60. The Blade of Fury (1993) - Dir. Sammo Hung



Within the walls of a small, remote, rundown village hides a once-great warrior, a man who has turned his back on the Jiang Hu after witnessing the death of his entire force, the legendary Black Flag gang, at the hands of Japanese invaders. Now living the life of a blacksmith, Wang Wu (Yeung Fan) wants nothing more of the martial world. However, he is quickly drawn back into the fray when a group of blood-thirsty bandits ambush a government convoy in the dusty, barren streets of his village. Also lending a hand in the battle are two wandering scholars and martial arts masters, Tan Szu-tung (played by the great Ti Lung), and Nine Catties (played by Cynthia Khan). These three martial heroes align themselves with Shi-kai, a well-intentioned government official, and embark on an epic and heroic journey.



The Blade of Fury is Sammo Hung's brilliant entry into the new school wuxia sub-genre. It is simply a gorgeous film that deals with complex characters displaying authentic emotions, as well as dozens of amazing and effective action sequences. Like Patrick Tam's The Sword, or Leone's Once Upon a Time in the West, one gets the feeling that this film is about the death of an era, and there are strong feelings of sadness, nostalgia, and mythology stirring in the air. At its core, The Blade of Fury is an action packed allegorical examination of China, its people, its ideals, and the corruption of political power.

Wang Wu's martial mastery is introduced in an extraordinary action sequence. As the leader of the Black Flag gang, Wang Wu devises a plan to attack a Japanese encampment. However, things go totally wrong, and Wang Wu is left as the only surviving member of this legendary force. This sequence is executed with a violent and poetic beauty, and encompasses a common duality often found in HK action cinema. Because of the film's wuxia roots, the warriors jump and fly around like sword-wielding superheros, and the cinematography conveys feelings of high-fantasy. However, the very real, and somewhat brutal, violence anchors the flights of fancy to a somewhat harsh and gritty reality. Heads are lopped off and kicked like soccer balls, limbs are divorced from their bodies, and the flashes of steal, cleave, chop, and pierce the blue-tinted night. From this struggle, we see that Wang Wu represents the common people, a people left with only two options: violent confrontation, or surrender.



Tan Szu-tung and Shi-kai form the other two sides of this heroic/political triangle. Both of these characters are introduced in the aforementioned village-ambush sequence, and both of these men are great warriors and idealists, although they don't often see eye-to-eye. Szu-tung is a political reformist, a scholar, and a great warrior, and does not like to use violence as an option. He uses his great martial skill to aide those in need, but abhors killing. Shi-kai is also a good man, although his loyalty is entangled with that of a corrupt government. These two characters often spar, verbally, as they expound upon their own ideas for positive reformation. They also know how to throw down, and in a torrent of high-flying kicks, fists, elbows, swords, and projectiles, these two heroes are a force to be taken extremely seriously. It is always easier if one can enforce radical ideas with physical prowess, the ability to appear strong and righteous is needed to lead a down-and-out people into better times.



That Sammo Hung hangs his action-packed wuxia narrative around the frame of political and social idealism is a stroke of genius, and lends the film a strong feeling of importance. Every brutal, violent, and well-choreographed action sequence is balanced by a moment of tranquil beauty, or philosophical pondering. There are two sequences that perfectly exemplify the film's thematic duality. This first is the martial arts tournament that Wang Wu is conned into joining, thus setting in motion a series of brutal conflicts. Wang Wu steps into the ring while trying to protect a fighter from the vicious onslaught of a ruling warlord's bratty son. The warlord is insulted, and thusly challenges Wang Wu to a fight. This action sequence is nothing less than extraordinary, as the two mature warriors fight atop the face of a giant kettle-drum, onto some umbrellas set up to shade the audience, and back again.



This sequence is balanced by one of extreme beauty and tranquility. While coming to terms with his reintroduction to the Jiang Hu, Wang Wu stumbles upon a beautiful and mysterious lute-playing woman (Rosamund Kwan). The woman recognizes Wang Wu's inner turmoil and tells him that “a sensible man will be full of sorrow for his country.” The two converse for a short period of time, reflecting upon their sorrow and their personal convictions, before Wang Wu insists upon hearing a song, and reflects in mature silence while listening. This short but tranquil scene is expertly crafted by Sammo Hung, and the way he is able to capture both high-tension action, and quiet drama is a testament to his skills as a director.



The '90s were simply overflowing with high-flying wuxia films. This decade represents a second golden age of martial arts cinema, and there are many fine examples to be found. However, , as an example of pure cinema, The Blade of Fury stands among the very best. It is a film to admired for its great action, complex characters, and sweeping, epic narrative. After seeing this film, it is of little wonder that Wong Kar Wai would enlist Sammo for his own epic wuxia, Ashes of Time, however, that film pales in comparison to this new school classic. The Blade of Fury represents genre cinema at its finest, and is a showcase for a director and an industry full of creative verve and cinematic elegance.