Osamu Tezuka’s (Astro Boy) Dororo gets the live-action makeover, from director Akihiko Shiota, starring Memories Of Matsuko’s Kou Shibasaki, but spoiled a little by wishy-washy CGI and under-par action from legendary Ching Siu-Tung…

Legendary and prolific manga artist and animator Osamu Tezuka’s work continues to hold an appeal for modern filmmakers. The most famous of which is Astro Boy, which is not only attributed with creating the Anime aesthetic but also brought it to an international audience, and it’s also due for a big Hollywood 3-D makeover this Autumn. Other works to be more recently reinterpreted include his Fritz Lang inspired Metropolis, Kimba the White Lion, Black Jack, and now Dororo.

Dororo started life as an ongoing manga that Tezuka himself never completed in the late 1960s. It quickly made the transition to an animated series in 1969, when it seemed like an heir apparent to Astro Boy, but the series concluded after 26 episodes. More recently it resurfaced as a Video Game, proving the source material still had an appeal for fans (even if it wasn’t a monumental success), so why not a live-action version at last?

A hapless thief, Dororo (Kou Shibasaki, Memories Of Matsuko, One Missed Call, Battle Royale) befriends the mysterious Hyakkimaru after he saves her from a demon in a bar fight. Hyakkimaru (Satoshi Tsumabuki, The Fast And The Furious: Tokyo Drift), as it turns out, had most of his body parts replaced as a baby after his warlord father Daigo Kagemitsu (Kiichi Nakai, When the Last Sword Is Drawn, Riding Alone for Thousands of Miles) made a deal with 48 demons which involved promising them most of his vital organs and limbs.

Only Hyakkimaru isn’t aware of all that. Discovered by a numinous physician who has managed to replicate most of his organs synthetically, he roams Japan only knowing that each time he dispels one of these demons, armed with his mystical blade for a left hand, a real organ is returned to him. Dororo joins him on his quest, but Hyakkimaru is about to discover his true origins, and a real reckoning is coming for the pair.

An enjoyable slice of fantasy, this live-action version of Dororo seems to pull heavily on the recent resurgence of such programmes as Monkey (even if the movie version of the new series, Monkey Magic, didn’t fair so well at the box office). In hindsight, you could even argue that the original 70s Monkey series was partly inspired by the Dororo series, its depiction of Demons seems so familiar. (And then you could just plane turn that argument on it’s head, and suggest that perhaps Tezuka was inspired by the early 60s Shaw Brothers productions of the Journey To The West – but enough already!)

Dororo and Hyakkimaru’s world is nicely brought to life by director Akihiko Shiota (Canary, Harmful Insect), allegedly shoot on location in New Zealand. (I guess there’s nowhere else for fantasy films to go since Lord Of The Rings?) It’s a nice looking film, with some interesting ideas. There’s the moth demon and her caterpillar  offspring); and the physicians Edward Scissorhands style laboratory where he creates Hyakkimaru’s new limbs and organs.

However, often the standard of CGI lets it down. It seems rough and simplistic, but not in any sort of stylised way, and with little effort to blend it with the filmed shots. It feels rather cheap, not helped by, shall we say, ‘real’ demons (or at least not CGI) whose masks seem equally as shoddy – not even a match of the original Monkey series, let alone the recent film.(If there’s a big budget to this film, you wonder where it’s gone?)

Surprisingly, the involvement of legendary action choreographer (not to mention director) Ching Siu-Tung (Curse Of The Golden Flower, An Empress And The Warriors, House Of Flying Daggers, A Chinese Ghost Story) does little to raise the quality. Sure, the action scenes are well directed, but not outstanding by any means, let alone inspired. And considering how many films he was involved with during the height of the ‘wire fu’ craze, it’s hard to put that down to Ching being stretch too thinly with his own projects and other films like Kung Fu Dunk. It’s almost as if he just couldn’t get how the green screen action would play out – but again, it’s not as if he hasn’t worked with CGI before.

Thankfully the leads are pretty likable in their roles, with Shibasaki’s feisty Dororo (a male role in the original manga) playing up her tough but cute persona. Tsumabuki is strong too, despite being remarkably sanguine about his predicament and abandonment by his parents. There’s a solid supporting cast too.

Like the recent equally enjoyable if a little better played out) Ichi, Dororo suffers from being a little too long for it’s own good. There seems to be a lot of time spent on exposition, explaining Hyakkimaru’s origins, too much for my tastes, and the plot often seems to stall. Contrast that with very little time spent on the eponymous character herself (though perhaps that’s deliberate, considering two sequels are slated and we end the film already halfway through the 48 demons?)

Dororo is a fine fantasy film, but ultimately you wish it was a little quirkier. It lacks the ‘super-cuteness’ of Osamu Tezuka’s original manga, let alone his distinctiveness, and that seems a shame to me.

From the same novel that spawned John Woo’s Red Cliff comes Three Kingdoms, surrounding the legend of Zhao Zilong who became known as The Undefeated General. But do we need another hysterical – I mean historical – drama…?

