The Angry River (4 Stars)

Don't get too excited when you see Jackie Chan's name in the credits. As in all his early films, it was a very minor non-speaking role. If you blink you'll miss him.

"The Angry River" is a good film, although I didn't enjoy it as much as "Hapkido". It's Angela Mao's first film, and it's very different from the martial-arts films she would make afterwards.

Mao plays Lan Feng, whose father is poisoned by the villainous King Hell, and the only cure is a rare herb found in a remote mountain region. Lan Feng sets off to find it, encountering various dangers along the way. When she finally obtains the herb, she's temporarily deprived of her martial-arts abilities, but after returning home and discovering that her father has died, she takes the herb herself and regains her fighting skills.

Unfortunately, I didn't find the fights as impressive as those in Mao's later films. Even after she has regained her abilities, the action doesn't have the speed and impact of "Hapkido" or "Lady Whirlwind". That's understandable, since "The Angry River" was her first film and is much more of a traditional wuxia fantasy than the hard-hitting martial-arts films she would soon become known for.

It's also an historically important film. "The Angry River" was the first film made by Golden Harvest, although "The Invincible Eight" was released first. The cast and crew include several people who would become major figures in Hong Kong cinema, including Sammo Hung, Jackie Chan and Lam Ching-ying, while the action choreography was by the highly influential Han Ying-chieh.

Watching it now, it's fascinating to see Golden Harvest and Angela Mao right at the beginning of their careers. Only a few months after "The Angry River", Golden Harvest would release "The Big Boss", and Hong Kong cinema would change dramatically.

The film also has some wonderfully old-fashioned fantasy effects. I was particularly amused by the monster on the mountain. There's no mistaking that it's a man in a rubber costume, but somehow that only makes the scene more entertaining. It's the sort of thing that adds to the charm of an early-1970's wuxia film rather than spoiling it.

So "The Angry River" isn't my favourite Angela Mao film, but it's an enjoyable piece of Hong Kong cinema history and an interesting glimpse of both Mao and Golden Harvest before they became famous.

Lady Whirlwind (4 Stars)

I watched "Lady Whirlwind" tonight, having watched "Hapkido" yesterday. They're both Angela Mao films from 1972, although "Lady Whirlwind" was actually made first. The two films are also connected by the fact that Angela Mao, Sammo Hung and Hwang In-shik learned hapkido (the fighting style) while making it, before going on to make "Hapkido" (the film).

I didn't enjoy "Lady Whirlwind" as much as "Hapkido". The biggest problem for me is the story. There's a lot of confusion surrounding Tien's search for Shih-Hao. We eventually learn that Shih-Hao had abandoned Tien's pregnant sister, but his explanation is simply that circumstances forced him to leave her. What those circumstances were is never properly explained. It seems likely that Tung Ku was involved, but the film leaves us to work that out for ourselves.

I'm also not sure why Tien goes to the casino looking for Shih-Hao. She seems to believe that the casino owner and Tung Ku are hiding him, but the film never makes it clear why she thinks this. It's the sort of thing that probably made sense to the filmmakers, but they're unable to explain it to the viewer.

Fortunately, the fight scenes are good enough to make up for the film's shortcomings. There's plenty of action and some excellent martial-arts choreography. Angela Mao is good, although her fighting skills aren't as prominently displayed as they are in "Hapkido". Hwang In-shik and Sammo Hung also add plenty to the action.

So "Lady Whirlwind" works better for me as a martial-arts film than as a story. The action makes it worth watching, but I found the plot much less satisfying than "Hapkido".

Hapkido (5 Stars)

Last week I bought two box sets of films starring Angela Mao. Six films, and I have to start somewhere, so "Hapkido" is a wonderful place to start. I'm working my way through the films, and after seeing this one I'm already looking forward to the other five.

The film introduces us to three capable martial artists, Kao Chang (Carter Wong), Fan Wei (Sammo Hung) and Ying (Angela Mao). They're all good fighters, but Ying is clearly the best, and that's established right at the beginning during the training sequence. It's a nice touch, because the later fights live up to what we've already been shown. Angela Mao is excellent, and the action is terrific throughout.

My only slight criticism is the introduction of Ying's Head Brother about twenty minutes before the end. By that stage the film has already established its main characters and story, so bringing in an important new character so late feels rather awkward.

That's a minor blemish, though. Hapkido is an exciting, beautifully staged martial-arts film and, for me, it's almost perfect.

Who likes lobby cards? I miss them.

Look at the following poster. I'm amused by the tagline, "Don't let your girlfriend see this film". At first I thought it meant that she'd be jealous if I sat for 90 minutes ogling the beautiful Angela Mao. But it's probably a warning that my girlfriend would follow Angela's example and beat me up. Maybe both.

Dragon Fist (5 Stars)

Who's that boy? It's Jackie Chan at the tender age of 23. 

