master. It is also a breath of fresh air to witness a love triangle between the three heroes that does not pander to juvenile male fantasies, or ask the charismatic leading women to compromise their strength and integrity. The narrative is very mature in that it develops the characters and their individual arcs in a way that makes sense; it makes the characters stronger and more heroic because the narrative treats them with respect.



The first major brawl in the film is utterly fantastic, as is each consecutive clash of cold hard steel. This first major set piece transpires on an abandoned street, in a small Chinese village, as Cui Ping is trying to track down a group of killers who have disguised themselves as ghouls. Soon, she is overrun by the baddies, and who should show up in the nick of time? No other than the enigmatic Lady Hermit, clad in a white cloak and wearing a wide brimmed hat, the Lady Hermit looks like some kind of ghostly beauty poised to kill with her sharpened sword. Together, the Lady Hermit and Cui Ping take on the gang of thugs, and one by one, one spray of blood after another, they dispatch of their adversaries in a ballet-like fashion of beautiful violence.



During the last big brawl, which just so happens to run almost 20-minutes, Cui Ping climbs a tall pagoda to reach Black Demon’s flag in order to slice it down in a symbolic demonstration of humiliation. She does not however use the stairs on the inside of the pagoda. No, she is too dang cool to use stairs. She scales the pagoda from the outside like a female kung fu-Spiderman, only stopping at each level long enough to kill a handful of lackeys. She climbs, spins, flips, pulls, jumps, and slices her way to the top of the dark tower in a display of prowess seldom seen. The entire sequence is something of an action fan’s dream, and is executed flawlessly.

The Lady Hermit is a classic film in every sense of the word. Like Chang Cheh’s Return of the One-Armed Swordsman, I have to wonder why this film is not more well known or mentioned along side the likes of The Seven Samurai, A Fistful of Dollars, The Wild Bunch, or other high profile genre films. Everything about the film, from the music to the staging, from the script to the acting, and from the cinematography to the action choreography, represents a shining example of near-perfection. The narrative is engaging, the characters are endearing, and the entire film oozes with classic charm. When people say “they just don’t make them like they used to,” they are talking about films such as The Lady Hermit: a film that is among the best of the genre.

[D_Davis]

The Tai Chi Master (1993) - Dir: Yuen Woo Ping

Contained within the first 15-minutes of The Tai Chi Master is one of the most exciting and stunning action set pieces I have ever seen: the Luo Han pole-formation sequence. During this amazing demonstration of on-screen, wire-assisted martial arts, Junbao and Tianbao (Jet Li and Chin Siu Ho) take on dozens of Shaolin monks in what looks like the prototype for the “Burly Brawl” seen in the Matrix: Reloaded.

After a sparring competition becomes too ferocious and serious, Junbao and Tianbao find themselves surrounded by their brother-monks, all of whom are equipped with wooden staffs. The monks stack up on one another's shoulders and flex their staffs, springing them into the air like projectiles. Junbao and Tianbao defend themselves against the onslaught of splintery bullets, and soon intercept weapons of their own, thus breaking down the wall of monks.



The two brothers then focus their attacks on the low hanging lanterns, sending broken glass and gallons of slippery fuel spilling to the floor. With the floor slick with oil, Junbao and Tianbao dispatch of the attacking monks while using the fallen bodies as stepping stones and surf boards. In a series of expertly choreographed and edited shots, the monks soon discover that they are no match for the furry and skills of the deadly duo.

As bodies fly and spin through the air, as legs are swept and tripped, as heads and chests are punched and kicked, and as limbs parry and counter-attack with great precision, Junbao and Tianbao eventually escape from the deadly Luo Han pole-formation. Only now, as disgraced and expelled students, Junbao and Tianbao must leave their familiar monastic life and join the secular world, thus the journey begins.



Once on the outside, the two brothers soon part ways. Tianbao is quickly tempted by wealth and power, and pledges his servitude to the evil local official, a power-hungry eunuch (a man who has given up women, usually at the expense of his own testicles, to attain ultimate power). Junbao joins forces with a band of rebels fighting against the evil government and their oppressive ways, and is troubled by his brother's quest for power. Siu Lin (Michelle Yeoh) also joins the rebels, and together with Junbao they lead a small group of revolutionaries in an attack on the military barracks.

After the rebels get pounded, and betrayed by Tianbao and his soldiers, Junbao goes into a state of deep shock and has a nervous breakdown. It is here that he develops his Tai Chi, a calming and powerful martial skill that focuses on mental and physical balance. With his new found power, Junbao, along with Siu Lin, once again challenges Tianbao and the evil unich in a final, action packed, and emotional showdown.



The Tai Chi Master is simply overflowing with hard-hitting action and jaw dropping choreography. Bodies fly through the air like superheroes, and weapons are wielded with dangerous skill. Victims of the combatants' super-powered attacks are juggled through the air, dropping to the ground only after the life has been severely beaten from them.

