Come Drink with Me

(1966, HK, Shaw Brothers)

Dir. King Hu Chin-chuan; Pro. Run Run Shaw; Scr. King Hu Chin-chuan, Yi Cheung; Action Dir. Han Ying-chieh, Poon Yiu-kwan; Cast Cheng Pei-pei, Yueh Hua, Chen Hung-lieh, Yeung Chi-hing, Lee Wan-chung, Simon Yuen Siu-tien, Yam Ho, Han Ying-chieh.

91 min.

Seminal wuxia film, slicker than your average and bubbling with a colourful elan, although contrary to popular belief this is not quite the best martial arts film ever made. To western eyes, the stalwart knight lady at the heart of the film appears more radical now than it did back in 1960s Hong Kong, a place already familiar with strong female protagonists from traditional Peking Opera stories to wuxia novels and movies. Cheng Pei-pei, aged 19, commands the role of the lethal Golden Swallow with enough intensity to put an absent Bruce Lee in his place.

Widely regarded as director Hu’s greatest collaboration with Shaw Brothers (and his bloodiest), his excellence in staging and photography outshine most of the action scenes which clash and fumble into one another with all the fluidity of a car crash. The story is equally incoherent. Ching rebels kidnap a Chinese official in return for their leader’s freedom, only to face the gender-bending Swallow in their wake. But lots of fun is had, particularly via the loveable Yueh Hua who plays the Drunken Cat, an Opera trained upstart who steals Pei-pei’s thunder with the mastery of a powerful hand technique which allows him to eject dry ice into the faces of his opponents.

The Prodigal Son

(1981, HK, Golden Harvest)

Dir. Sammo Hung Kam-bo; Pro. Raymond Chow Man-wai; Scr. Barry Wong Ping-yiu; Action Dir. Sammo Hung Kam-bo; Cast Yuen Biao, Lam Ching-ying, Frankie Chan Fan-kei, Sammo Hung Kam-bo, Peter Chan Lung, Chung Fat, Dick Wei, Wu Ma, Lee Hoi-san, Chien Yuet-san.

101 min.

A rip-roaring classic of a kung fu movie, this is undoubtedly one of the greatest martial arts films ever made and arguably Sammo’s crowning achievement.

By the time this mature fight fest landed in 1981, Sammo’s uneven trait of mixing sincerity with absurdity was a distant memory, even if it would take Sammo a while to entirely grow out of his penchant for slapstick extremities. The semi-autobiographical story recalls a boyhood spent behind the scenes and on the stage as part of a travelling Peking Opera group. Alongside a cast featuring his former Opera friends and performers, the film feels both heartfelt and strongly authentic.

Everyone plays to the top of their game, particularly during the sizzling fight sequences which display Sammo’s intricate mastery of motion, honed from a breadth of martial knowledge and filming experience. Few kung fu films have managed to top The Prodigal Son in its innovative choreography, with particular attention paid to editing, timing, camera movement, narrative structure and fluidity.

As Sammo’s second Wing Chun film, this acts as an indirect prequel to Hung’s earlier Warriors Two, detailing the early years of martial maestro Leung Jan, here depicted as a spoilt youth played excellently by Yuen Biao. Believing himself to be the kung fu king of Foshan, Leung’s fights are being fixed by his parents who fear for the boy’s safety. It takes a single beating from Wing Chun master and Opera performer Leung Yee-tai (Lam Ching-ying) before the truth comes out.

Despite persistent calls for Yee-tai to become Leung Jan’s sifu, he only reluctantly decides to teach the boy when his entire Opera group are killed and their building torched following a destructive order from the Duke, if only for the benefit of adding a revenge angle to the story.

Sammo appears as the burly Wong Wai-bo, brother of Yee-tai, secluded in a country hideout suffering delusions of grandeur. Frankie Chan plays the warm-hearted villain, but he is only a villain by proxy. He is a privileged, oppositional construct of Leung Jan’s character, possessing the kindest of intentions and only indirectly linked to the Opera murders. The balance of power between Lam Ching-ying’s authority and Yuen Biao’s youthful naivety adds to most of the film’s splendour, with both actors delivering career defining performances. Particularly Lam Ching-ying, even if he does spend large sections of the film singing in drag.

The movie concludes in a bloodbath, with Yuen Biao grappling prodigal rival Frankie Chan toe to toe in an astonishing final reel which never fails to amaze.

AKA: Pull No Punches