"Dragon Fist" was made at a fascinating point in Jackie Chan's career. It wasn't released until 1979, but it was filmed earlier. Producer and director Lo Wei was still attempting to turn him into the next Bruce Lee. There's no comedy in "Dragon Fist", no elaborate use of furniture and household objects and very little of the playful personality that would become his trademark. Instead, Jackie plays his role completely straight. The result isn't typical Jackie Chan, but it proves that he was already an exceptional martial artist who didn't need comedy to make his fight scenes exciting.

Jackie plays Tang Hao-Yun, a young martial arts student devoted to his master, San Thye. When San Thye is challenged by a rival martial arts master, Chung Chien-kuen, the encounter ends in tragedy. San Thye is defeated and killed. Chung isn't simply presented as an evil man, however. He has his own reasons for what he does and subsequently regrets the consequences of his actions. This immediately makes "Dragon Fist" more interesting than a conventional revenge story in which a hero merely has to track down and kill the villain.

Tang Hao-Yun spends years training, determined to become strong enough to avenge his master's death. When he finally finds Chung, accompanied by his master's widow and daughter, he expects the confrontation that he's been preparing for. Instead, he discovers a man who has been living with remorse. Chung has effectively punished himself for what he did and refuses to defend himself when Tang attacks him. Tang has trained for years to defeat a dangerous enemy, but what satisfaction can there be in beating a man who won't fight back?

This creates a moral problem for Tang. His loyalty to his dead master demands revenge, but the situation is no longer as simple as he expected. The man he has hated for years isn't the monster he imagined. Even his master's widow recognises Chung's remorse. Revenge has ceased to be a straightforward question of justice.

The story becomes more complicated when Tang becomes involved with another martial arts clan. Its leader, Wei, appears to offer friendship and assistance, particularly when Wei learns that Tang's mother is seriously ill and requires medicine. Tang agrees to perform tasks for Wei in exchange for the medicine, but he's being manipulated. Wei has his own ambitions and uses Tang's loyalty, fighting ability and desperation to further them. Tang gradually finds himself working for people whose motives are considerably less honourable than they initially appeared.

This is where "Dragon Fist" moves away from the simple revenge plot promised by its opening scenes. Tang begins the film believing that he knows exactly who his enemy is. As the story progresses, the distinction between friend and enemy becomes increasingly blurred. The man Tang wants to kill may deserve forgiveness, while the people offering to help him are exploiting him. Honour, loyalty, revenge and obligation pull him in different directions.

The plot is sometimes difficult to follow. Characters change sides, motives aren't always explained clearly and the large number of martial arts masters and their followers can make it difficult to remember who belongs to which group. Nevertheless, I prefer this complexity to a simple story about good men fighting bad men. There are villains in "Dragon Fist", but the film's central conflict isn't black and white. Tang has to decide for himself what honour actually means rather than blindly following the demands of revenge.

And then there are the fights.

Anyone who only knows the Jackie Chan of "Police Story", "Project A" or the "Rush Hour" films might be surprised by what they see here. There's nothing funny about the fighting in "Dragon Fist". Jackie doesn't stumble around pretending to be helpless before suddenly defeating his opponent. He doesn't turn chairs, ladders or tables into weapons. The choreography is hard, fast and direct, belonging firmly to the traditional kung fu films of the 1970s.

Jackie is spectacular.

It's sometimes suggested that the comedy in Jackie's later films was used to disguise his limitations as a martial artist. Quite the opposite. The comedy worked because he already possessed extraordinary physical ability. "Dragon Fist" gives him an opportunity to demonstrate this without any distractions. His movements are precise, his kicks are powerful and the lengthy exchanges allow him to display both speed and control. Even at 23 he looks completely convincing as a serious fighter.

The film is also interesting historically because it captures Jackie at the moment when two possible careers were competing with one another. Lo Wei wanted him to inherit Bruce Lee's mantle as a stern martial arts hero. At approximately the same time, films such as "Snake in the Eagle's Shadow" and "Drunken Master" were demonstrating that Jackie could become something entirely different. Those films allowed his humour and personality to emerge, eventually creating the Jackie Chan that the world knows today.

In retrospect, Lo Wei was taking Jackie in the wrong direction. There could never be another Bruce Lee, and Jackie became a much bigger star once he stopped trying to be one. But that doesn't mean the serious Jackie Chan was a failure. "Dragon Fist" proves the opposite. If Jackie had continued making straight martial arts dramas, he could have had a successful career doing that as well. We would simply have been deprived of everything that later made him unique.

"Dragon Fist" isn't one of Jackie's most famous films, and its complicated plot occasionally works against it, but I enjoyed it considerably more than I expected. The moral ambiguity gives the story more substance than the usual revenge tale, while the fight scenes show a side of Jackie Chan that disappeared as his comic persona developed.

Jackie Chan didn't become the next Bruce Lee. "Dragon Fist" demonstrates that he probably could have spent his career trying. Fortunately, he chose to become the first Jackie Chan.