(And no, it’s not about resurrecting that dragon – they haven’t found a way to bring back Bruce Lee… yet!)

Zhao, played by Andy Lau, is a commoner who joins Liu Bei’s forces in the hope of helping end the wars between the three kingdoms in China. With his courage and exceptional martial art prowess Zhao soon rises through the ranks, becoming of of Liu Bei’s five generals (who also include 70s Shaw Brothers star Ti Lung as Guan Yu) – particularly when he saves Liu Bei’s baby son from the forces of Cao Cao (in an all-too-fleeting cameo by Damien Lau) – a scene also shown in Woo’s Red Cliff, where Jun Hu played Zhao.

Several years later Zhao finds himself still fighting for new leaders, the country still torn apart by war. Deceived into a trap that brings him full circle to the outpost where his calling began, he finds himself up against Cao’s daughter Ying  (Maggie Q, Die Hard 4.0, Mission: Impossible III, Gen-X Cops 2), and an inevitable showdown…

Guanzhong Luo’s 14th century historical novel, Romance Of The Three Kingdoms is said to be one of the four classic Chinese novels, alongside Journey To The West, The Water Margin and Dream of the Red Chamber. (And yes, I admit even I had to look up that last one…) Unlike Woo’s more recent Red Cliff, director Daniel Lee’s (Black Mask, What Price Survival?) script and direction does little to honour that novel, encompassing both too little of the source material, and too much of Zhao’s life span. (And it’s nothing to do with Lee’s loose take on the material, either, Woo was just as free with the details.)

In fact, the battle for Red Cliff itself is not even eluded to, perhaps due to Lee wanting to distance himself from Woo’s long promised and undoubtedly epic take on the novel. Yet by trying to show us how Zhao first became a legend, cover the battles he fought and bring us to his disillusioned end, Lee simply glosses over his characters, providing none of them with any depth to like, let alone get caught up in the sentimentality heaped on us.

I’ve begun coining the phrase ‘hysterical dramas’ (rather than historical) for films like this, the mounting levels of melodrama and hysteria having become so over-the-top. It’s something The Warlords did, which also starred Andy Lau, but did well, and Red Cliff, somehow, managed to avoid. Yet Lee even makes a mess of that. We don’t care about the one-dimensional characters, or what happens to them. He lazily inserts flashback after flashback to attempt to pull at our heartstrings, yet only infuriates as they often come within minutes of being originally shown. Gone are the days when we’d get a classic Woo cum Peckinpah flashback of friends in happier times, before seeing them blown to pieces one last time. You can’t help but feel Lee would have been better placed concentrating on the latter part of Zhao’s life.

It’s heavy handed, simplistic and somehow very patronising – I can’t help but feel like Lee is aiming his sights purely on the Chinese market, and that says something rather sad about how sophisticated an audience he considers them. At best it’s a misguided attempt to recreate the simplicity of the Shaw Brothers classics of the 70s that starred Ti Lung and Damien Lau.

It’s also strangely nihilistic. Having fought so many years and given up any happiness of his own, only to find himself in exactly the same out that his heroic journey began, now betrayed by his oldest friend, and even used as a pawn by the great strategist Zhuge Liang. This is the part of the film where the lead is supposed to find a resolution, a meaning for his life, and the true elevation of dying with honour (I hope I’m not spoiling the plot here) yet as with director Lee’s sweeping generalisations, this rings as hollow and unconvincing. There is no discernable victory to be found, let alone moral high ground. (Zhao doesn’t even honour his own words to die defending the outpost.) Could this be deliberate – probably not, and hardly has the desired result.

On the positive side, the action choreography by co-star Sammo Hung and fellow Peking Opera student Yuen Tak, who both attended the same school with Jackie Chan and Yuen Biao, is outstanding. (Even if the scale is dwarfed by Woo’s production several times over.) The cinematography is also impressive, the great, dusty, desolate golden-saturated landscape created by director of photography Tony Cheung mirrored in a main theme that is more than slightly reminiscent of a spaghetti western.

The cast, however, get such a bum deal with the script there’s little for them to sink their teeth into. Andy Lau, initially rather miscast as the young Zhao, is disappointing and rather unconvincing in the lead role. Just compare with his recent performances in Protégé, or even the similarly themed The Warlords – this is more an actor simply going through the motions, but with this script who can blame him. Similarly, Sammo Hung’s support is fine, but not exceptional.

Instead it’s Maggie Q, whose casting was heavily criticised when the film was released in Asia, who actually makes quite a promising appearance as the daughter of Cao Cao, as does Andy On as Zhao’s second-in-command Deng Zhi. It’s just with such a short amount of time devoted to their part of the story, we don’t see enough of them!

Yep, this might sound a bit harsh, but you’re better off trying to catch the theatrical release of Red Cliff while it’s still playing in cinemas. Overall this is a disappointing ‘historical drama’ that should be left to true fans of the genre.

Three Kingdoms: Resurrection Of The Dragon (cert. 15) is released today on DVD (£17.99) and Blu-ray (£24.99) by Icon Home Entertainment.