There is a wonderful action sequence in a tea house where Michelle Yeoh shines, as she uses tables, benches, and stools to attack her ex-husbands new lover. Then there is the famous scaffolding sequence, where Junbao and Tianbao face off for the first time as real enemies. Yuen Woo Ping's and Yuen Cheung Yan's wire work is stunning. Every move looks fluid, and even the more fantastic motions carry weight and have impact.

The Tai Chi Master is entertaining from start to finish; it's an hour and a half of practically non-stop action - this film is an example of both quality and quantity. Yuen Woo Ping maintains tight control on the entire picture, and delivers an action film with a ton of heart and a ton of style. While it may be lacking a bit in terms of character development, when the action is this good, and the story this entertaining, it hardly matters.

[tangaloomababe]

I havn't seen heaps of oriental movies but those I have, I have enjoyed. These being
Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, House of Flying Daggers and my favorite Fearless. But thanks for the tip Davis, The Lady Hermit looks and sound like a good one, don't know what my chances are of getting a copy, but I will see what I can do.

[D_Davis]

Originally Posted by tangaloomababe

I havn't seen heaps of oriental movies but those I have, I have enjoyed. These being
Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, House of Flying Daggers and my favorite Fearless. But thanks for the tip Davis, The Lady Hermit looks and sound like a good one, don't know what my chances are of getting a copy, but I will see what I can do.

Every film on this list is easily available on DVD. You can always check HKFlix.com: Asian, European, Cult & Specialty DVDs and Film Reviews. These guys have great prices and they are reliable. One of the best online retailers I've used.

CTHD will be making an appearance.

I hope you discover some killer flicks!

[D_Davis]

The Prodigal Son (1982) - Dir: Sammo Hung



The Prodigal Son represents everything the mid-school era is known for - great screen fighting, a strong narrative, broad comedy, and classy production values. It might be seen as a concentrated extraction of everything important to its director, Sammo Hung. Not only is the film Hung's crowning directorial achievement, but it is also an A-class example of the genre. It features enough traditional kung fu to appease martial arts buffs, and enough pure energy to please general fans looking for something exciting and well executed. The film also features the beautiful stage productions of Peking Opera, a ton of awesome acrobatics, and amazing performances by Yuen Biao, Lam Ching Ying, and Sammo Hung.



The narrative here touches upon all the important elements found in the genre, and does not strive for originality - one might think of it as a 'best of' the genre. However, because of the near perfect execution of the various motifs and archetypes, the film feels fresh and vital. It is as if Hung and company meticulously studied everything that is necessary to craft the ultimate martial arts extravaganza, and then stopped at nothing to see each and every one of these ingredients mixed together in perfect harmony. Comparing this film to the excellent work found in Lau Kar Leung's Disciples of the 36th Chamber, and in Tsui Hark's Peking Opera Blues would be appropriate - as a matter of fact, these three films encapsulate all of the elements I look for in Hong Kong action cinema.



Based off of the description of the narrative, one might think that this film is just another derivative example of the genre. However, upon viewing the film, it becomes evident that such is not the case. The concept of an 'X-Factor' is an interesting one. Some films have a certain something, something that is hard to grasp, something that separates them from other like-minded films. In a genre as over-populated is the martial arts genre, the concept of an 'X-Factor' is even more important - some films have it, while others do not. Now I am not talking about the differences between a really terrible film and a great one, I am talking about that something special that separates the great films from the truly amazing ones. The Prodigal Son has that something - and for the life of me, I just can't put my finger on exactly what it is - but I do have an idea.



It is not just the amazing presence of the talented Yuen Biao and Sammo Hung - they made other films together - that makes this film stand out. It is not simply because of Lam Ching Ying's screen-stealing charisma - a trait that shines in all of his roles - that gives rise to this film's greatness. The film is not amazing solely because of the intricate and remarkably framed and executed fight choreography. What's more, the film's endearing qualities extend far beyond its concise and perfectly paced narrative, and well written characters. So what is it that makes films like this, and films like Disciples of the 36th Chamber and Peking Opera Blues, so good? Why are some martial arts films far more exceptional than the others, even though they share similar narratives and are made with analogous groups of filmmakers?

I honestly think it comes down to the earnestness of those involved, and how much fun they had while making the film. While watching The Prodigal Son, one thing becomes abundantly clear - this film was made from the heart. This film is like a love letter to kung fu cinema and its fans, written by a group of people who truly understand the language of the medium. I believe that The Prodigal Son is a film that can win over the hearts and minds of the genre-detractors - it is a film to be evangelical about! It is not only a great martial arts film, but it is simply a remarkable film regardless of genre. It should be seen by all who like to witness a perfectly executed narrative, including sincere characters, real drama, and a tangible and powerful flow of cinematic energy.