Police Story 4: First Strike (3 Stars)

"Police Story 4: First Strike" (1996) is a strange entry in Jackie Chan's most famous series because it barely resembles a Police Story film at all. The gritty Hong Kong police work of the previous films has disappeared, replaced by an international spy adventure involving the CIA, Russian agents, nuclear warheads and globe-trotting locations from Ukraine to Australia. It's closer to a light-hearted James Bond film than anything suggested by the title.

The biggest problem is the screenplay. Jackie spends the film chasing one person after another, yet it's surprisingly difficult to understand who's working for whom. Double-crosses, secret agents and smugglers are introduced so quickly that the story becomes little more than an excuse to move Jackie from one spectacular stunt to the next. Even by the end, many viewers may struggle to explain exactly why half the fights happened.

Fortunately, Jackie Chan's action choreography is as inventive as ever. The ladder fight in the warehouse is one of his greatest comic action sequences, the underwater shark encounter is unforgettable and the film rarely goes more than a few minutes without another dazzling stunt. Stanley Tong directs the action with tremendous energy, even if the plot never catches up.

"First Strike" is entertaining if you stop worrying about the story and simply enjoy Jackie Chan risking his life for your amusement. As a spy thriller it barely makes sense. As a Police Story film it feels completely out of place. It's an action spectacle held together almost entirely by the charisma and athletic brilliance of its star.

Thunderbolt (3 Stars)

Please don't get this film confused with "Thunderbolts", which I watched last week. "Thunderbolt" is a Hong Kong sports film starring Jackie Chan, made in 1995.

It's one of Chan's strangest films because it sidelines the very thing that made him famous. Instead of wall to wall martial arts, the film spends most of its running time on high speed car racing, leaving fans waiting far too long for the action they came to see.

Chan plays Chan Foh To, a gifted mechanic whose driving skills attract the attention of both the police and an infamous street racer known as Cougar. After helping the authorities catch a criminal, Foh To becomes the target of Cougar's revenge. The ruthless racer kidnaps Foh To's sisters and forces him into a series of increasingly dangerous races, knowing that defeat could cost innocent lives.

The film builds towards a climactic race rather than a climactic fight. The final showdown is an extended, high stakes motorsport spectacle featuring exotic cars, spectacular crashes and dangerous stunts. The racing is undeniably well executed, but it leaves martial arts fans short changed. Apart from a handful of brief fights scattered throughout the film, Jackie Chan has surprisingly little opportunity to showcase the acrobatic combat that made him an international star.

Viewed purely as a racing thriller, "Thunderbolt" is entertaining and technically accomplished. Viewed as a Jackie Chan film it's a disappointment. The cars get far more screen time than Chan's fists, making it one of the least satisfying entries in his Hong Kong career for fans of his trademark action style.

That's three films in a row that I've watched which star Jackie Chan. I'm taking a short break now. I already know what I'm going to watch next, because the Blu-ray is already in my player. You'll have to wait until tomorrow to find out what it is.

Rumble In The Bronx (4½ Stars)

"Rumble in the Bronx" (1995) is the film that finally made Jackie Chan a star in America, even though it was originally made for the Hong Kong market. New Line Cinema gave it a wide US release in 1996, and audiences who'd never seen Chan before were amazed by his breath-taking stunts, acrobatic fight scenes and effortless comic timing. Overnight, Hollywood realised it had been ignoring one of the world's greatest action stars.

The film itself is surprisingly uneven. It takes almost half an hour to get going, with too much dull chatter and a paper thin plot before the action really kicks in. Even then, much of its version of New York feels like a collection of Chinese stereotypes about America, complete with cartoonish street gangs and exaggerated culture clashes. Fortunately, once Jackie gets moving, the film comes alive. The spectacular shopping centre fight, rooftop leaps and the unforgettable hovercraft chase in the streets of New York are among the most inventive action scenes of the decade. "Rumble in the Bronx" may not be Jackie Chan's best film, but it was the one that finally introduced his extraordinary talents to America, and cinema was better for it.

Drunken Master 2 (5 Stars)

Despite its title, "Drunken Master 2" (1994) isn't a sequel to "Drunken Master" (1978). The only connection is that Jackie Chan is once again playing the legendary folk hero Wong Fei-Hung and using the famous "drunken boxing" style. The stories are completely unrelated, the tone is different and even the characterisation of Wong Fei-Hung has changed. In the original film, Wong is a mischievous teenager learning discipline from the eccentric Beggar So. Here, he's an accomplished martial artist whose greatest challenge comes not from learning kung fu but from balancing respect for tradition with doing what's morally right.

Set in early twentieth century China during the final years of the Qing Dynasty, the film takes place at a time when foreign powers were exploiting the country's political weakness. Rather than telling a simple revenge story, "Drunken Master 2" uses this historical backdrop to explore the theft of China's cultural treasures by corrupt officials and foreign interests. National pride runs throughout the film, but it never overwhelms the action or the humour.