Novelist Kan Shimozawa’s famous blind swordsman Zatoichi, recently brought to the screen by Beat Takeshi, gets a feminine makeover courtesy Fumihiko Sori, director of Ping Pong and the Anime Vexille…

Ichi, played by Haruka Ayase (Cyborg She, Hero – ahem, not that one!) is a ‘goze’ – a blind musician – travelling the countryside in search of her father. Constantly having to deal with those who’s take advantage of her disability, there’s one thing they should beware of – Ichi also happens to be a master swordsman (should that be swordswoman, or is that non-PC?). A fact made clear when fellow traveller Toma (Takao Osawa, All About Lily Chou-Chou, Midnight Eagle, Goemon, Sky High) tries to protect her from bandits, only to find he needs her protection.

The pair soon find themselves entangled in a battle for a village between the ruling family and a vicious gang of bandits led by Banki (Shido Nakamura, Red Cliff, Letters From Iwo Jima), who intimates he may know the location of Ichi’s father (who also happens to be a master swordsman). Toma gains the acclaim of Ichi’s work, but soon becomes besotted with her.

Not unlike the situation in Kurosawa’s Yojimbo or Leone’s adaption A Fistful Of Dollars, if you will, (except without the swordsman’s manipulation of the two parties) it’s clear that Ichi’s prowess could turn the tide – if only they’ll believe she’s really capable…

For a director well known for his CGI sequences, such as those that made the fantastical Ping Pong sequences so exciting (I mean, that is NOT easy!), and even more for getting involved in Anime, producing Appleseed and directing Vexille, Ichi is surprising low key in it’s use of computer effects. (That’s not to say they’re not there, but are deliberately underplayed.) In fact, if anything the whole film feels somewhat old fashioned – it’s definitely not revolutionary in the way that Beat Takeshi’s take Zatoichi was – and that’s by no means a criticism.

In many senses that seems almost deliberate. The films fight choreographer Hiroshi Kuze, is the second-generation master of Kuzeshichiyoukai, a sword-fighting school founded by Ryu Kuze, the choreographer of Akira Kurosawa’s The Seven Samurai. Hiroshi took over the school in the 80s, working with Kurosawa himself on Ran and Madadayo. He also worked with Yoji Yamada on Twilight Samurai and The Hidden Blade.

If Sori’s intent is to dispel the myths of exaggerated swordplay – the wire-fu and self-conscious ridiculousness of films like Hero (that one!) and Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon – then like Hirokazu Kore-eda’s underrated Hana (aka Hanayori mo Naho), it oddly actually puts him on the same page as Kurosawa, who no doubt was reacting to the martial art novels of the day and the classic Chinese stories that inspired them. Kurosawa’s heroes were often hardly the bold, invincible warriors they built themselves up to be – take the main protagonist in Rashômon, for instance.

Which seems a bit odd considering the directors previous work, and that the producer Toshiaki Nakazawa was inspired to recast Zatoichi with a female lead due to the success of Kill Bill. In fact, the film is combination of both the Zatoichi franchise, and a lesser-known blind swordswoman character from a rival 60s studio, ‘Blind O-Ichi’ from the Crimson Bat series¹. Known only as Ichi, Sori’s film playfully mixes the two franchises into one, with hints that Ichi’s father may well be the original Zatoichi (or was that just my take?).

Sori seems to have a deft touch for getting the best out of his actors, and allowing them the room to make the characters their own. The performances of the leads Haruka and Takao are great – particularly Takao, who makes the faintly ridiculous situation of a samurai who can’t actually unsheathe his sword due to a childhood accident (almost) believable. The unlikely burgeoning romance between the pair is touchingly and credibly played out, meaning you far more readily buy into any upcoming tragedy. (That’s not giving too much away, is it?)

It’s helps there’s a strong ensemble cast at Sori’s disposal, with wonderfully hammy performances by Shido Nakamura (who gave such solid support as Gan Xing in Red Cliff) and Riki Takeuchi as Izo (best known for his turns in Takeshi Miike’s Dead Or Alive series and Yo-Yo Girl Cop) cast as the bad guys. (One could even argue that’s exactly how they might have been, as perceptions of their power would have been made by such public displays of bravado.)

What ultimately let’s Ichi down is simply a protracted conclusion that stops and starts, rather than builds momentum. The film is simply too long for it’s own good – which is a shame for what is otherwise superbly entertaining movie.

Ichi can be seen as part of the ICA’s Cult Japan season in London from today, and in selected cinemas around the UK from Friday, 10 July. A UK DVD release will follow later in the year.

1 Reference Ichi: Justice Is Blind by Jonathan Clements

Say what? Another two hours to find out how the Battle of Red Cliff actually goes? Is it worth it? Oh yes, all you John Woo fans out there, it really is…

For Asian audiences, the first part of John Woo’s epic Red Cliff was something of a teaser: over two hours running time and still we don’t get to the eponymous battle itself. Worse still, once all the major characters have been introduced – particularly General Zhou Yu (Tony Leung) and Sun Shangxiang (Zhao Wei) – the film manages to leave behind its slow, political machinations to become a wholeheartedly enjoyable affair. It left us with a battle sequence on such an epic scale it managed to dwarf those in Lord Of The Rings, full of tricky formation manoeuvres and trademark Woo slow-mo backsliding, baby saving and even a pigeon, ahem, I mean dove reference (yay!)