[D_Davis]

Shaolin Temple (1976) - Dir: Chang Cheh



Shaolin Temple is a very special film. It is a wonderful representation of the best its director had to offer during one highly prolific era. Between the years of 1970 and 1976, Chang Cheh made more than 14 films, and many of these are considered bona fide genre classics. There are two that stand above the rest though, and Shaolin Temple is one of them. For a kung fu film it is epic, and, at almost 2-hours in length, there is ample time for some wonderful character development and genuine human drama, two traits sometimes missing from lesser films of the same genre. It also serves as the foundation for the Shaolin Cycle, a series of films based in, around, and about the Shaolin Temple and its warrior monks.



Shaolin Temple assembles an ensemble cast that is something of a dream-come-true for martial arts fans. It features major stars from all three of Chang Cheh's different stables: there's Ti Lung, Johnny Wang, and David Chiang, along with Alexander Fu Sheng, and some of the Venoms, including, Philip Kwok, Lo Meng, and Chiang Sheng. By bringing together three distinct groups of actors, skilled in different areas, Chang Cheh's film benefits from each of their unique strengths. David Chiang and Ti Lung bring their established charisma, becoming like noble surrogate fathers to the younger stars. Alexander Fu Sheng brings his boyish good-looks and cocky attitude to his character's story of personal revenge. The Venoms, along with Johnny Wang, bring their amazing acrobatic and screen fighting skills. Shaolin Temple really is a “best of the best.”



The narrative is also incredibly strong, and it is classically paced; the film contains more than simple wall-to-wall fighting. As a matter of fact, it takes about 30 minutes for the first real fight to surface, and each subsequent action set piece is perfectly paced from this point forward. By focusing on the various characters, and their desires, Chang Cheh's film carries with it real human drama. At its core, it is a “training film,” but it is also a film about the Shaolin Temple, and the political turmoil during this historic time.

The story focuses on the first small group of non-monk students allowed to train at the temple. It follows them as they learn the various animal techniques - the Tiger, Crane, Dragon, Leopard and Snake styles - while completing seemingly mundane tasks such as stoking fires, stirring rice, jumping out of pits, and airing out the pages of books. There is also a great deal of political intrigue and mystery on hand, as well as suspicion, treachery, and deceit.



The action itself is quite spectacular, but more importantly, it serves a narrative purpose and is not there just because this happens to be a kung fu film. There are a variety of various styles on hand, and each one is executed with great skill. Ti Lung's Wing Chun technique is especially remarkable, as is Fu Sheng's Crane and Tiger styles. The weakest action link is, like usual, David Chiang. Even though I am quite fond of his acting, he has never sold me on his screen fighting ability. I find it lacking, at best, and sometimes it is down right laughable.



One of the action-highlights is when Fu Sheng and Chi Kuan Chun challenge the Shaolin Temple's “wooden men.” This legendary final test consists of a series of deadly mechanized traps peppered throughout the interior of a large labyrinth. This maze of death is the only way out of the Shaolin Temple, and it must be navigated with skill and iron-man-like endurance. This sequence is well shot, suspenseful, and action packed, and adds another layer to a narrative already thick with drama and intrigue.

More than anything, Shaolin Temple is just a grand production, one that is made stronger by the endearing characters, the classic narrative, and Chang Cheh's skills as a director. Shaolin Temple is solid old school kung fu, and is a true representation of Chang Cheh's directorial abilities. It really is one of those classic films that is easy to see why so many people think so highly of it.

[D_Davis]

Kung Fu Hustle (2004) - Dir: Stephen Chow



God bless Stephen Chow, or maybe Buddha should administer the blessing – I am not privy to the protocols of cross cultural/religious exaltations. Actually, I don’t care who blesses this man, as long as he gets blessed and continues to create films as massively entertaining as Kung Fu Hustle. Seeing Kung Fu Hustle is akin to having your face kicked in with creativity while being sucker punched with a plethora of personality and side swiped with whimsical wackiness. This film is at once a send up to the classic Golden Harvest and Shaw Brothers productions of yesteryear, while simultaneously being a launching point for a whole new era of martial arts mayhem.



In the film, Chow plays Sing, a wannabe hooligan who’s false bravado and faux fu, finds him in a heap of trouble with the evil and blundering Axe Gang as well as the occupants of Pigsty, a run down apartment complex managed by the bad ass cigarette smoking landlady and her fey hubby. Amidst the populace of this unpleasant abode is hidden a handful of kung fu masters: The Coolie, who has legs like a horse and can kick up a storm, The Tailor, who might be gay but is doubtless a master in iron-ring armed combat, and The Noodle Maker, whose wooden staff technique creates whirlwinds of destruction. However, these three are not the only masters-in-hiding, for the chain smoking landlady and her chicken-like husband just so happen to be two of the most powerful kung fu warriors in the world.