What sets "Drunken Master 2" apart is Jackie Chan's astonishing physical performance. Every fight builds on the last, combining comedy, breath-taking acrobatics and bone crunching stunt work with almost impossible precision. The final battle against Ken Lo is one of the greatest martial arts fights ever filmed, ending with a spectacular sequence in a steelworks that pushes Chan's willingness to risk serious injury to unbelievable levels.

More than thirty years later, "Drunken Master 2" remains the high point of Jackie Chan's career. It's not a true sequel to "Drunken Master", but it surpasses the original in almost every way. Funny, exhilarating and technically astonishing, it's one of the greatest martial arts films ever made and the film that finally convinced the world that Jackie Chan was a once in a generation talent.

Dragons Forever (4 Stars)

There's an irony in the film's title that might not be obvious to modern viewers. It's not just an exciting name for an action film. In reality, it's a tribute to Jackie Chan, Sammo Hung and Yuen Biao, the legendary "Three Dragons" of Hong Kong cinema. Having trained together at the China Drama Academy under Master Yu Jim-yuen, the trio spent years redefining martial arts films with their unique blend of breath-taking stunts, comedy and flawless fight choreography. The title suggests that the Three Dragons would make films together forever.

However, "Dragons Forever" was the last film to feature all three stars together in leading roles. Although they continued to collaborate in different combinations, this was the end of an extraordinary partnership that had dominated Hong Kong action cinema throughout the 1980s.

The film cleverly avoids making its heroes instant friends. Jackie plays a charming lawyer working for a corrupt chemical company, Sammo is a scruffy private investigator, and Yuen is an eccentric inventor whose bizarre gadgets rarely behave as intended. Their conflicting personalities create plenty of comedy before circumstances force them to unite against a common enemy.

As always, each Dragon brings something different. Jackie supplies his effortless charisma and fearless stunt work, Sammo provides both the comic timing and the emotional heart of the story, while Yuen reminds audiences why he's one of the greatest physical performers the genre has ever produced. Together, they create a chemistry that no other trio has ever matched.

The plot, involving industrial pollution and corporate corruption, is stronger than many Hong Kong action comedies of the period, but it's really just a framework for spectacular action. The unforgettable finale, culminating in Jackie's ferocious showdown with Benny Urquidez, ranks among the finest fight sequences ever filmed.

Looking back, "Dragons Forever" feels like a fitting farewell. Its title turned out to be prophetic. The Three Dragons may never have headlined another film together, but their influence has never disappeared. Their films continue to inspire filmmakers and thrill audiences around the world. In that sense, the dragons really are forever.

Righting Wrongs (5 Stars)

If you've ever wondered whether Yuen Biao deserves to stand alongside Jackie Chan and Sammo Hung, "Righting Wrongs" is the answer. Corey Yuen's brutal vigilante thriller gives Biao the chance to prove he isn't just an incredible martial artist; he's arguably the greatest acrobat Hong Kong cinema has ever produced.

Like Jackie Chan, Biao performs every stunt himself, with astonishing speed and absolute commitment. He flips through windows, dives between moving vehicles, crashes through glass and launches himself into gravity-defying aerial manoeuvres that still look unbelievable today because they're real. There's no CGI, just breath-taking athleticism and fearless stunt work. His movements are so fluid that even the most dangerous sequences seem effortless.

Then there's Cynthia Rothrock, who more than holds her own. Rather than simply playing the token female action star, she's presented as an equal. Her crisp karate techniques perfectly complement Biao's acrobatic kung fu, creating one of Hong Kong cinema's greatest hero versus hero fights. Rothrock's kicks are lightning fast, her timing is impeccable and her screen presence is commanding. She also gets a spectacular showdown with Karen Sheperd, making this one of the rare 1980's action films where the women deliver some of the movie's best fights.

The plot, about a prosecutor driven to vigilantism after the legal system fails, is darker than most Hong Kong action films of the period and becomes increasingly ruthless as it builds towards its famously bleak finale. Comedy appears occasionally, but the film never loses its hard edge.

"Righting Wrongs" isn't remembered because of its story. It's remembered because it contains some of the finest martial arts choreography and practical stunt work ever filmed. Yuen Biao and Cynthia Rothrock perform at the very top of their game, creating an action classic that leaves modern productions looking tame.

The Holy Virgin vs the Evil Dead (4 Stars)

There are cult films, there are cinematic oddities, and then there's "Holy Virgin vs the Evil Dead", a gloriously unhinged slice of Hong Kong supernatural cinema that seems determined to throw every outrageous idea at the screen. The result is a film that's messy, wildly inconsistent and almost impossible to forget.

The story combines Taoist magic, vampires, ghosts, zombies, black magic and martial arts into a single chaotic package. Logic is sacrificed in favour of spectacle, with one bizarre set piece following another at a relentless pace. The film rarely slows down long enough for the audience to question what's happening before introducing another monster, magical duel or outrageous plot twist.