So part two should be full stream ahead for the decisive historic battle itself then? Well not quite…

As you may have guessed from the pace of the first film, it’s going to take a while to get to the battle itself. First there’s Sun Shangxiang going undercover in the enemy Cao Cao’s (Zhang Fengyi) army, making something of an unlikely spy (all be it a classic Chinese premise) who befriends a soldier promoted to commander due to his great cujo (that’s football to you and me) playing.

Then an outbreak of typhoid in Cao Cao’s camp, which Zhou Yu honourably decides not to use as an advantage against him in this war – only to have Cao send the dead bodies of the infected into Yu’s battlements. As more become infected, the alliance between Sun Quan’s (Chen Chang) kingdom and the displaced populace led by Liu Bei (You Yong crumbles. With Liu unwilling to let any further harm come to those under his protection, they leave Sun forces to face Cao’s already far greater army.

(Which is nice, considering they got them into this war in the first place!)

Zhou Yu and master strategist Zhuge Liang (Takeshi Kaneshiro) must use all their wiles to give them an advantage against Cao – but what chance do they really stand?

Well, I don’t think I’ll be spoiling things by telling you that, ultimately, John Woo pulls out all the stops for a satisfying conclusion that beats the first for all-round entertainment, even if it lasts (nearly) another two and a half hours.

I have to admit to retracting my original review, that the Western release, which effectively cuts the running time in half, would be an improvement. Though the film takes its time, now we have the enjoyable interplay between the characters. And if the script is, typically for Woo, a little simplistic at times, its beautifully shot by cinematographers Lu Yu (Lifetimes, Shanghai Triad, Breaking the Silence) and Zhang Li (The Banquet) and more importantly, brilliantly played. Truth is there’s little from this half I’d want to see lost, particularly as the most likely cuts will be that characterisation and the delicate cultural references that help describe their motivations.

As previously mentioned, Tony Leung is compelling in his role as Zhou Yu, and Zhao Wei lights up the screen (though to my mind still seems too modern for a historical drama). It’s nice to see such a particularly strong female in a John Woo movie, and even the rather insipid character of Xiao Qiao (newcomer Chiling Lin) proves she has more ‘balls’ than most of the male cast.

Zhang Fengyi also makes an impressive lead as Cao Cao (a welcome return to the big screen since playing the assassin in Chen Kaige’s The Emperor and the Assassin) bringing complexity to the role of a leader more bound up in his own ambition than actually evil per se.

Takeshi Kaneshiro, on the other hand, becomes rather annoying, spending most of the film either smugly smirking to himself, or just on the cusp of tears, or worse (and this is a look to master) both! Oddly having taken centre stage in the first part, Liu Bei and his supporting characters take a back seat in this film – a plot necessity that may well make better sense in the Western edit.

All of which leads us to that definitive battle, the one the whole point of the film resides on. Is it really worth it? Well, it gets off to a shaky start. Despite it’s impressive scale, the naval battle is nowhere near as exciting as you’d like it to be. Namely due to the night time setting and high contrast of the flames, the action is confusing at best, and not on the level of Peter Weir’s Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World, for instance. (It may look better on the big screen or Blu-ray versions?)

Yet of course, it’s on land where Woo finds his strongest footing. Once again this marathon skirmish bears comparison to that of Lord Of The Rings: The Return of the King, as Zhou’s forces attempt to conquer Cao’s battlements, with massive explosions and yes, that borrowed Chinese Army at his disposal. Together with action chorographer Corey Yuen, there are plenty of great moments and ‘Woo-ism’s’ to keep both fans and general cinema audiences happy: a rope turned into flaming whip; heroic sacrifices; a classic Woo three-way (with swords not guns); and one hell of a finale that goes a long way towards outdoing even The Killer and Hard Boiled… not quite, but nearly!

(You might well ask yourself why he made such a mess of Windtalkers, though one can mainly put that down to the American production.)

And by avoiding the overly hysterical, overly melodramatic nature of recent historical dramas, Woo has created a film that can transcend even Western audiences. (Let’s not pretend that we’re aiming for any kind historical accuracy here.) Easily the best Woo film in over a decade, I only hope he can put his increasing poor Hollywood record behind him (I mean, Paycheck anyone?) and keep future projects up to this level.

It’ll be interesting to see how audiences react to the edited version of Red Cliff in UK cinemas. Early signs are the Western edit has been somewhat harsh, as you might expect from losing two hours of screen time, but it’s still a great ride.

Red Cliff, the abridged Western version, is released in the UK on 12 June by Entertainment Films.

Wong Kar-wai returns to his 1994 classic to produce a definite version – but is it really any better…?