The only thing these hidden-masters desire is some peace and quiet, as they desperately try to leave the world of martial arts behind. So, imagine Sing’s, and the Axe Gang’s, surprise when they both nefariously try to bully around the occupants of Pigsty and wind up becoming human punching bags. As one attempt after another to become a member of the Axe Gang backfires on Sing, he sets in motion a plot full of failed assassination attempts (introducing two magical musician-assassins who truly rock the martial world), Loony Tunes-like chase sequences, and the unleashing of a monstrous kung fu baddie, known only as The Beast, which all culminates into a no holds barred maniacal melee of flying fisticuffs and tomfoolery.



What sets Kung Fu Hustle apart from other like-minded martial arts cinema is its pure sense of reckless abandon. In typical mo lei tau style, Chow lets lose with a flurry of send-ups, parodies, and non-sequiturs, and yet still achieves a coherent narrative that remains somewhat original while barrowing from sources across the globe. This is all in testament to Chow’s genius behind and in front of the camera, as well as at the writer’s desk. Written and Directed by Chow, Kung Fu Hustle represents a very personal look at just what lies beneath the surface this beloved genre, as Chow examines the tropes and cliché often found in these films. He pokes fun at gender-bending masters, a young upstart becoming “The One,” and the evil seemingly unbeatable ghastly miser, while also examining the heroic bond of kung fu masters, and what true love really means to someone who can command a metric ton of ass kicking power.



I was actually surprised at how little screen time Chow allowed for his own character, but it does make sense in the grand scheme of things. Ultimately what Kung Fu Hustle is, is a love letter from the writer/director to all of the old actors, directors, choreographers and filmmakers who created the classics of the genre he loves so dearly – a genre that in many ways shaped an entire country’s pop-culture and cinematic industries. By giving the starring roles with more screen time to the aged legends of generations past, and by instead focusing on characters with some years behind them, Chow’s love letter hits kung fu film fans like the giant palm of the hand of Buddha. Kung Fu Hustle is a film that can be loved by all, but is loved and adored even more so by viewers steeped in the martial arts genre. It is a near perfect film full of top notch action, great comedy, and a sense of style and personality all too often lacking from genre cinema – it is neither dark nor gritty, mean or cynical, but is rather a film full of whimsy and exuberance.

[D_Davis]

Mr. Vampire (1985) - Dir. Ricky Lau



For those of you unfamiliar with Chinese hopping vampires, consider this film homework - you will gather a great deal of understanding about these legendary creatures, and the men who controlled them and fought them. Although this came out after Sammo Hung's seminal hopping vampire film, Spooky Encounters, I think that Mr. Vampire is the better film because of the entire package - it just feels more complete to me, and I feel much more satisfied after having watched it.



Mr. Vampire truly is the “Hong Kong Evil Dead 2.” This is not to say that it is simply a rip-off of Raimi's amazing flick, but that it is equal parts comedy, horror, and action, and that every part fits within the whole. Mash-up films constructed of differing tones and genres often feel disjointed, the seams are frequently too clearly visible. However, these are exactly the kinds of films the Hong Kong film industry excelled at creating during the 1980s. They truly did make films for everybody, and they made them fantastically well. These mid-school Hong Kong filmmakers treated their films like variety shows, and made sure that each “act” was executed with precise skill. That is to say that Mr. Vampire is a genrebusting film, and this is a very good thing.

The comedy, while broad, is actually pretty funny, and there are a handful of drop dead hilarious sequences that allow Ricky Hui to do his thing. Hui's comedic timing, facial expressions, and physical abilities are amazing, as is expected from one of the famous Hui Brothers (perhaps the most famous comedy family in the Hong Kong film community). Whether he is bumbling his way around a Chinese mortuary, controlling a romantic rival through possession magic, or dancing on uncooked sticky rice to keep his blood moving so as no to turn into a vampire, he maintains an earnest demeanor and his sad-sap looks. Hui has an “awe shucks” look perpetually plastered on his face, and he plays up this persona to comedic perfection.



With Hui handling the comedic side of the film, this allows Lam Ching-Ying and Chin Siu-Ho to focus on the action and acrobatics. Lam Ching-Ying's portrayal of the Taoist priest is one of the most iconic performances of the Hong Kong film industry, rivaling even Gordon Liu's turn as the bald headed Shaolin monk. Lam's stern look, goofy hair cut, unibrow, and frustrated persona define this role. This role would be one that Lam would return to time and time again, and was often emulated by other actors. Chin Siu-Ho also brings the goods with some of the best tumbling and acrobatics ever filmed, all captured with some expertly timed slow motion and precise framing. With physical skills rivaling Yuen Biao's, Chin does some amazing stunt work, and in the film's amazing action set pieces he totally steals the show.