What makes the film so entertaining is its refusal to play by any conventional rules. Horror, slapstick comedy and fantasy action collide throughout, creating the kind of manic energy that defined many low-budget Hong Kong productions of the late 1980's and early 1990's. The special effects are charmingly primitive by modern standards, relying on practical tricks, wire work and energetic performances rather than digital effects. The rough edges only add to the film's appeal.

The performances embrace the madness with complete sincerity. Nobody seems concerned about realism; every actor commits wholeheartedly to the increasingly absurd situations. That commitment helps transform what could have been an incoherent mess into something strangely infectious.

Viewed as a conventional horror film, "Holy Virgin vs the Evil Dead" has obvious flaws. The plot barely holds together, character development is minimal and tonal shifts can be dizzying. But those are also the qualities that have earned it a loyal cult following. Fans of Hong Kong genre cinema appreciate its fearless imagination and willingness to ignore every filmmaking rule in pursuit of entertainment.

It's not a polished classic, it's an unforgettable curiosity. If you enjoy supernatural martial arts films, over-the-top practical effects and wonderfully unpredictable storytelling, "Holy Virgin vs the Evil Dead" offers a delirious ride unlike almost anything else. It's exactly the kind of wonderfully eccentric film that rewards cult cinema enthusiasts willing to embrace its glorious insanity.

The Legend of Fong Sai Yuk 2 (4½ Stars)

While "The Legend of Fong Sai Yuk" is remembered as one of the great martial arts comedies of the 1990's, "The Legend of Fong Sai Yuk 2" takes a noticeably different approach. Although it reunites Jet Li with director Corey Yuen and retains the dazzling action that made the original such a success, the sequel shifts away from broad comedy and romantic adventure towards a more serious patriotic drama. The result is a film that feels less playful but more emotionally driven.

The first film balanced spectacular kung fu with slapstick humour, outrageous misunderstandings and an almost screwball romance. Much of its charm came from Fong Sai Yuk's youthful recklessness, his attempts to win the heart of Ting Ting and the hilarious relationship between his parents, especially his formidable mother. Even the elaborate fight scenes often had a comic edge, turning martial arts into a form of physical comedy.

The sequel largely abandons that tone. Instead, Fong becomes involved with the Red Flower Society, an underground resistance movement dedicated to overthrowing the Qing dynasty. Political intrigue replaces romantic confusion and the story carries genuine emotional weight as questions of loyalty, sacrifice and patriotism come to the forefront. The stakes are considerably higher than in the original, giving the film a more mature atmosphere.

Jet Li adapts effortlessly to this change in tone. His Fong Sai Yuk is still energetic and charismatic but has become a more responsible and determined hero. Rather than simply reacting to outrageous situations, he is forced to make difficult moral choices, making the character feel as though he has genuinely grown since the first film.

The action remains exceptional. Corey Yuen stages another series of inventive martial arts sequences, filled with speed, precision and astonishing athleticism. The choreography is slightly less whimsical than before, favouring fast, intense combat over comic invention. The climactic battles are among the most impressive of Jet Li's early Hong Kong career, combining graceful wirework with bone-crunching hand-to-hand combat.

The supporting cast also reflects the film's changing priorities. While Fong's mother still provides flashes of humour and proves once again to be one of Hong Kong cinema's greatest action heroines, the comic family dynamics take a back seat to the larger political conflict. The villains are darker, the betrayals more personal and the emotional consequences far more significant than in the first film.

Viewed on its own, "The Legend of Fong Sai Yuk 2" is an outstanding martial arts adventure that successfully broadens the scope of its predecessor. Those expecting another carefree action comedy may initially be surprised by its more serious direction, but the stronger dramatic focus gives the sequel an identity of its own rather than simply repeating the original formula. Together, the two films complement each other perfectly; one celebrates youthful exuberance and romance, while the other explores courage, loyalty and sacrifice without ever sacrificing the breath-taking action that defines the series.

The Legend of Fong Sai Yuk (4½ Stars)

Few martial arts films capture the sheer joy of Hong Kong action cinema as perfectly as "The Legend of Fong Sai Yuk". directed by Corey Yuen in 1993. Starring Jet Li at the peak of his abilities, the film combines dazzling fight choreography, broad comedy and memorable characters into one of the most entertaining kung fu adventures of the 1990's.

Loosely based on the legendary Chinese folk hero Fong Sai Yuk, the story follows a gifted young martial artist whose impulsive nature repeatedly gets him into trouble. Jet Li brings an infectious charm to the role, balancing heroic swagger with comic timing. Unlike many martial arts heroes of the era, Fong is neither brooding nor solemn. He's playful, mischievous and constantly finding himself in absurd situations.

The film's greatest strength is undoubtedly its action. Corey Yuen's choreography is nothing short of extraordinary, blending traditional kung fu with acrobatic stunts and inventive visual gags. Every fight sequence feels unique, whether it's a chaotic street brawl, a duel fought under impossible circumstances or the legendary tournament sequence that has become one of the defining action scenes of Hong Kong cinema. The performers execute astonishingly complex moves with a speed and precision that still impresses more than three decades later. Even viewers who have seen countless martial arts films will find themselves amazed by the creativity on display.

