Don't Ruin Your Reputation For Petty Gains: The Five Venoms (1978)

I decided to jam one last Shaw Brothers film onto my month of kung fu films, because, after all, they are the premier names in the realm of the martial arts work, indeed carrying the same weight Sirk does with the melodrama, Powell and Pressburger do with Technicolor and Ford does with the Western.  All of the aforementioned directors had moments in their career where they took considerable risks cinematically, choices that existed within their genre/style associations, while also twisting them in new and unique ways.  While they were often met with hesitation they also produced captivating and new ways in which to understand a previously cemented gorup of works.  I would argue that in The Five Venoms the Shaw Brothers approach the genre, for which they well established in at this point and decided to push it to grand proportions.  The Five Venoms is not a simple film, indeed the plot is considerably intricate despite its rather straightforward title, so much so that I will admit much of my recollection of the details of this film are heavily a result of scouring plot synopsis online prior to writing this blog post.  This audacious approach does pay off, considering that it is still incredibly watchable even if I found some, if not entire portions, narratively confusing and linearly uncertain.  I wholly embrace the work, because the Shaw Brothers dare to take a genre film and extend it to the grandest of proportions, indeed I would argue that The Five Venoms is the martial arts equivalent of something like Seven Samurai, where a work that had previously existed only in the realm of genre, moves into being grand, almost art house cinema.  Each moment of the winding and heavy plot of The Five Venoms plays into a larger consideration of loyalty, collective identity and deception that could make the most glorious of shogun samurai period pieces seem minor in breadth.  While I would be hard-pressed to consider this one of my favorite works of the marathon, I will concede to it being one of the more historically important.  It blows viewers over with information and narrative that extends through an undeclared amount of temporal space, never once back tracking (aside from affirming match cuts) to drive a message home.  The Five Venoms demands to be viewed with full attention and to be revisited many times.

The Five Venoms begins with the dying master of the infamous Poison clan explaining to its remaining student Yan Tieh (Chiang Sheng) that the previous five seniors of the dojo have come to make a less than positive name amongst themselves, although the master is rather certain that the infamy is resting on the actions of one or two of the former members.  Explaining to Yan that the five seniors have no identifiable names or traits, given their donning of masks, he goes about explaining the various techniques of the seniors in a hope that Yan will be able to incite them into betraying their secret identities through exposing their styles.  The five venoms of the title represent the animals with which each senior appropriates their style, which are the following: Centipede, Snake, Scorpion, Gecko and Toad.  The last one the Toad proving particularly interesting since nearly all of his skill is predicated upon his being seemingly invincible.  Yan Tieh, however, is not skilled enough in any of the styles to take on the members of the respective dojo, thus leading the master to suggest that he befriend one of the members that is not tied to the exploitation and use their skills to overcome their opponent. The remainder of the movie involves Yan Tieh moving through the city outside of the dojo and uncovering the layers of deception that involve the members of the former Poison clan discover in the process that it is specifically Snake and Scorpion who are of the highest point of trouble making in terms of ruthlessness.  As such, Yan Tieh moves to befriend both Gecko and Toad, realizing that Centipede is also tied to the criminal activity.  Yet, given the layers of communication occurring and the various skills and extensions of power possessed by the members, both good and bad, Toad is eventually killed through the brutal use of The Coat of a Thousand Needles.  After affirming Gecko's identity, Yan Tieh proceeds to create a plan of attack for the taking on of Snake and Scorpion, one that requires training and eventually flawless execution, but just as the Poison clan master predicted, Yan Tieh is able to fell the villainous members and end any further extension of a negative name upon the Poison clan.

I have mentioned in degrees of passing through the previous posts, particularly when discussing Riki-Oh: The Story of Ricky, the idea that one of the tropes within kung fu cinema appears to be the idea of body on display to be performed and performed upon.  I know this is what I just discussed concerning Mirageman, but here one can see it evolving in relation to the classical work of Shaw Brothers, relatively speaking of course.  I mean to say that there are multiple ways in which the body is put on display as well as theoretically considered.  Take for example Toad, he is the point of such masculine perfection as to be a battering ram that is incapable of overcoming, unless one is to be aware of his single weakness, which is place, not unintentionally in his eyes.  As an insurmountable force, he is apt not to listen to reason or budge, therefore the body and mind are distinctly separated in this context.  Similarly  this body on spectacle as a direct contradiction to the power of the mind, occurs with both Snake and Scorpion who are inclined to betray their identities, because both styles of martial arts require them to project their bodies in significant and highly personalized ways, therefore their body as power, requires them to reject the mental strains of stealth and secrecy.  It is indeed no small directorial choice to make Gecko a fighting style that predicates itself upon patience before striking, whereas Centipede and his intense "one thousand hands" attack is both sporadic and a barrage, but also so flailing and wild as to leave his mind exposed to the strikes of Gecko and Yan Tieh.  Indeed, it seems as though the film draws a clear line between issues of the over performed body, specifically that of the masculine and its ties to corruption and a willingness to do illegal, if not outright evil acts.  The narrative thus becomes a commentary on the importance of a well-rounded mind to match a physical prowess, because not only does it allow one to make consciously sound decisions, it also affords one the means to overpower those who might otherwise win off of brutish means alone.