While the action is great, there isn't a lot of it, and in this department, Mr. Vampire is an example of quality and ingenuity over quantity. There are three main action set pieces: the jail house rescue, which has some amazing acrobatic work by Chin and Lam, the final dual between the heroes and the master vampire, and, my favorite sequence, the battle between Lam and a lustful spirit who has fallen in love with Chin's character.



In Chinese mythology, female ghosts often tempt living males into loving them, and with each passing physical touch, they steal a little of the poor sap's life force. In this short, but amazing, action sequence, Lam battles a spiky-haired flying demon-head with his magical dagger; it's a classic and memorable fantasy-based martial arts fight. The cheesiness of the effects, complete with an a unintentional visible wire, adds to the endearing and earnest quality of the film. Fan's of genre cinema often lament this age of digital, CG effects, disparaging their lack of personality and character. Mr. Vampire is as good as argument as any for dodgy, practical effects, and their ability to amaze and entertain.



Mr. Vampire is solid, well made entertainment that stretches itself beyond mere genre conventions. In addition to the great comedy and well choreographed action, the film offers an interesting story, and some beautiful cinematography. Mr. Vampire really is a complete package, it works on a number of levels. It is also a great launching point for a neophyte's journey into the genrebusting films from Hong Kong. Mr. Vampire contains within its 90-minute runtime almost everything the fans of mid-school Hong Kong cinema enjoy, and it executes each morsel of cinematic goodness with panache, skill, and passion.

[D_Davis]

Zu: Warriors of the Magic Mountain (1983) - Dir: Tsui Hark



Zu: Warriors of the Magic Mountain is the quintessential Tsui Hark film. It contains everything he is known for, both the good and the bad, amped up to an absurd degree. It features the ferocious creativity and breakneck pacing, but it also has a narrative that requires massive leaps in logic and fails to convey exactly what the heck is going on. The action is frantic and wonderfully filmed, but once again it feels as if Tsui is trying to cram too much innovation into one film. Often, while watching a Tsui Hark film, one gets the impression that the director is afraid of not being able to make any more movies, and so he stuffs as much as he can into each and every film, plot and sanity be damned. No where is this more readily apparent than in Zu, and the film is unique, marvelous, and frustrating for it.

Zu is both a high flying, special-effects ladened extravaganza, and a film teeming with political allegory and subtext. The narrative begins smack dab in the middle of the most colorful civil war ever filmed. Five armies - red, green, orange, red, and blue - face off in a giant melee of swords and fisticuffs. After escaping the violence of the battleground (with comical cowardice), Ti Ming Chi (Yuen Biao) finds himself in a strange and magical land - the mountains of Zu. While shirking his fate in one war, Ti Ming becomes embroiled in a much more important battle: the ultimate struggle of good and evil, on which the fate of all mankind rests in the heroes' ability to vanquish a foe that represents the diabolical threat of communism itself!



Tsui's films often deal with feelings of isolation, and being lost in one's own country. His characters often find themselves feeling like fish out of water, even though they are still in water - its just an altogether different fish tank that they have unwittingly fallen into. His characters often struggle with their identity, and their place in the world they find themselves in, two traits reflected in the bustling, metropolitan, city life of modern day Hong Kong. Because of their colonial past, Hong Kong natives have found it difficult to identify with their own Chinese heritage - they are Chinese, but not part of China, and while they aren't British, they were once part of Great Britain. This kind of nationalistic identity crisis helped to give birth to many of the post New Wave Hong Kong films, and it gave Tsui a way to imbue his fantasy-epics with socio-political subtext.



The land of Zu is both totally alien, and yet strangely familiar to Ti Ming. Imagine going to Disneyland only to find it has been redesigned by the Mad Hatter after a particularly long night of pill popping and nightmares. While you might see things you thought you recognized, hints of the familiar, the sights and sounds would also be new, frightening, and astounding, and the sights and sounds in the magical mountains of Zu, doubly so! Tsui takes all of the staple martial arts archetypes, and puts them into a blender set on “phantasmal.” There is the white-browed, wise priest, only now his white hair is able to grow at will and be used as a trap for an evil demon. The strong warrior-women are here as well, but in Tsui's world their feminist power is so strong they have absolutely no need for men, or society at all.

Perhaps the biggest change of all is how the various weapons are portrayed. Martial arts films have a long history of showcasing strange and exotic weaponry, but in Zu the weapons are totally out of this world. There are magical Taoist cymbals, capable of flying-saucer-like flight and multiplication. Then there is the incredible power of the black and white swords that can be sky-surfed on while at the same time they are able to shoot multiple blades out of their hilts. Most mystical of all though are the Jade and Purple swords, two blades that are conjured from the very souls of the heroes, spiritual blades that envelope their users and imbue them with superhero-like powers.