Another aspect that sets "The Legend of Fong Sai Yuk" apart is its treatment of female characters. The women aren't merely spectators or romantic interests; many of them are formidable fighters in their own right. The standout is Josephine Siao's Miu Tsui-fa, Fong's mother, who is every bit as skilled, fearless and entertaining as her son. Her action scenes rank among the film's best, and she often steals the spotlight from Jet Li himself. At a time when many action films relegated women to supporting roles, The Legend of Fong Sai Yuk presents female fighters as genuine equals.

One of the film's most unusual elements is the romantic subplot between Miu Tsui-fa and Xiaohuan. While disguised as a male martial artist, Miu Tsui-fa encounters Xiaohuan in combat, and the younger woman becomes captivated by the stranger's fighting skill and heroic bearing. The resulting romance is played largely for comedy, but it remains surprisingly affectionate. Long before homosexual themes became common in mainstream action cinema, "The Legend of Fong Sai Yuk" devoted a substantial portion of its running time to a woman falling in love with another woman, albeit under a mistaken identity. The subplot adds another layer of charm to a film already overflowing with personality.

The film's blend of spectacular action, strong female characters and unconventional humour gives it a unique personality. It never pauses for heavy drama or historical realism. Instead, it embraces entertainment in its purest form, delivering one inventive set piece after another while maintaining an infectious sense of fun.

More than thirty years after its release, "The Legend of Fong Sai Yuk" remains one of the crown jewels of Hong Kong martial arts cinema. With Jet Li's star-making performance, Corey Yuen's breath-taking choreography, a cast of unforgettable female fighters and an unexpectedly charming same-sex romance subplot, it's a film that continues to delight audiences and stands as one of the finest action-comedies ever made.

The Furious (5 Stars)

Today I saw the German premiere of "The Furious". My short spoiler-free review can hardly do it justice. The film is amazing. In trailers it's been compared with "The Raid" (I assume they really mean "The Raid 2"). To me that sounded like typical promotional hype, but within a few minutes I had to admit that the comparison is valid.

The film follows two men who join forces to fight a people trafficking gang. One is Wang Wei, a man whose daughter has been kidnapped. The other is Navin, the husband of a reporter who disappeared while investigating the gang.

That's all I'm telling you. Now sit back and enjoy the action.

Heroes Two (5 Stars)

"Heroes Two" is one of the key films in director Chang Cheh's Shaolin cycle for the Shaw Brothers studio. On the surface it's a straightforward kung fu adventure, but it's built around Chinese folk legends connected to the fall of the Ming Dynasty and resistance against the Qing rulers.

The film opens after the destruction of the Shaolin Temple. Qing government forces, often referred to in the film as Manchus, have burned the temple and massacred most of its defenders. One of the few survivors is the famous martial artist Hung Hsi Kuan, who escapes and becomes part of an underground resistance movement.

The Qing authorities desperately want to capture Hung because he's become a symbol of resistance. General Che Kang, a ruthless Qing commander and skilled fighter, organises a manhunt.

Meanwhile, another Shaolin fighter, Fong Sai Yuk, wanders through the countryside. Fong is immensely talented but impulsive and naïve. Che Kang quickly realises that Fong doesn't know the full political situation and tricks him into believing that Hung is merely a dangerous criminal.

The deception works. Fong tracks down Hung and, after a fierce fight, helps the Qing forces capture him. Word soon spreads through the resistance movement that Fong has betrayed a Shaolin hero. The rebels confront him and reveal the truth: Hung is actually fighting against Qing oppression and the people Fong has been helping are the real villains.

Horrified by what he's done, Fong decides to rescue Hung. His first attempts fail because General Che Kang is an accomplished martial artist himself. Eventually Fong joins forces with the resistance fighters, who devise a plan to tunnel into the prison where Hung is being held.

The film is based on a famous body of Chinese folklore surrounding the alleged destruction of a southern Shaolin Temple during the early Qing Dynasty. According to legend, the Manchu rulers feared that Shaolin monks and Ming loyalists were plotting rebellion. The temple was supposedly attacked and burned, with only a handful of masters escaping. These survivors then spread martial arts throughout southern China and founded many famous kung fu styles.

Fong Sai Yuk and Hung Hsi Kuan are both major figures in southern Chinese martial arts mythology and appear in countless novels, operas and films. Later audiences may know Fong Sai-yuk best from "Fong Sai Yuk", in which he was played by Jet Li.

New Shaolin Boxers (4 Stars)

"New Shaolin Boxers" stands out in the crowded kung fu landscape by building its identity around a specific fighting style rather than a revenge plot or nationalist theme. The story follows Zhong Jian, a well-meaning but naïve young man whose habit of helping everyone he meets repeatedly lands him in trouble; it's a simple character hook, but one that allows the film to explore growth through discipline rather than trauma.

