Old School Kung Fu Festival: Joseph Kuo Edition

The 9th Old School Kung Fu Festival: Joseph Kuo Edition celebrates the martial art auteur this year. It’s presented by the Museum of the Moving Image and Subway Cinema. Cinema Scholars’ Devin McGrath-Conwell explores four of the films being featured at this year’s festival.

Introduction

Kung fu movies are having a moment this fall with the international success of Marvel’s Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings bringing the genre back to multiplexes. Then again, for anyone who loves them, they have never stopped having a moment. For the 9th Old School Kung Fu Festival, the Museum of the Moving Image and Subway Cinema have partnered to unspool a nine-film lineup from December 6-13, four of which are available to watch virtually. All nine are restorations of films directed by an icon of 1970s and 1980s kung fu, a man who remains one of the genre’s truly essential creative forces: Joseph Kuo. 

For the uninitiated, Kuo is a Taiwanese-born filmmaker who established a one-man-band approach to filmmaking in Hong Kong. Starting in the late 1950s, Kuo began writing, directing, producing, and acting in kung fu films. Between 1958 and 1988 he directed 60 films. His approach was one of low-budget excellence, striving to deliver audiences as much action and entertainment as a shoestring production could manage. Kuo’s filmography is populated by movies often light on narrative, but glittering with jaw-dropping fights and an undeniable sense of fun. Working with a consistent team of collaborators who filled out the archetypal heroes, villains, and henchmen, Kuo mastered the genre. 

Below are mini-reviews of four of Kuo’s films, all remastered in 2K. Read on for a glimpse into what’s in store, or follow this link to dive right into the Old School Kung Fu Festival.

18 Bronzemen (1976)

Kicking off the series of restored films is 18 Bronzemen, a Kung Fu flick flavored with fantasy. When the Qing Dynasty assassinates a local official and his wife, their infant son is rushed off to safety at the Shaolin Temple. Raised without any knowledge of his real lineage, Shaolong (Peng Tien) grows up training in Kung Fu. Even without knowing who his family was, he matures, intending to avenge their deaths.

Growing up alongside him are fellow orphans Brother Wan (Carter Hwang) and Ta Chi (Nan Chiang). Each carries with them a drive to carry out a promise for a felled father, and so they train diligently so they may emerge as Shaolin masters. The only thing standing in their way is to survive the temple of the 18 Bronzemen. Within those deadly walls, they must navigate a labyrinth of traps protected by 18 bronze-skinned warriors. 

Many of Kuo’s films wink at the audience. This film bears none of those marks as led by Tien’s performance. He plays Shaolong as a traumatized and driven young man dead set on vengeance. Watching him and his comrades grow into men finally ready to face down their destinies. 18 Bronzemen signals this from the beginning with an expositional voiceover that makes sure audiences know what’s going on. For the unfamiliar, this is unlike Kuo, who normally dives into the action and lets the audience catch up.

Yes, 18 actors spray-painted bronze and moving mechanically is a preposterous sight, but everyone plays it straight. Much like Vincent Price never wavered in the most absurd horror exercises, 18 Bronzemen’s charm comes from its delightful commitment to taking adventure, revenge, and Kung Fu seriously. 18 Bronzemen, therefore, leaves one wondering what Kuo might have pulled off with a bigger budget and a proper studio behind him because what he manages here is remarkable. 

Return of the 18 Bronzemen (1976)

It must be clarified outright: Return of the 18 Bronzemen is not a connected sequel to 18 Bronzemen. Yes, it features many of the same actors, but this is an entirely different story set in similar confines. And of course, featuring those goofy bronze behemoths. It follows Prince Yong Zhen (Carter Wong) who conspires to take the throne when the Emperor dies. As he completes his ascension, he is warned that the deadly Shaolin monks will do their best to rise against his rule.

In a twist worthy of a John Le Carré novel, Zhen goes undercover as a commoner to learn the way of the Shaolin monks at their temple. His plan is to master their kung fu and face the fables 18 bronzemen. He believes that once he emerges on the other side he will be undefeatable. For three years he trains and faces the brutal tests, devoted to mastering the craft.

Return of the 18 Bronzemen is to 18 Bronzemen what John Wick 2 is to John Wick. Kuo takes every part of the first movie that worked and reinvents them to be bigger, bolder, and more exciting. No, this film is not narratively related in any way to the previous film, but the subject matter and archetypes remain steadfast nonetheless.