Yes there are a ton of creative moments peppered throughout the film, moments that defy description, and are truly stunning. However, the backbone of the film, the ever important “narrative,” is not so special. As a matter of fact, it's kind of a mess. The worst part is that Tsui never establishes a sense of geography in the mystic mountains. The film feels like a collection of set pieces, and not like the epic fluid story it needs to be. At its heart, it is a simple quest story, but all the questing has been cut out and we are only left with the punctuation. I normally enjoy brevity and concise story telling, but here Tsui takes it to the extreme and the film suffers for it. Another problem is the characters themselves. While they are totally fascinating and often entertaining, they are also totally vapid and undeveloped. We never learn anything about why these mystical heroes are the way they are, and for a film dealing with such an illustrious mythos, this is a crippling misstep.



What it comes down to is this: Zu should be approached on a purely aesthetic level; It looks great. As an exercise in early special effects work and a showcase for a director who would continuously push the technical boundaries of the medium, it is exemplary. It also works as a new school martial arts action flick, one full of crazy weapons, exotic techniques, and a ton of magic. It's just too bad the film comes up short almost every where else. While the film is far from perfect it still possesses an endearing quality that is almost impossible to ignore - its got character oozing from its pores, and there really is nothing else like it on the planet.

[D_Davis]

Unfortunately, this review doesn't really work with the 5 screencap limit here. If you want to see the full thing, go here:

http://genrebusters.com/film/top100_77themaster.htm


The Master (1980) - Dir: Lu Chin-ku



There really isn't much to say about this amazing old school kung fu flick. It is on my list, and ranked this high, simply for two things: the action choreography and the physical prowess of the performers. This is a film to be admired, and respected, purely for the craft of filming and choreographing kung fu. The Master is, quite simply, a kung fu fan's dream come true. While the story itself is not amazing, at all, it's about as cliche as they come, the frequent bouts of fisticuffs peppered throughout are stunning and jaw dropping. Narratively speaking, The Master tackles the age-old, “you killed my master, prepare to die” story so frequently told, and does so in a decent manner, but does nothing to distinguish its cloned narrative from the plethora of similarly plotted films.

However, when it comes to the action, and the performances of the combatants, The Master is a work of brilliance. The action is choreographed by Hsu Hsia. Even though Hsu is not as well known as Corey Yuen, or Yuen Woo Ping, or Lau Kar Leung, he's still one of the best. His filmogrpahy includes Drunken Master, The Boxer From Shantung, The Chinese Boxer (the very first open handed, “kung fu” film), The Boxer From the Temple, and many others. Yes, he has a very respectable resume. From the films I have seen, The Master stands above when it comes to the action. Of course it also helps to have Chen Kuan-tai , Johnny Wang, and newcomer Yuen Te, who was also Jackie Chan's classmate, and went on to become a respectable action director himself.

When the film is not showcasing some of the best screen-fighting imaginable, it is merely okay. It's full of all the old standbys: broad physical comedy, cross-dressing shennanigans (with some welcomed topless cuties), tons of tom-and-kung-foolery, and all manner of standard genre conventions. So, even if you watch this film with remote in hand, the good stuff is simply brilliant, and totally memorable. These kinds of kung fu films are often called “shapes films,” because of how they focus on the shapes the martial artists “throw” at each other. There are strict forms they utilize, and each form is depicted with certain bodily shapes. The Master is a perfect example of this kind of film. And now, for a bunch of screen-caps, detailing exactly why this film is so awesome.

1. The downtrodden, underdog hero (with the worst hair cut ever) who has to take revenge for his...

2. Master...

3. Who is killed by the Three evil masters, each who specialize in a difference weapon and style.



4. Broad, often juvenile humor that is funny and silly...



5. Amazing choreography (many of the fight sequences features dozens, upon dozens of exchanges before a single cut or edit - sometimes more than 40!)...



6. Physical performances of outstanding prowess (you won't believe your eyes)...

[D_Davis]

The Sword (1980) - Dir: Patrick Tam



“Fame and glory is nothing but a mirage.”

Violence begets more violence in Patrick Tam's poetic examination of the jiang hu and the obsession, passion, mystery, and sadness of its inhabitants. Part romance, part revenge flick, and part murder-mystery, this wuxia pian is an A-class example of the Hong Kong new wave movement, and is a masterpiece of its genre. By breaking free of the confines of the Shaw Brothers back lot, and embracing influences stemming from European, Japanese, and American filmmakers, Patrick Tam's film is a mesmerizing landmark of martial arts cinema. From the very first moments it is clear that something is different, and like Tsui Hark's The Butterfly Murders, The Sword represents a fresh start.



While the film itself was a rebirth of sorts for Hong Kong genre cinema, its narrative represents the desolate, murky world of a subculture on the cusp of extinction. It's as if the film is depicting the final few hours of the “swordsman,” the last remaining moments of glory and adventure before the curtain falls, and notions of a time far more romantic and innocent are put to rest. The world portrayed in the film is an empty one, inhabited only by the last few remaining hold outs, vestiges of their era. Gone are the typical street-merchants, crowded thoroughfares, and alleyways often seen in other martial arts films. The world of The Sword is a phantom one, one that is slowly, but surely, fading away into non-existence.