What really defines the film is its focus on the fighting style Choy Li Fut. Unlike the tighter, more upright styles often seen in Shaw Brothers productions, Choy Li Fut is broad, circular and aggressive. The movements emphasise wide swinging strikes, long-range attacks and continuous motion; punches arc rather than snap, and the body is constantly turning, generating power through rotation. On screen, that gives the fights a sense of momentum that feels almost unruly, as if the combatants are carried forward by their own energy.

The choreography leans into these qualities. Instead of short, contained exchanges, the fights sprawl outward. Arms whirl, stances shift, and opponents are pressured from unexpected angles. There's less emphasis on elegance and more on overwhelming force. It suits Zhong Jian's personality early on; his instinct is to rush in and act, and Choy Li Fut's expansive techniques mirror that impulsiveness. As he matures, the same style begins to look more controlled, suggesting that discipline shapes not just the man but the way the art is expressed.

That connection between character and technique is where the film finds its voice. Zhong isn't learning a neutral system; he's learning how to channel something inherently chaotic. The film quietly argues that a martial art isn't just about technique, but about temperament. Choy Li Fut becomes a reflection of Zhong himself; powerful, well-intentioned, but potentially reckless without guidance.

The film's tone remains relatively light, especially compared with darker kung fu films of the era. There's humour in Zhong's misjudgements, and the narrative never sinks into cynicism. Still, the action carries weight precisely because of the style on display. Those sweeping strikes look dangerous; when they land, they feel decisive.

If there's a limitation, it's that the supporting cast doesn't leave much of an impression, and the plot sometimes feels like a loose framework for showcasing the fighting style. But in this case, that's almost the point. "New Shaolin Boxers" is less about story than about movement, rhythm, and the personality embedded in a martial tradition.

In the end, it's a film where style is character. By centring Choy Li Fut and tying it to Zhong Jian's growth, it offers something a bit different; not just a series of fights, but a study in how a way of fighting can shape, and be shaped by, the person using it.

The Trilogy of Swordsmanship (4 Stars)

"The Trilogy of Swordsmanship" is one of those rare anthology films where the structure isn't just a framing device; it's the point. Comprising three loosely connected tales of martial virtue, betrayal and mastery, the film uses its triptych format to explore what "swordsmanship" really means beyond technique. Each segment stands alone in plot, yet they echo one another in theme, creating a cumulative portrait of honour under pressure.

The connection between the three parts isn't narrative continuity so much as philosophical progression. The first story is almost classical; a young swordsman seeks mastery and learns that skill without discipline is hollow. The second complicates that idea; here, experience brings moral ambiguity, and the blade becomes a tool not of honour but survival. By the time we reach the third segment, the film turns inward; swordsmanship is no longer about defeating an opponent but about understanding oneself. Watched in sequence, the three parts feel like stages of a life, or even three possible paths diverging from the same code.

What's striking, especially for a 1972 production, is how the film handles its female characters. They aren't ornamental, nor are they simply victims orbiting male warriors. Instead, the film gives them agency in ways that subtly reshape each story. In the first segment, the woman at the centre isn't a prize to be won; she's a moral compass, forcing the protagonist to confront his own immaturity. In the second, female power becomes more direct and dangerous; a woman manipulates the social and emotional terrain with far more precision than any sword strike, exposing how fragile masculine codes of honour can be. By the third story, that power turns almost philosophical; the female presence embodies restraint and insight, contrasting with the restless violence of the male lead.

It's tempting to read this as progressive, though the film never quite escapes the conventions of its genre. The women still operate within a male-dominated world, and their influence is often indirect. Yet that indirectness is precisely where their strength lies; they don't need the sword to control its meaning. In a film obsessed with blades, they're the ones who redefine what power looks like.

Stylistically, the anthology format allows for variation without losing cohesion. Each segment has its own rhythm and visual tone, yet the direction ties them together through recurring imagery; duels framed against open landscapes, moments of stillness before violence, the ritualistic handling of the sword itself. These echoes reinforce the thematic links, making the transitions feel deliberate rather than arbitrary.

If there's a weakness, it's that the episodic nature can dilute emotional investment. Just as you begin to settle into one story, it ends. But that's also part of the design; the film isn't asking you to attach to characters so much as to ideas.

In the end, "The Trilogy of Swordsmanship" isn't about who wins or loses. It's about what remains when the fighting stops; and, crucially, who truly understands the cost. The answer, more often than not, lies with the women who never needed to draw a blade in the first place.

The Eight Hundred (3 Stars)

"The Eight Hundred" is a spectacle that's easy to admire and harder to fully love. Directed by Guan Hu, it dramatises the defence of the Sihang Warehouse during the early stages of the Second Sino-Japanese War; 452 Chinese soldiers hold out against 20,000 Japanese forces for four days while watched by civilians across the river. It’s a premise loaded with tension and moral weight, and at its best, the film delivers both in bursts of striking intensity.

