Once Upon a Time in China: Film Workshop/ Media Asia Dist.
Rating: USA: R

While trying to come up with a lead in for this review, it occurred to me that I should probably start by mentioning a bit about Wong Fei-hong. It then occurred to me that I’d already written a pretty detailed history about the man/myth for my review of Jackie Chan’s Drunken Master 2. So, in the spirit of recycling, here’s a recounting of that brief history lesson followed by commentary written specifically for this film.

Few characters in China’s rich and illustrious history have been more popular than Wong Fei-hong (1847-1924). Wong, who was a martial arts master (he was skilled in kung-fu forms ranging from the lion dance, the no shadow kick, the flower fist, all the way through to the infamous drunken boxing), who used his skill to fight for the good of the common Chinese man, and much like the legendary gunslingers of early American folklore, his exploits were recorded and mythologized by numerous writers. Soon, with the advent of the filmmaking industry in China and Hong Kong, Wong became a box-office staple, the central character of countless films, and became even more mythic as his life and times were recounted on the silver screen. Many of Hong Kong’s best martial arts actors have played Wong Fei-hong over the years—Kwan Tak-hing played the character in nearly 60 films, but most recent audiences are more likely to identify with Jet Li’s interpretation of the character.

Li, who first made a name for himself in a series of films set in the Shaolin temples, is probably best known for his role as the Chinese patriot—and for good reason. While it’s no secret that I’m not the biggest Jet Li fan around, the actor really shines in these historical martial arts dramas—and he shines his brightest here, when working in coordination with a legendary filmmaker like Tsui Hark (Wicked City). There have been roughly 100 films made chronicling the adventures of Wong, and while I haven’t seen all of them, I can safely assure you that this is one of the best of the bunch.

This time around, Wong is running what appears to be both a martial arts school and a healing center. He’s highly regarded by the townspeople for his mastery of various martial arts forms, but he’s not loved by the local politicians, who see him as some sort of rabble-rouser. Wong’s not a trouble maker, though—just a virtuous and patriotic citizen who sees his beloved China being overrun by foreign influences and losing its sense of cultural identity in the process. The British, the Americans, and the French have all staked claim to his homeland—coming in and taking what they want while showing no respect for China’s rich history.

Unfortunately, a chain of events unfolds which casts Wong and his school in a negative light. His compatriots are rounded up and arrested for being part of a militia, and Wong himself is only avoiding prison because he’s busy trying to nurse Chinese citizens injured in an attempt on his own life.

If all of that weren’t enough, he’s got his Aunt Yee (Rosamund Kwan, who’s often referred to as Aunt 13 in the subtitled versions of the film) around, and there’s both a romantic tension between them as well as a weird sort of polarity (he’s the simple Chinese man, she’s been traveling abroad and seems slightly out of touch with her Chinese roots. And finally, to top it off, he’s been challenged by an upstart sifu (master) named Iron Robe Yim (Yan Yee Kwan) who wants to defeat Wong so he can gain respect in the community.

Tsui Hark takes all these little narrative plot threads and weaves them together into a tapestry that’s rich, lush, and breathtaking in terms of visual splendor, but ultimately slightly unfulfilling on a deeper level.

Tsui, who’s one of Hong Kong’s most gifted filmmakers, crafts some amazingly beautiful shots throughout the film—scenes where the simplicity of the action is counterbalanced by the choice of action, an assured camera movement, or a stunning use of color are frequently found in OUaTiC, and that’s one of the film’s saving graces—it’s easy to forgive a few flaws when a film looks this stunning.

However, the flaws are there—and the most glaring of them is the film’s pace. Clocking in at just over two hours, this is a long film—particularly by Hong Kong standards, where action films generally clock in around an hour and a half. The problem here isn’t that the story is uninteresting, it’s simply that Tsui never gets beneath the surface. Instead of delving deep into the thematic material (which would justify the running time), Tsui pads the second act with a lot of needless comedy that only serves to make the film seem longer than necessary. Because of this, I found myself looking at my watch on several occasions—wondering when we’d get to the next action sequence.

The cast is excellent, particularly Li, who tackles the role of Wong with a real passion. The fact that his martial arts prowess is so amazing only heightens the performance. Rosamund Kwan is great as Aunt Yee—downplaying her obvious love for Wong in this installment, yet letting it show in small, subtle ways throughout the narrative (a great example of this is a scene where we watch as her hand tentatively caresses Wong’s head—the scene is shown as shadows on a wall, and is later revealed that she’s not actually touching Wong at all—just longing to as she moves her hand in order to make her shadow touch his).

Portly Kent Cheng turns up in a supporting role, as does Jackie Cheung, Yuen Biao, and Wu Ma. However, the real scene-stealer has to be Yan Yee Kwan. Iron Robe Yim is a fascinating character—far more complex than you’d expect, and never the single note bad guy you’d find in many other films. In fact, he’s not really a bad guy at all—just another throwback to an earlier time and different way of life, much like Wong himself. He vocalizes one of the driving themes of the film—that the old kung-fu can’t defeat hordes of westerners armed with guns.

Of course, what would a Jet Li film be without the action sequences? OuaTiC features less action than you’d expect, but what is there is fantastic. Li shines in several scenes, including one where he takes on a horde of enemies armed with only an umbrella. Wong uses the umbrella in nearly every way imaginable, striking down his adversaries with a grace and ease that’s simply beautiful to watch.

The coup de grace is the climax, though—an extended showdown between Wong and Iron Robe Yim, where the two battle back and forth on a series of ladders. There’s some breathtaking choreography here—and if you’re not impressed by this, then I don’t know why you’re watching martial arts films to begin with. Sure, it’s not as good as the showdown between Jackie Chan and Ken Lo at the end of Drunken Master 2, but it’s still pretty damn amazing.

In the end, Once Upon a Time in China is probably Jet Li’s best film overall. While the pace drags in spots, and the gwailo westerners are presented in the most xenophobic way possible (all of the foreigners are bad, save for a missionary priest, and he winds up dead), there’s still enough action to satisfy the kung-fu crowd, and enough social commentary to please those who like something to think about between the over-the-top action sequences. If you’ve never seen a Jet Li film, this is a good place to start—it’s got a little bit of everything…action, adventure, romance, and some excellently choreographed fight sequences. While it falls just short of unmitigated classic status, it’s still well worth a look.


Recommended:
Yes

Viewing Format: DVD
Video Occasion: Fit for Friday Evening