Key Scene:  Opening montage is great, indeed, it might be its excellence that made getting into the slower pacing of the remainder of the film a tad more difficult.

This is worth renting before buy, not that it is outright bad, indeed it is quite good.  It might, however, prove a bit confusing upon a first viewing.

Even A Buddhist Must Conquer Evil: The 36th Chamber Of Shaolin (1978)

I can mark the occasions on my hand where watching a film that turned out to be more than I expected, even when going into it knowing it had a great reputation.  The film proves to exist in such a vacuum of cinematic perfection and narrative engagement as to radically alter my relatively entrenched set of "top ten film," which for the longest time consisted entirely of obvious classics.  Prior to yesterday, the only two films that proved to be a new degree of perfection were relatively recent cinematic offerings in 2011's Take Shelter and 2007's Secret Sunshine.  These films were so jarringly perfect as to rattle my understanding of cinema and cause me to alter how I had formulated a list of what I already thought consisted of largely perfect, if not near perfect moments in film.  I have in the course of the past year managed to catch up with a large amount of my cinematic blind spots, many of which were quite amazing, works like Rio Bravo and Born Yesterday were phenomenal, but also have a sense of classicism about them that allows me to understand their place in cinema, as well as temper my willingness to subvert my top ten list.  It is when I go into a film not expecting it to be wildly entertaining, profound and personally moving that I tend to have transcendental experiences.  My viewing of The 36th Chamber of Shaolin was one such occurrence.  A film that made the list on the kungu marathon entirely based on a recommendation by RZA on a website in which he listed his favorite kung fu films.  I had already viewed some of his recommendations earlier in the marathon and those he favored were quite enjoyable, however, this film exists in a class all its own, using a highly kinetic style that manages to temper itself throughout by including flares of the melodramatic, but with a decidedly Eastern touch.  I know it is tough to make a case for film, let alone a genre work, to be considered high art, but in terms of The 36th Chamber of Shaolin it is nothing short of cinematic mastery, both proving what is possible in the limits of a genre film, while also considering the larger ability of film to move people on a deep, almost spiritual level.  All of this loquacious rambling comes to one simpler idea, The 36th Chamber of Shaolin is a cool movie.

The 36th Chamber of Shaolin is a story that has surprisingly seen alterations in the form of early works in this marathon, indeed, Shaolin Temple is almost the same film on paper, focusing on a figure who is attempting to fight of the presence of imposing outside forces on his village.  In The 36th Chamber of Shaolin the figure is San Te (Chia Hui Liu) and the oppressive force is the Tartans, also known historically as the Mongols.  San Te is a young man who after attempting to defend his family from an aggressive attack by the Tartans is wounded and stows away in a shipment of lettuce.  This food is by chance delivered to the Shaolin temple, where it is revealed almost immediately that San Te has been transported.  Initially hesitant of his entrance into their sacred space, the head Abbot suggests that they take in the young man and train him in the ways of Shaolin, although they make certain that his training is as intensive, if not more, than his fellow disciples.  Initially San Te is wildly ambitious and hopes to begin in the 1st chamber of the Shaolin, only to discover that not only is he incapable of comprehending the enigmatic phrases of the highest monks, but that he also cannot grasp how a monk sitting down manages to knock him off his feet and across a foyer.  Accepting his need to start from the beginning, San Te works from the 35th chamber, which is a test of jumping over a set of floating logs before eating, to higher levels that teach him endurance, patience and awareness to the surroundings.  Indeed, San Te is initially quite confused as to why it takes him so long to learn even the fist and foot attacks of Shaolin, but as the various abbott's note, it is training that comes to a collective perfection, that is the backbone of Shaolin style.  After a run of success, San Te is appointed a position of leadership, much to the concern of another abbott, who demands that he can only earn his place after defeating him in a fight, after a few unsuccessful attempts with a bladed staff, San Te discover a new weapon by accidentally destroying a bamboo shoot.  This weapon affords him a win and the chance to choice a chamber with which he would like to oversee.  Not wanting to overstep his bounds, San Te suggest that he create a 36th chamber that is intended to train the citizens in basic Shaolin techniques, an idea that is dismissed and eventually leads to his being banished until he can exact a punishment involving obtaining devotions.  It is during his time outside that he comes to realize he can not only find a ton of willing participants for his new chamber, but that he can finally face the man who killed his father and countless other family and friends.  Using the self-defense based non-attacks of the style, San Te is still able to cause the man to kill himself with his own sword blade, a successful battle that is then followed by his return to the temple with rows of new monks, assumedly part o the new chamber he has created.