Adam Cheng stars as Li Mak-Yin, a young but mature swordsman, who wants nothing more than to test his skills in combat against the great and legendary swordsman Wah, played by Shaw Brothers alumni Tien Feng. Li is also pursued by Lin Wan (Norman Chu) and Ching Ti-Yi (a very young Eddy Ko), two evil swordsmen who frame Li for murder. Thrown into the mix are three beautiful woman who form the emotional anchors which the men both embrace and strive to break free from. Unlike the convoluted casts of dozens found in most wuxia films, the relatively small ensemble in The Sword allows the narrative to be executed with brevity and precision. The film is short, concise, and not a single moment is wasted.



Patrick Tam's direction is exciting and fresh, and even though this was his first film, it looks, sounds, and feels like one made by a seasoned filmmaker. Tam keeps tight control of the narrative, and sets up some truly stunning shots and sequences, while never losing track of the human drama. With Ching Siu Tung handling the action choreography, coupled by cinematography from an award winning DP, Bill Wong, The Sword exudes a sense of class and style vastly superior to many films from the same era. The music too is a bellwether for the genre, and the score offers up a wonderfully haunting theme with instrumentation ranging from traditional acoustic instruments to analog synthesizers. Every facet of the film is executed almost perfectly, and even today, 27-years later, The Sword is still one of the best martial arts movies ever made.

[Quokka]

I enjoyed Kung Fu Hustle similar to what you said there's a kind of fairytale charm to it (almost akin to The Princess Bride) that draws you into the world and it's people more than most action flics. I haven't seen many martial arts movies (though I grew up on Monkey) and I should, the way fight scenes are depicted in most western 'action' movies is at least part of why I don't really enjoy many of them any more so I'll be stopping in to get some ideas on where to start. Of the few I've seen I hope Police Story or Drunken Master gets a mention

[D_Davis]

Originally Posted by Quokka

Of the few I've seen I hope Police Story or Drunken Master gets a mention

Hate to disappoint...

Not a big fan of Jackie Chan's films. I like him, but I don't care for many of his films. There is one Chan film on the list though, and it is brilliant.

You really can't go wrong with any of the films on this list. I've seen probably around 300, or more, martial arts films, and I think I've really picked the best of the best of the ones I've seen. Of course, I haven't seen them all!

And I agree with you about Western action cinema. While there are some pretty awesome Western action films, I do prefer the Hong Kong touch.

[D_Davis]

Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (2000) - Dir. Ang Lee



The first time I saw Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, I was disappointed. The hype machine behind this film was unprecedented, and both print and online publications were all too quick to declare it, “the greatest martial arts film of all time.” I was expecting something extraordinary. I was expecting something groundbreaking. I was expecting something that would be instantly be more amazing than any of the dozens of new school, post-Once Upon a Time in China wuxia pians I had already seen. In all actuality, I had already seen it dozens of times; where was the greatness? While other people were blown away by how the swordsmen flew through the air, I was all too quick to point out that they've been doing this for decades. My own appreciation for the genre kept from totally enjoying the film, because my eyes were tainted by one of the most ugly of all things - fandom.



However, a curious thing happened during a second viewing of Crouching Tiger. I started to notice the subtleties of the characterizations, and the intricate editing found in Yuen Woo Ping's action choreography. The haunting melodies of Yo-Yo Ma's score seeped into my system, and completely engaged me. The sweeping, epic love story carried real emotional weight, and I began to notice Ang Lee's masterful control of each and every moment of the film. While I still wasn't ready to declare it the best martial arts film ever, my appreciation for the film grew and grew, and upon each subsequent viewing, the film's endearing qualities softened my heart and I enjoyed it more and more.



At its core, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon tackles a theme all too important to its director: forbidden love. Where Lee's newest film, Brokeback Mountain, is a story of a forbidden love in America's rugged west, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon is a story of forbidden love in the ancient underworld of the martial arts, the jiang hu. The concept of the jiang hu is not something that is easy for westerners to totally understand, but Lee's film does a wonderful job at explaining, through great characterizations, its intricacies. The jiang hu is like a parallel world to our own, one that is inhabited by martial artists and other characters important to their survival. The jiang hu represents the milieu of the martial artist, and only those submerged in the underworld are able to comprehend its existence. While a laymen may look at a beggar and only see a pox on society, a member of the jiang hu may look at the same beggar and instantly see through the man's disguise, and recognize that the beggar is, in fact, a great martial artist.



