Showing posts with label Shu Qi. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Shu Qi. Show all posts

Monday, August 29, 2011

Legend of the Fist: Return of Chen Zhen


Legend of the Fist: The Return of Chen Zhen is an outstanding kung fu picture and an outstanding bit of agitprop.

Donnie Yen (the Ip Man films, the Iron Monkey films, Blade II, Hero, Shanghai Knights) follows in the footsteps of Bruce Lee and Jet Li as the titular hero in this third Chen Zhen film (Lee originated the role in Fist of Fury and Li played him in Fist of Legend.).  Yen, gifted with extraordinary speed and agility, is a formidable martial artist and a charismatic performer.  Through a combination of world-class editing, practical stunts, wirework, and seamlessly executed CGI, Legend of the Fist turns him into a just-that-side-of-superhuman hero.  The film puts him into a variety of brilliantly choreographed fights, one of which even includes a “tribute to Bruce Lee” nunchuck bit that brought a huge smile to my face.  Oh, and bonus: Yen can act!  Shu Qi (The Transporter, So Close) plays the love interest and, well, I’d watch her fold laundry for 90 minutes.  Anthony Wong Chau-Sang, (Vengeance, the Infernal Affairs movies), plays a sympathetic nightclub owner, and he’s steadily rising in my estimation.  I’m going to start looking for movies on the strength of his name.  Director Andrew Lau (the really quite good Infernal Affairs movies) knows how to direct action, and he knows how to direct acting.  He’s created a very slick, very good, very professional kung movie.  I loved it on those merits alone.

But Legend of the Fist has a whole other thing going on.  Chen Zhen’s story takes place during the period of Chinese history called the Warlord Era, between World Wars One and Two.  The once-proud nation was divided and weak and easy prey for both Western powers, who sought commercial exploitation, and Japan, who wanted an empire.  Anyone who wants to understand contemporary Chinese political thought and international strategy needs to understand this time -- it has become a touchstone of Chinese identity.  This was the time when the proud kingdom was on its knees, when tiny Japan maligned it as the “weak man of Asia.” When Legend of the Fist begins, Chen Zhen and his comrades are in Europe, fighting WWI with the Allied Powers.  The film tells us they had no military training and were sent as laborers, digging trenches and hauling ammunition.  Of course, they get shot and blown up just easily as the white men carrying the rifles.  When the war concludes, China’s ignored in Versailles and its erstwhile allies look the other way as Japan begins its conquest.  Chen Zhen becomes a resistance leader, fighting the evil Japanese and standing up for Chinese national pride.  He and his allies humiliate the Japanese.  They humiliate the corrupt English police chief who, when humbled, mumbles an American-inflected “whatever.”  Chen Zhen, thus, becomes a symbol of modern Chinese nationalism, of a nation fighting complacent Western and Western-allied powers for respect.  Chen Zhen wins.

I imagine this goes over hugely well with Chinese audiences and, for that matter, with the Chinese government.  But you don’t have to be Chinese to groove on the fantastic action, the very good performances, and the intellectual exercise of analyzing nationalist film’s place in modern China.  I thought Legend of the Fist: The Return of Chen Zhen was fantastic.  If you like this genre, I think you’ll love it, too.

Monday, January 29, 2007

Three Times

THREE TIMES, directed by Hsiao-hsien Hou and starring Qi Shu and Chen Chang, is supposed to be a briliant movie. It won a Golden Horse for Best Taiwanese Film of the Year and was nominated for a Golden Palm, so it has some serious bona fides, but those bona fides didn't translate into a movie I could engage or enjoy. I suspect it's because THREE TIMES is too Chinese - it's so deeply embedded in Chinese themes and concerns that there isn't much there for the Occidental viewer.

THREE TIMES consists of three short stories, each a play on the theme of love missed. The first, set in the mid-'60s, casts Qi as a pool hall attendant and Chen as a soldier who falls in love with her, only to miss the connection in the end. In the second, Qi plays a courtesan and Chen a wealthy patron, one who always speaks of freeing China from foreign domination while blithely allowing the young woman to remain in servitude at the bordello. In the third, the two play a couple in modern Taipei, so thoroughly engrossed in their own personal worlds that they're incapable of reaching out to another human being.

These sound like interesting premises, but they depend upon an understanding of nonverbal communication and social cues that, in turn, require a deep familiarity with the culture on which they're based. The second story, for example, is a silent movie: its dialogue consisting of intertitle cards and the only sounds are that of the of the courtesan's sad songs. The sad songs are Chinese traditionals, done in the scaling, high, nearly nasal tone that was fashionable at that time, and which grates on my ears today. As for the first and third stories, they depend upon an understanding of the culture and history of Taiwan - one which I, as a viewer lacking in that knowledge, couldn't deliver.

If you're Chinese, you may love the heck out of THREE TIMES. For me, it didn't deliver.