When Wong Kar-wai first announced he was returning to his classic wu xia pian genre movie it was always going to ruffle a few feathers.

The director’s notorious reputation for never being truly happy with his work – think about the stalls and re-editing his most recent films like 2046 and My Blueberry Nights have received, even after being released to festivals (if they hadn’t been pulled first) – seemed to have reached Ridley Scott proportions. (I mean what, yet another cut of Blade Runner?)

And here was a film beloved of fans, a rare step into a genre you’d rarely associate Kar-wai with. But is the Redux an improvement, or sacrilege, as some will maintain?

Back in 1994, the Ashes Of Time seemed a strange project for Wong Kar-wai. The first project for the production company he set up with fellow Hong Kong director Jeff Lau, Jet Tone, the thought of Kar-wai tackling a martial arts movie – at the very height of the wu xia genre’s popularity – may have been deemed inappropriate for a director already gaining recognition for his artistic merit. That the project should be an attempt to bring Louis Cha’s infamous Eagle Shooting Heroes novels (translated as Condor Heroes in the West) – a Chinese epic on a par with J. R. R. Tolkien’s Ring trilogy, and incidentally published around the same time – appeared ambitious in the extreme.

And yet it became a marriage made in heaven for Kar-wai and wu xia fans alike.

Rather than attempt to bring the complex novel to the screen, Kar-wai instead decided to take characters and elements suggested by it. Unsurprisingly for him, the film becomes much more a reflection on lost love and feelings left unspoken than it is on martial arts or so-called wire fu. He layers narrative with a typical disregard for the linear, interweaving his characters as they become as disconnected emotionally from life and loved ones as they are physically in the desert where our lead character presides.

And at the centre of it all is vagabond Ouyang Feng, superbly played by the late Leslie Cheung as the unsympathetic agent for a dangerous league of assassins and swordsmen. Long wounded by a love he neglected and lost, he’s become cold and cynical. Yet as seasons come and go, and friends and enemies with them, he begins to reflect on the origins of his self-imposed solitude.

Mixing the maturity and restraint of King Hu (Touch Of Zen) and some of the more esoteric cutaway style of Wang Hsing-Lei (Escorts Over Tiger Hills) the film takes on even more of a dreamlike quality for Kar-wai’s work, being so much further away from any contemporary reference.

With an all-star cast, the film oozes with class. Each performer excelling in their roles and, crucially, conveying the complex backstories without Kar-wai having to show them. From Tony Leung Ka-fai as Huang Yaoshi, the swordsman trying to forget his past; to Brigitte Lin as Muyong Yin/Yang, brilliantly playing up to her androgynous appearance as Asia The Invincible in Swordsman II and The East Is Red; from Tony Leung Chiu-wai as the swordsman slowly going blind; to Jacky Cheung as the shoeless beggar swordsman Hong Qigong; and then there’s Carina Lau, Charlie Yeung and the celestial beauty that is Maggie Cheung.

Let’s be clear about this, without such stunning performances Kar-wai would never have gotten away with showing us so little and implying so much. (And I’m sure he’d be the first to admit that.)

Despite the involvement of Sammo Hung as action choreographer, even the action sequences seem muted. (More so in the Redux, but we’ll come back to that.) Those expecting the clever to-and-fro of a Ching Siu-tung or Yuen Woo-ping sequence, so typical of the wire fu or the time, may be sorely disappointed. Fancy footwork is definitely the order of the day, as Kar-wai’s focus forces the action to be filmed in an unconventional way. And with plenty of slow motion. We’re not talking John Woo slo-mo here, or even his mentor Zhang Che’s, highlighting poignant moments of fast action. No, nearly all of it is in slow motion, turning the action into poetical, and often confusing, movements. Indeed, one of the more impactful moments, when Tony Leung Chiu-wai’s swordsman finally goes blind and meets his end, is a thinly disguised Lone Wolf And Cub reference from the manga and first live-action film.

Much more a precursor to Hero than the less subjective Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon: in fact Kar-wai’s favourite cinematographer Christopher Doyle, who worked on both Ashes and Hero, claims the later could never existed without the former. And not just because of the gruelling location shoots in China, then very unheard of in Hong Kong filmmaking, now a basis for most productions (though mainly due to the financial benefit of Chinese co-productions).

It’s also an important turning point in how such genre movies were considered, suddenly filmmakers remembered that a wu xia movie could also be an art film, for the first time since King Hu’s Touch Of Zen. (An over-exaggeration, admittedly, but even great movies like The Bride With White Hair still focused on the spectacle of cinema.) The genre may have died out within a year or so, till Crouching Tiger revived it, but if you really want to know where wu xia got so serious, this is the defining moment. Which is easy to say with hindsight, but at the time the overrunning shooting schedule in China, which dragged on for over a year, caused the film to be a commercial flop.

It’s easy to see its influence well beyond the obvious work of Doyle on Hero. Look at the grit on Tsui Hark’s Blade or Ringo Lam’s Burning Paradise, both filmed within a year. More recently look no further than Peter Chan’s The Warlords, Kim Sung-su’s Musa or John Woo’s Red Cliff – all direct descendents of Ashes Of Time.