This film has tons of through lines involving commentaries on how to lead a proper life, many of which pull directly from the Buddhist religion where this film expressly borrows its narrative ideas.  The first and perhaps the most important narrative element seems to be an identification and embracing of humility.  San Te begins the film as a wild young man whose long hair and desire to exact justice lead to his being near-fataly wounded by the Tartan leader.  This, however, does not end his humility, because it is an act by a terrible person who used guile to assure the violence.  It is not until he is stifled by a resting abbott that San Te begins to even consider that he might need to put his privilege into check.  Indeed the 35th chamber of the Shaolin temple exists purely to teach this issue to its students, reinforcing the problems of assuming entitlement.  In this chamber their ability to eat is predicated upon possessing an unusual skill.  San Te cheats at first and attempts to ignore the rules to eat, because he has  not the humility to understand that eating is a privilege he had been afforded prior.  Once he learns this key element to transcendence, other elements become attainable.  Moving upward he learns the value of persistence and an understanding that while it is ideal to help other people in their movement towards their enlightenment it is necessary for them to experience their own trial and errors.  In more unusual moments throughout his training, San Te must understand the beauty and aid of learning a rhythm and methodology in relation to larger endeavors.  Indeed, fighting is not really an element of the Shaolin way, but instead learning to harness literal weight and metaphorical rage, into means to avoid death for those involved. One of the more hilarious scenes in the film involves San Te moving through the "head" chamber which is where he must repeatedly head butt sacks full of rocks and finish by offering a devotion to Buddha.  This may seem self-destructive but the overarching suggestion that such an approach takes on the attitude that one must literally be headstrong while also using their head to be intelligently sound is one of the major lessons he is able to extend to his prospective students when he is on force sabbatical from the temple.  In a bit of brilliance he comes to understand that training for Shaolin results in lessons that occur both in the confines of the chamber, as well as in daily engagements, suggesting that his newly added 36th chamber was not unprecedented, but indeed quite normal to the way the teachings of Shaolin evolve and extend beyond small, inclusive groups.

Key Scene:  It is tough to pick any singular chamber, because they are all so wonderful.  I personally liked the candle on the fulcrum sequence, but any of the moments could have been the key scene.

This is the best thing I have seen on bluray.  Hands down.  The added commentary by The RZA, which is highly informed and inquisitive is merely and extra incentive to get the film.

Must You Hide Behind The Image Of Another Man: Legend Of The Seven Golden Vampires (1974)

There are no shortage of genre hybrid films in the history of cinema, and given a push towards the digital/indie market in a more contemporary setting these, along with anthology films seem to be taking the market by surprise.  Many of these films are decidedly revisionist and while highly enjoyable also possess a degree of detached irony or situate themselves as a critique of one genre through the inclusion of the other.  I have no problem with this, but it takes a considerable amount of the cinematic zeal out of it when one becomes aware of the layers of commentary going on within the directors offering.  I, as such, assumed that genre hybrid films were always to be a thing I would pursue if in a particular mood or hoping for something completely off-the-wall, returning to Singing Cowboy films being a constant.  Yet, when creating my list for the kung fu marathon, I was recommended by a stalwart cinephile and purveyor of all things excellent to check out, amongst other things Legend of the Seven Golden Vampires.  Admittedly the name alone was enough to pique my interest, although I also assumed that it would be a film entirely entrenched within some of the more badly executed Chinese films of the seventies, ones that implode within their own excessiveness.  However, when I began watching the film and was given "A Hammer/Shaw Brothers Production" to read, I went crazy.  When one considers the genre of horror films, Hammer is the grandfather of all things gloriously macabre, whereas, an argument that the Golden Age of kung fu cinema began and ended with the work released by the producing brothers.  At first, it appears as though Legend of the Seven Golden Vampires will be nothing more than a cleverly edited film that is two distinctly different stories using the Hammer and Shaw names as a marketing ploy, but this fear is quickly squashed when the icons and bodies famous to the Gothic horror begin to interact with those of the Shaw Brother world, breaking visual boundaries through the space of genre, while also doing a surprising amount to ease racial and language based tensions during a time when foreign cinema, particularly that of the art house style, where reading subtitles was one of many concerns.  This intersection of crossover foreignness, even if decidedly Westernized represents a moment in cinema that is near impossible.  The fact that Legend of the Seven Golden Vampires  even exists is a feat all its own, the realization that it is also a great movie is simply a wonderful added benefit.