What sets this film apart and makes it the standout of the restorations is Kuo’s masterful direction. He seems to be having endless fun, pushing his camera and mise-en-scene in dynamic directions. He plays with foreground and background, staging action out of focus behind towering onlookers. There is a repeated motif of frames within frames. Characters, both in conversation and conflict, are framed within windowpanes, bars, and archways. All of this unfolds with a color palette burgeoned by splashes of red and green light echoed in lush costumes.

At its center is a committed and vibrant performance from Kuo regular Carter Wong. He is an imposing fighter, and this film showcases every lethal skill in his impressive arsenal. If you only watch one restoration, make it this one. 

7 Grandmasters (1977)

The Old School Kung Fu Festival notes point out that “the first half-hour of any Joseph Kuo film takes some patience while he clears his throat and gets down to business.” 7 Grandmasters is the prime embodiment of that sentiment. The first act stumbles about but once it clicks the movie shimmers with verve.

7 Grandmasters centers on Master Sang (Jack Long), an aged kung fu master ready to retire before an anonymous challenge inspires him to traverse the regions of face the seven grandmasters to solidify his status before stepping aside. A group of his students accompanies him, and along the way, they pick up bumbling tag-along Sha Shaoying (Li Yi-min). As the group moves from duel to duel, Shaoying convinces Sang to take him on as a student. The result is a back-half that doubles as an old man finishing his reign while a young one discovers his potential. 

7 Grandmasters structure means that we’re never too far from a face-off between Sang and a grandmaster. All seven of the duels showcase Long’s exceptional Kung Fu talents. Kuo lets the choreography and the actors shine, lingering with broad shots and not over-editing. The results are elegant filmmaking, designed to flow from strike to counter and back again.

Even so, the core of this film is Yi-min’s performance as Shaoying, a role that brilliantly balances humor and action. He brings such committed physical comedy to the early scenes. A standout is his attempt to deliver medicine to sickened Sang, only to have one of the other students confront him. It is the union of Kung Fu and slapstick that Kuo perfected. It also makes Shaoying’s transition from dope to prodigy all the more satisfying. In totality, 7 Grandmasters is an exuberant film packed with equal measures of adrenaline and hilarity. 

36 Deadly Styles (1980)

36 Deadly Styles is the most mixed bag of the bunch. The film centers on Wah Jee (Lik Cheung), who has arrived at a temple after running from a group of brutal brothers who have already killed his father. At the temple, Senior Huang (Tse Lin Yang), the only non-monk on the premises, looks out for Wah Jee. They must contend with repeated attacks from the dastardly brothers while Wah Jee adapts to temple life.

On a trip to buy soy milk, Wah Jee meets Tsui-Jee (Jeanie Chang) who sells the soy with her father (Mei Sheng Fan). Over time, unexpected linkages between Wah Jee, Senior Huang, and the soy traders bond them together in the face of the brothers’ brutality. 

The first half of 36 Deadly Styles is wonderful. Kuo amplifies both characteristic sides of his style. Thus, he offers up a film that trades equally in Three Stooges adjacent slapstick and bloody violence. An early battle at the temple ranks among his most accomplished set pieces. Tse Lin Yang is a standout fighter in that scene, as well as an acting bright spot as Huang. His performance exudes a similar blend of wisdom and strength to Takashi Shimura’s legendary turn in Seven Samurai.

Alongside him, Lik Cheung and Jeanie Chang are both sensationally charismatic whether they are fighting, chatting, or lounging about. During the first hour of the film, each of these performers gets to shine in duels and witty exchanges alike. The final half-hour loses touch with those aspects that make most of the runtime so enjoyable. Ratcheted-up intensity replaces charm.

In one climactic fight, a man has his eyes poked out. This is followed shortly by another nearly being split open. Kuo seems to trade wit for spectacle in the final act of 36 Deadly Styles, but what works in the film is exceptional, and therefore remains a testament to Kuo’s unique sensibilities.

You can access more information and tickets for the Old School Kung Fu Festival at this link.

More from Cinema Scholars:

FIDDLER ON THE ROOF – A Retrospective Review At 50
POSSESSION (1981): A Retro Review

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