Kar-wai seems to have held a passion for the martial arts novels he must have grown up with. Just a few years earlier he had co-written the script for Saviour Of The Soul with Jeff Lau. Itself an adaptation of Cha’s second novel in his Eagle series (the original Cantonese title literally translates as ‘91 God-Eagle-Hero-Couple) it’s arguably an even looser revision of Cha’s work than even Ashes. Updating the action to the (then) present day, it seems a little incongruous with Kar-wai’s catalogue. The tone often clashes between slapstick and serious, violent action, but the end result is an iconic Hong Kong film, undeniable fun and surprisingly beautiful (The cinematography was by Peter Pau – who would go on to win an Oscar for his work on Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, and also worked on Ashes ‘sister’ movie The Eagle Shooting Heroes.) Now it just feels like a rare chance for him to let his hair down.

And the theme would recur in his films, like when the lead character from In The Mood For Love Chow Mo-Wan (Tony Leung Chiu-wai) is encouraged to follow his dream and write martial arts novels by the spouse of his neighbour So Lai-zhen (Maggie Cheung). So it’s obviously a film close to his heart, and it was his mission to create a ‘definite’ version of the film, away from the poor DVD versions available, that brought on this revisit.

That, and perhaps penance for foisting 2046 and particularly My Blueberry Nights on his audience (mate, you should have cast Cat Power in the lead!).

So what about the Redux? How does it compare. Well for starters the title is a bit misleading. It brings to mind the Apocalypse Now Redux, where Coppola added an interesting but entirely unnecessary half hour. Instead, as you’ll probably already be aware, it’s shorter – Kar-wai has cut some five or six minutes from the running time.

According to Wong Kar-wai, it was less a case of cutting or ‘leaving out’ certain scenes than he could just not unearth a version in good enough condition to be used. That said, I believe that some of the omissions are less arbitrary. Most notable is the sequence right just after the opening face-off between Ouyang Feng and Huang Yaoshi, showing a future Ouyang fighting against the Beggar Clan, then Huang wiping out the bandits, all completely gone. It accounts for quite a chunk of time. Originally it had seemed too long, almost like an offering to those expecting an action-packed wu xia movie – which didn’t fool anyone at the time judging by the poor box office returns. Without it, though, we lose the poignancy of Ouyang’s clash with the Beggar Clan, revealed later. (Mind you, you’d probably have had to see the film a few times to get that, but that was part of the appeal.) We also lose the concluding montage, hinting at what happens to the main characters in the future. And that brings us back to the muting of the action, the focus on the film draws even more onto the drama and love stories within it.

Generally the cut has better pace. Sure, there are scenes left out. Like after the Blind Swordsman’s death we originally cut back to Huang to find him return to the inn where they used to meet – hoping he’d forgive him without realising (or perhaps wanting to realise) that he was dead. But often these scenes don’t quite fit with the flow of the film. That isn’t helped by the fact that distributors in South East Asia all released there own cuts, extending, adding or dropping as they saw fit. So chances are what we saw probably wasn’t what Kar-wai intended anyway. (Even if he wasn’t something of a fusspot!)

Added to the film are title cards to the seasons. Now I don’t agree with Kar-wai that the references to the Chinese almanac were lost on Western audiences, but their use again disciplines the cut somewhat, evening out the pace for each term over the film.

Much has been made of the digital manipulation throughout the film. I for one am not convinced that the deep saturation wasn’t what Chris Doyle had actually intended, so much of his work is about colour, and the version I’d previously seen are so washed out and grainy it’s impossible to tell. The digital meddling with the opening scene, however, seems to equal that of George Lucas in the ‘unnecessary’ category: new cutaways are made to an eclipse, later referenced; with lens glare effects added to the original footage.

I’m not, by the way, going to list all the differences here. There are new opening and closing titles, and a new score, mixing the original with replayed and expanded orchestral versions and performances by Yo-Yo Ma (again making reference to the new school of wu xia movies). There’s less obvious stuff too, but here we come to the tricky part, is it better, or just an excuse for Kar-wai to mess about with the film again?

Well, with no decent version of the film previously out there, this has to be a good thing. Sure, there are scenes I’d have to have been included, but this is an improvement, the pacing is far better. (Okay, so that might rub so ardent fans up the wrong way, but it’s true!)

This is still a classic! Perhaps even more so now…

The funkiest Monkey is back, in a whole new adventure with Tripitaka, Pigsy and Sandy…

Whilst on their quest to India, Buddhist monk Tripitaka (Eri Fukatsu) and his three protective disciples, Monkey (Shingo Katori), Pigsy (Atsushi Ito, Blood and Bones) and Sandy (Teruyoshi Uchimura), encounter a young princess Reimi (Tabe Minako). She convinces the help save her Tiger Kingdom from the absolute power of the brother demons King Gold Horn and Silver Horn. But all is not as it seems…

The enduring popularity of the Nippon TV series of the 1970s, Saiyūki, known as Monkey in the West, seems in little danger of dying out – despite not being on terrestrial screens for nearly 30 years! Somehow this good natured take on Wu Cheng’en’s classic Chinese novel Journey To The West still coverts new fans year-upon-year, and this new take on Saiyūki began as a Japanese TV series itself in 2006.