Legend of the Seven Golden Vampires, begins with a flashback to Transylvania in the early 19th century, as a shaman from China seeks out the castle where the infamous Dracula (John Forbes-Robertson) resides.  Finding him asleep in a mausoleum, the shaman is quickly horrified to discover not only that Dracula desires to come back to live, but that he also intends to use his body as a vessel, thus changing his appearance bend then affording himself the opportunity to find new bodies to feed off of in China.  After this prologue, viewers are introduced to Lawrence Van Helsing (Peter Cushing) who has taken up residence as a professor at a Chinese university, claiming that Dracula's influences have stretched to the Far East and have led to a set of vampires ruining the Chinese countryside.  Many of the students flippantly dismiss Van Helsing with the exception of Hsi Ching (David Chiang) who claims not only to have proof that the Seven Golden Vampires Van Helsing discusses exist, but that he and his brothers have been sworn to protect their villagers from the constant attacks of the undead monsters.  Requiring proof of this, Van Helsing travels with Hsi, and brings along his son  Lelyand Van Helsing (Robin Stewart) and a wealthy baroness named Vanessa Buren (Julie Edge) to finance the  trip.  The group eventually meet up with Hsi's siblings which include a variety of martial arts experts, including his sister Mai Kwei (Shih Szu) with whom Lelyand takes to liking.  While Van Helsing is driven by ambition to complete his mission, he is also aware of the dangers befalling anybody hoping to fight one, let alone, seven vampires.  The skills of Hsi and his siblings, nonetheless, proves high and they take out the vampires one by one, watching them melt away after being destroyed, Lelyand even throws his fists about in a pub fighting inspired version of martial arts, although he seems constantly concerned with his ability to protect his new love interest Mai.  Ultimately though, the villain still remains to be Dracula and as such it is Van Helsing who must confront him, demanding that he return to his original body before fighting him, eventually stabbing him with a spike and causing the count to decay in front of his eyes.  Exhausted, both physically and mentally, Van Helsing sighs, hopefully, having forever rid the world of Dracula's evil presence.

So what makes this work as a hybrid?  It is tricky to decide whether or not it is the nations varied influences that make this film work, or what they pull from the respective genres, but it seems simplest to suggest that it is a combination of both.  For example, the film clearly lifts its ambiance and costuming from the world of Hammer, the makeup of all involved carries that faded pastel look that made Hammer iconic, whether it be the sickly green of Dracula's face or the bright, yet florid blood that covers anybody dying or injured.  Furthermore, even when in pagodas the sense of the setting possesses the decadence, indicative of a Hammer film, right down to the seemingly inescapable amount of cobwebs covering the walls.  This is one element, the film seems more invested in the Shaw Brothers martial arts stylings when considering the editing and production of the film.  For example, there are a heavy amount of zoom-in and pan outs throughout the film, one notable one involving a beheaded frog, that capture the frenetic nature of the action of kung fu cinema, which are far less present in the slow-pacing moodiness of a Hammer film.  The two put together become nearly transcendental, playing off of one another much like a great improvisational jazz set.  Culturally the films seem to be a exercise in well-thought out symbiosis.  Take the dialogue interactions throughout the narrative.  Scenes between the British characters have the rat-a-tat-tat of choppy, loquacious British demeanor, while scenes involving the Chinese character, take on the drawn out waxing poetics of honor, family and identity that are very present within the genre.  At times, the two come together and you can witness the Chinese character playing with language in ways that would be more indicative of a Hammer film, whereas, Van Helsing at times will draw out his speech and ideas to represent the narrative leanings of a quest to become a master, in his case of killing Dracula.  These are only a few examples, issues of religion and fraternal bonds also emerge, wherein the two cultures ideas are initially separated, only to converge in the most thrilling of ways.

Key Scene:  When the fight starts involving vampire deaths, the movie's hybridity takes on a new level.  Never has a drawn out melting vampire shot felt so frantic.

The DVD is a bit pricy, but trust me this is more than worth the investment.