2. The Boxer From Shantung (1972) - Dir. Chang Cheh (with Pao Hsueh-li handling continuity)
I prefer to think of Chang Cheh’s The Boxer From Shantung as Once Upon a Time in Shanghai. The film is a classic tale of a poor coolly, Ma Yang Chen (Chen Kaun Tai in his breakout performance), who rises in power to be come a gang boss, and ultimately loses his life trying to uphold justice and honor in the criminal underworld. What separates Boxer from other similarly themed films, such as Scarface, Goodfellas, Casino, and others, is that Brother Ma’s downfall is not attributed to corruption, power, greed, drugs, or women. All too often, in the gangster films from the west, the protagonist is just as despicable and unlikable as any of the other lowlife thugs, and I often find it hard to sympathize with them - most of the time I want them to suffer for the hell they have put their friends and family through. Brother Ma, on the other hand, is a man swimming in honor, and although he fights to gain wealth and prestige, he always treats people with the respect they deserve regardless of status – he is a righteous man.
Chen Kuan Tai’s performance is astounding, and his portrayal as the poor, down and out Ma makes for an engaging experience. Ma is full of pride, almost to a fault – he will not take handouts (even when starving). He does not stoop down to pick up money, nor will he bow to those who do not deserve it. When he first meets Mr. Tan (David Chiang), one of the local wealthy and affluent gang bosses, Ma keeps his chin up and his chest pumped. He looks at Tan with respect and admiration – not with jealousy and envy. Ma tells his close buddy that one day they will have money and power, and will attain it with pride and honor. Throughout the film, Brother Ma maintains his poise, dignity and integrity, while pushing through with determination that is almost superhuman.
Speaking of superhuman, Chang Cheh’s direction here is second to none. The skill Chang displays behind the camera is masterful, and the way he executes the narrative is brilliant. Every moment of the film is captured and framed in the most perfect way possible – each close up, introduction, transition, and action set piece serves a purpose: to drive the narrative forward. I watch this film with a look of perpetual astonishment on my face, each sequence continues to build and strengthen the narrative – nothing is superfluous or out of place, and every moment down to the smallest detail is needed. And, even though the film clocks in at two-hours, an epic length for a kung fu film, it never seems long, nor does it wear out its welcome.
The Boxer From Shantung continues to stay fresh and engaging throughout, all due to the great performances, wonderful direction, and amazing pacing, coupled with Lau Kar Leung’s and Tong Gaai’s masterful action choreography. Together, along with the physical performers, they craft action sequences that are hard-hitting and chaotic, becoming more brawl-like in nature rather than the precise demonstrations of kung fu shapes typical to the genre. This detail was never lost on Lau Kar Leung and Tong Gaai, and is why they are such top-notch choreographers. Rather than have the same style of fighting and set-ups in every film, they adapt the style of the choreography to meld with the narrative of each particular film and with each of the combatants’ strengths and weaknesses. The bouts of high flying fisticuffs in Boxer feel dangerous, and are full of tension and power – the raw emotion can be felt oozing from the screen.
Emotion is what drives this film, in each and every possible facet of its execution. Each performance carries weight, and the performers perfectly capture the nuances of the characters, and the gravitas of the situations. The direction is meticulously calculated, and each shot and sequence perfectly invokes the energy of the drama and the immediacy of the overall conflict. Even the action scenes are charged with emotion, and although they are bloody and somewhat brutal, the violence does not feel gratuitous, but only bolsters the narrative and the drive of the combatants. And, through Chen Kuan Tai’s turn as Brother Ma, Chang shows us that even a man with good intentions full of respect and well-deserved power can be beaten down by the very world he seeks to conquer.
I am still at a lost for words to describe my frustration that Chang Cheh’s name is not mentioned in tandem with other great directors. With The Boxer From Shantung, Chang tackled the same themes that filmmakers such as Scorsese, Copolla, and De Palma did, and did so with the same amount of skill and emotion, and less cussing and seediness. While western genre fans continue to turn to films such as The Godfather, Goodfellas and Scarface to quench their “gangster” thirsts, Chang’s filmography continues to be praised by only a small minority of dedicated followers. I feel confidant in declaring that The Boxer From Shantung is a better film than any of those previously mentioned, and I hope that one day Chang’s work truly gets the respect it so rightfully deserves. But until that day, I will continue to give praise where praise is due.