Essentially a reboot of the original 70s series, rather than a new look at the original novel, Monkey Magic captures much of the original spirit of the series. If most of the characters have remodelled for the noughties, including a blonde Monkey (not unlike the later appearance of Jet Li in The Forbidden Kingdom), then Eri Fukatsu as Tripitaka is the spit of the actress who played her originally. The series even included an appearance from the original Monkey, Masaaki Sakai.

Rather than produce a second season, however, the makers decided to take the new show to the big screen, and herein lies the problem with this film – keeping true to the lovable budget nature, but also creating a story worthy enough of a cinematic treatment. However hard it tries, it can’t help but come off like an over-extended episode, definitely not worthy of its close to two hour running time. Though the film often looks good, it can’t seem to escape it’s television origins, and that probably isn’t helped by the fact that director Kensaku Sawada’s experience has been entirely based in TV.

Monkey is his old self, as mischievous as ever with his over-blown ego, but even if he always was the lead, here the characters of Sandy and Pigsy are marginalised to little more few lines of dialogue. Indeed, it’s not a case of the actors not being as engaging as the original cast, though that’s true of Shingo as Monkey, neither Atsushi nor Teruyoshi really get the chance.

Instead, plenty of screen time is given to the character of Rin Rin (Asami Mizukawa, Dark Water), a pesky thief character invented for the new series (which will no doubt throw viewers who haven’t seen it first, as the character is given no introduction!) Indeed, hardcore fans of the original series may be irritated by what few changes have been made. (For instance, there’s no Yu Lung, the dragon that disguised itself as Tripitaka’s horse.)

At least there’s a version of the original end theme Ghandara over the end credits, even if it’s a somewhat bland karaoke arrangement. Played by the appropriately-named Monkey Majik, this Canadian-born, Japanese-based band actually did  a version of Monkey Magic itself, but we can be glad it wasn’t included! (Think Maroon 5 or Orson without the, ahem, attitude… another example of what we discussed a few weeks ago when we looked back at Godiego’s original soundtrack!)

Monkey Magic is a likable continuation of the series that should appeal to fans, as it pretty well captures the attitude of the original series, but with somewaht better special effects. Let’s hope distributor Cine Asia brings over the 2006 series as well…?

Yet another historical drama, over blown, over acted and over long – but it’s still easily the best thing John Woo has done in a long time…!

Heralded for a several years as John Woo’s return to Chinese filmmaking since Hard Boiled, this troubled production took years to make it to the big screen, cost an estimated US$80 million (which would make it the most expensive Asian-financed film to date), included roughly 1000 members of the Chinese Army as extras, had one unfortunate accidental death of a stuntman, had a film based on the same source material (Three Kingdoms: Resurrection of the Dragon) to contend with and several blips in casting to overcome.

These were namely that it was to reunite Chow Yun-fat and Woo for the first time since both had entered the Hollywood mainstream after Hard Boiled. Sadly that didn’t happen, and Tony Leung Chiu-wai (who also starred in Hard Boiled!) first pulled out due to health reasons, only to come back two days later recast in the role originally intended for Chow.

Such a torturous production puts even greater expectation on the film to deliver, and after a long, sluggish start, that’s exactly what Woo manages…

Set in the last year of the Han Dynasty, Prime Minister Cao Cao (Zhang Fengyi, The Emperor and the Assassin, Police Confidential) exploits the naivety of his monarch to start a war with leading kingdoms of the South mainly to further his power and influence in the Royal Court.

When Liu Bei’s (You Yong, Triangle, Election) forces fall against Cao, his chief advisor and strategist Zhuge Liang (Takeshi Kaneshiro, Confession of Pain, House of Flying Daggers, The Warlords) attempts to woo Sun Quan (Chen Chang, Missing, Three Times, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon) and the land of Wu into joining forces with Lui, before Cao forces their hands anyway. Sun unconvinced, Zhuge tries to persuade his mentor and army commander Zhou Yu (Tony Leung, Lust, Caution, in the Mood For Love, Infernal Affairs), based at Red Cliff, instead.

With Yu on board Zhuge returns to Quan’s scourt to unite forces, only to find Cao’s forces already underway, on both land and sea. With Quan’s sister Sun Shangxiang (Zhao Wei, So Close, Shaolin Soccer, Painted Skin) keen to put her arching skills towards the cause, the allies’ ranks take shape – but will they be enough to overcome Cao’s forces?

After an overlong and literally shaky start, all old-school Zhang Che style close ups with a stilted script and wooden leads – the film seems almost a homage to the historical dramas of Zhang Che like The Water Margin and The Blood Brothers, where John Woo learnt his trade as an assistant director – the film eventually becomes more engaging characters emerge. Leung is customary solid, Takeshi character begins to warm with more to play against, and Zhao Wei her usual feisty, sexy best (though somewhat miscast as she’s far too modern a personality for a period piece).