Mu Bai (Chow Yun Fat) and Shu Lien (Michelle Yeoh), are members of the jiang hu, and they are also secretly, and passionately in love. However, they also know that their status within the jiang hu prevents them from fully embracing one another: they must uphold their chivalrous duties. They live with one foot in one world (the normal world), and one foot in another world (the jiang hu), while their hearts hover somewhere in between, constantly being pulled by internal and external forces. The passion these two characters have for one another, and for their martial duties, is expertly conveyed through everything they do. From the tranquil moments of quiet contemplation, to their mastery of various weapons and open-handed fighting techniques, Mu Bai and Shu Lien exude great understanding, passion, patience, and admiration for everything that surrounds them; they are true masters, and Ang Lee captures this brilliantly.



There is so much more I could say about this film; to say I could write volumes on the intricacies of the plot, the nuances of each characterization, and on the craft behind the filmmaking would be a great understatement. Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon is not a great martial arts film, it is a great film. While the action is breathtaking, and is expertly edited and framed, it is the emotional anchor cast by the characters that truly engages. And while the narrative is full of adventure, deception, political intrigue, and tension, it is the passion and maturity of the characters that makes it all worthwhile. There are countless other martial arts films I turn to when I want great action and a fix of awesome kung fu, however, when I want a moving and epic love story more than fisticuffs and bloodletting, it is Ang Lee's extraordinary film that grabs my attention.

[D_Davis]

Big Trouble in Little China (1986) - Dir. John Carpenter



Big Trouble in Little China is John Carpenter's fusion of western action convention and eastern mythology. It is a modern day wuxia pian, set in the west, featuring characters out of their element doing battle against forces from an altogether foreign land and distant time. While the action itself is not up to par with the true martial arts films of the time, it totally works as a whole package. It is an American film that truly does capture the gonzo genre-mashing attitude of its mid-school Hong Kong contemporaries. It's funny, reverent, well-written, and endlessly entertaining.



In a wonderful twist on stereotypical roles, the true hero of Big Trouble is not Kurt Russell's Jack Burton, it's Dennis Dun's character, Wang Chi. This is an incredibly brave move and adds a novel element to the film's narrative. Kurt Russell had previously been the heroic star of two Carpenter flicks, The Thing and Escape From New York, and so many, erroneously, assumed that he would be the hero of this film as well. In truth, however, Jack Burton is a bumbling idiot full of false bravado, good intentions, and a decent heart. He's a lucky bastard who, through sheer perseverance, stumbles into victory and into the arms of the ladies.



Wang Chi, on the other hand, is the true action hero of the film. Because the film takes place in Chinatown, Wang is in a familiar place - this is his 'hood. Chinatown represents his world enveloped inside of a larger foreign one; Chinatown is a microcosm of his own culture. Once Jack Burton steps off of his semi-truck, and places his foot on Chinatown soil, he becomes the fish out of water and the blind man needing a lead. John Carpenter totally turns the tables on the audience, and his film is all the better for it. Far too often in western martial arts films, we find a hunky “American” (Usually Jean-Claude Van Damme or Steven Seagal) being the hero in their home country and while abroad. This notion that the westerner is always the bad-ass hero-type, even when in a foreign land, is rather insulting and played out; its an example of cultural-imperialism in its most base form.

In many ways, this film was far ahead of its time, or perhaps it completely missed the boat - I tend to believe the earlier. The kung fu craze in the west, started by Bruce Lee, had long since passed, and the next wave of martial mayhem was still a few years off. In this regard, Big Trouble stands as a proud and brilliant beacon of light in the dark caves of genre cinema. That it plays everything relatively straight, this is not a film poking fun at kung fu cinema, also adds to its anomalous stature. It opened in theatres in 1986, and there just wasn't anything else like it at the time. In many ways, I think it is Carpenter's bravest film. To follow up a series of strong horror and thriller films with a fantasy martial arts comedy is either a stroke of genius, or the signs of a madman gone off the deep end.



Speaking of madmen, I cannot fail to mention the great Lo Pan, played by the amazing James Hong , a truly memorable villain if there ever was one. Who can forget Lo Pan's evil, scratchy voice, or his light emitting eye balls? Or how about his long, razor-sharp fingernails and his ghost-like visage? Lo Pan simply kicks ass, and Hong's portrayal of the ancient, evil sorcerer is one of the all time great genre performances. Hong is funny, frightening, and memorable in the role, and totally nails each nuance of the character.



More than anything though, Big Trouble in Little China is entertaining. From beginning to end, it moves with a great pace. It has a creative and exciting narrative, and the film is overflowing with inventive set pieces, characters, and situations. John Carpenter, Kurt Russell, Dennis Dun, James Hong, and a young, and very gorgeous, Kim Cattrall, all come together to craft one amazing picture. Add in a bevy of rockin' special effects, some killer action, and the absolutely amazing Carter Wong as Thunder, one of the four elemental martial-wizards, and you have the blueprint for ass-kickery, and kick ass it does.