3. The Blade - Dir. Tsui Hark
The Blade is Tsui Hark's relentlessly dark, brooding, and introspective interpretation of the wuxia pian and its jiang hu. On the surface, The Blade is an homage to Cheng Cheh's The One-Armed Swordsman, but it is much more than a simple remake. When Wong Kar Wai tried to usurp the genre-throne with his equally introspective Ashes of Time, Tsui responded with a film that stands heads and shoulders above that of his new-wave rivalry. With The Blade, Tsui also reestablished his position as a “serious filmmaker.” For far too long he had been seen as a filmmaker who lost his personal voice, as he had traded his one-time critical-darling status for successful box office blockbusters, a trade that I am happy he made. The Blade was a slap to the face of the critical world, it was Tsui Hark saying, “I'm still here morons, wake up!”
I often have a hard time deciding which of Tsui Hark's films I like the best, but The Blade is one that is always under consideration. Like Dangerous Encounters, it is violent, dark, and angry, and like We're Going To Eat You, it is tense and perfectly paced. It is inventive with its action choreography like Once Upon a Time in China, and it is simply a gorgeous film, a treat for the eyes and ears, like Peking Opera Blues. However, even though it shares the qualities of Tsui Hark's best directorial work, it is also unique and more mature than anything he had done before, or has done since.
Like The One-Armed Swordsman, The Blade is a multi-layered study of martial arts, manhood, and brotherhood. The term “homoerotic” is often thrown about in discussions because of how it fetishizes the male body and the psychosexual symbolism of the sword. I think this is a lazy categorization of the themes on display because it is often done at the expense of the jiang hu: the world of the insider, the milieu of the martial artists, and everything important to their existence. It is easy to write off the bare-chested, heroic bloodshed of martial heroes as displays of homoeroticism because we are outsiders, we are not part of their jiang hu, and so we do not understand their intense feelings of brotherhood and camaraderie; it is easy to misinterpret intense feelings of brotherhood for sexual attraction. I am not saying that the homoeroticism isn't there, I just wish it was wasn't among the first “serious” topics of discussion critics and scholars often turn to.
The two “brothers” in The Blade are Ding On and To Tao, two young men who work at a sword factory where the best swords in the land are made. The two are more than friends, they are like brothers, and share the same qualities as siblings, even the rivalry. They both see themselves as protectors of one girl, their master's daughter, and as would-be lovers for another, an attractive prostitute. They also see each other has “martial heroes,” and act accordingly when a monk is brutally murdered by a local gang of thugs. When their master retires, he passes control of the sword factory onto Ding On, much to the chagrin of To Tao and the other brothers. This causes a rift in Ding On's and To Tao's brotherhood, and is one catalyst for a series of life changing events, including a severed sword-arm and the nearly complete destruction of the sword factory.
Because the narrative is full of such strong archetypes and recognizable themes, Tsui is able to craft a film that rewards emotion and flows with ease. Even I, a huge admirer of the director, will admit that Tsui's narratives are often times hard to follow. He often works in montage, and only shows the briefest of plot snippets and characterization needed to register in the minds of the audience. The Blade is not such a film, and this is why I consider it one of his best; it is a film that could even win over those who may not like similar films in the genre. It is more traditionally paced and plotted, and therefor, it is one of his most accessible films in terms of narrative and execution.
The film is also teeming with patented Tsui Hark style, it is a premier example of the director's auteurism. The best of his work simply overflows with infectious, kinetic energy, and The Blade practically explodes from the cinematic depth-charge. The camera is constantly moving and creating tension during the action sequences, as it is used to heighten the disorientation felt by the combatants. The action in the film is not traditional kung fu, nor is it the typical wire-fu more common in the Hong Kong fantasy-action films of the 1990s.
The action in The Blade is fast and furious, and looks dangerous. There are more than a few times where I grit my teeth in preparation for a wound, and wince when the wound is inflicted; it is far more “slam dance” than “ballet”. Tsui Hark pushes the camera in with absurd close-ups during many of the violent exchanges, during which only the combatants' gnashing jowls and the flashes of cold steal are revealed. However, this is not done out of incompetence, or Tsui's inability to frame a shot properly, it is done on purpose, and done to create a new kind of action spectacle. The focus of the action in The Blade is not on the fluid movement of the participants or their weapons, but it is instead on the intense feelings of anger and emotion tangled up in the conflict.
Like many great films, The Blade only gets better with each passing year and with each subsequent release in the genre. It is a landmark film, although one that is often overlooked by both martial arts film fans and critics of world cinema. It may be a bit too dark for some, and I have a hard time seeing the casual fans of films like Hero or Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon really embracing Tsui Hark's violent vision. Not that there is anything wrong with these more casual martial arts films, God knows I am in love with both mentioned, but there is a quality about The Blade that cuts deep into the heart of the thematic elements associated with martial arts cinema, a quality that some may be put off by. However there is also a quality that represents near cinematic perfection, a rare quality that Tsui Hark has managed to hit a few brilliant times.