Visually, it’s often astonishing. Shot for IMAX, the scale is overwhelming; explosions tear through the warehouse, bodies pile up in grimly choreographed waves, and the Suzhou Creek becomes a symbolic divide between courage and complacency. There’s a raw physicality to the combat that recalls "Saving Private Ryan", though without quite matching its emotional precision. The sound design, too, is thunderous and immersive; you don’t just watch the battle, you feel battered by it.

Where the film struggles is in its storytelling. For a narrative centred on sacrifice, the characters remain frustratingly indistinct. A handful of soldiers are given backstories or personality traits, but most blur into a collective mass of heroism. Compare that to the careful individualisation in "Dunkirk", where even minimal dialogue is enough to carve out distinct identities; here, the emotional stakes feel diluted because you're rarely anchored to a single perspective for long.

The film's cross-river structure – soldiers fighting on one side, civilians observing on the other – is a compelling idea that never quite coheres. The civilian scenes often drift into melodrama or symbolism that feels heavy-handed, undercutting the immediacy of the battle. A more disciplined intercutting approach, or a tighter focus on one or two civilian characters, might have created a stronger emotional bridge between the two worlds.

There's also a tonal inconsistency that holds it back. At times, "The Eight Hundred" leans into gritty realism; at others, it embraces near-mythic patriotism, complete with slow-motion hero shots and swelling music. Neither approach is inherently flawed, but the film doesn't reconcile them. A clearer commitment to one tone, or a more careful blending of the two, would have made the narrative feel less conflicted.

If it could be improved, the most obvious change would be a sharper focus on character. Following a smaller core group of soldiers, giving them clearer arcs, and allowing quieter moments between the chaos would heighten the impact of their eventual sacrifices. The battle scenes are already powerful; what's missing is the emotional thread that makes those scenes linger.

Even so, it remains an impressive achievement. Few modern war films attempt this scale, and fewer still sustain it for over two hours. It's a film that commands respect, even as it leaves you wishing it had trusted its human story as much as its spectacle.

Success Rate:  + 3.8

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The Wandering Swordsman (4 Stars)

"The Wandering Swordsman" is a lively martial arts adventure from the golden age of the Shaw Brothers studio. Directed by Chang Cheh and starring David Chiang, the film blends wandering-hero mythology, fast-paced swordplay and a slightly playful tone that distinguishes it from the director's more solemn works.

David Chiang plays Yu Hsiao, a cheerful but formidable swordsman who roams the countryside helping those in need. When he becomes involved with a group of travelling performers and refugees, he learns that a ruthless warlord is oppressing the local population. Yu's sense of justice draws him into the conflict, and his easy-going personality gradually gives way to fierce determination as the violence escalates.

Unlike many of Chang Cheh's later heroic bloodshed tales, the film begins with a surprisingly light touch. Yu Hsiao is a relaxed and occasionally humorous protagonist; he drinks, jokes and drifts from place to place without much concern for consequences. This carefree attitude gives the early sections a breezy charm, and it makes the eventual confrontations feel more dramatic when the hero's patience finally runs out.

The action sequences are energetic rather than elaborate. The choreography emphasises speed and physicality, with David Chiang's agile performance carrying much of the excitement. While the fights do not reach the operatic intensity of some later Shaw Brothers productions, they remain satisfying and clearly staged.

Visually, the film displays the colourful studio style typical of Shaw Brothers productions of the period. Bright costumes, theatrical sets and bold lighting create a stylised world that feels closer to traditional Chinese storytelling than to realism. The wandering-hero theme also echoes classic wuxia literature, presenting Yu Hsiao as a knight-errant who follows his own moral code rather than any official authority.

Although "The Wandering Swordsman" lacks the tragic weight found in some of Chang Cheh's most famous films, it remains an engaging entry in the wuxia genre. Its combination of humour, wandering adventure and bursts of action makes it an enjoyable showcase for David Chiang's charismatic screen presence. For fans of Shaw Brothers cinema, it offers a pleasant variation on the director's usual themes while still delivering the heroic spirit that defines his work.

Trail of the Broken Blade (4½ Stars)

This is a beautiful film that shows loyalty and honour in the Ming period. Men and women do what is right, not what is pleasant or easy.

The warrior Fang Jun saves a family under attack. The father asks him to teach his daughter Liu Chen martial arts so that she can defend herself, but he's really hoping to find a husband for her. Fang falls in love with her, but she says she loves someone else. Her lover Li Yueh has killed a corrupt government official to avenge his father's death. He's now a wanted criminal, so he's run away and taken on a new identity. Fang promises to find him and reunite the lovers.

Li Yueh is living as a poor stable-hand. The innkeeper's daughter falls in love with him, but he refuses her advances, because he's still in love with Liu Chen, even though he never expects to see her again. By coincidence – one of the many coincidences in the film – Fang comes to stay at the inn and becomes friends with Li Yueh, not knowing who he is. Their friendship becomes closer when they have to fight against common enemies.

It's not a love triangle, it's a love square. Maybe a broken square. Whatever it is, it's obvious from the beginning of the film that it will end in tragedy.