For true Woo fans, there are plenty of familiar themes transposed to less familiar territory, people sliding backwards in fights, a sword in each hand, doves – one of the warriors even saves a baby while still in combat (as last seen Hard Boiled). In fact you could easily describe it as historic Heroic Bloodshed! (With the mass, almost Python-esque bloodletting reminiscent of Zhang Che at his ‘yang gang’ best.) The rest will be entertained by his fantastically staged battle sequences, skilfully aided by action choreographer Corey Yuen and no doubt just the sheer scale of them, with thousands of extras.

In fact, just as all starts going superbly well, adeptly building up to the Battle of Red Cliff itself, you suddenly become aware of the running time and a ‘To be continued…’ runs across the screen. With the sequel (or rather continuation) Red Cliff: Part II just released in Asia, you wonder just how much patience we’re meant to have for these multi-parters (Death Note and 20th Century Boys spring most readily to mind).

And there’s the rub, there’s simply not enough story to pad out two parts! This isn’t Lord Of The Rings, it’s not even Harry Potter! There’s something inherently wrong with a film or sequel that can’t be enjoyed, at least partly, in it’s own right without seeing what came before or after.

And for once perhaps the West will get a better deal, with Woo allegedly to condense the two parts into one 2.5 hour movie (losing over 2 hours in the process?) A closer rein on content, with Woo (hopefully) editing the right parts could produce a far tighter, even more enjoyable film.

Despite my misgivings about yet another historical drama, even in its extended form Red Cliff is easily a cut above (most) of the rest. Welcome back, Mr Woo!

Red Cliff: Part II is currently on release in China, Hong Kong and Taiwan. Total Film list Red Cliff’s UK theatrical release as 10 July 2010, IMDB as 23 January 2009(!)

UPDATE: As you’ll probably already know, the UK release – an edited version of both parts – is due on 12 June 2009.

Action choreographer on Hero, House Of Flying Daggers, The Warlords and far too many others to mention, Tony Ching Siu-tung is back in the director’s chair for the first time in five years – but is this the triumphant return we were hoping for…?

Kelly Chen (Breaking News, Tokyo Raiders, Infernal Affairs) plays Yen Feier, charged with becoming Empress when her father dies in the fight to save her kingdom. Her devoted aid and loyal commander Muyong Xuehu (Donnie Yen, Flash Point, S.P.L.: Kill Zone, Seven Swords, Hero) begins to train her to take on her role, little knowing that she has more to fear than rival kingdoms – an ambitious cousin Wu Ba (Guo Xiao Dong, The Warlords, Missing) plans to assassinate her to claim the empire as his own.

Saved by a mysterious recluse, Duan Lanquan (Leon Li, Seven Swords, Infernal Affairs III, Three), Yen finds herself falling in love with him and his simpler life. But chaos reigns within her council as Wu Ba intends to use her absence to take over, and warring kingdoms continue to plague her territories. Soon Yen realises she must make a choice between the duty of protecting her subjects, and the dreams of a life she could have had…

Most readers will recognise Ching Siu-tung’s name as action choreographer on recent Chinese/Hong Kong blockbusters such as Zhang Yimou’s Hero, House Of Flying Daggers and Curse Of The Golden Flower, not to mention Peter Chan’s grittier historical vision The Warlords or Stephen Chow’s hilarious Shaolin Soccer, but fewer may be aware of his importance to the Hong Kong New Wave cinema in the mid-80s (unless you’re a regular visitor to the site).

With films like Duel To The Death, A Chinese Ghost Story and Swordsman II, Siu-tung became one of the most prominent directors of the era, continually breaking new ground in techniques, particularly in ‘wire-fu’, but more importantly in how he visualised scenes, creating (often bizarre) visual ideas that simply have no parallel in cinema (though many have been referenced since). By the early 90s he’d become the hardest working action choreographer in Hong Kong cinema, involved in pretty much every notable wire-fu and action film released.

His work more recently for Yimou and Chan has only proved that Siu-tung still has the ability to create exciting and imaginative sequences like no other.

Unfortunately, that only raises expectation on his first film as director in five years, and the bar is unrealistically high. An Empress and The Warriors is yet another ‘historical’, wuxia-powered vehicle in a market increasingly flooded with them…

There are some standout scenes, particularly when the assassins attempt to get to the Empress through Duan’s elaborate interweaving tree house of a home (which from the start always looked a little too detailed to simply remain the backdrop for the romantic bits). Superbly orchestrated and choreographed, it’s exactly what we’d expect from Siu-tung, but the truth is we see far too little of this side of him. The assassins provide much of the more fantastical, wire-fu scenes in the film (rather as they did in Curse Of The Golden Flower), and there’s some nice work in battle fields, particularly when one side of the army armed with shields join up to create ramps to tip the other side’s chariots – but it’s all a little sparing used. Often Siu-tung seems unable to decide whether he’s aiming for the more down-to-earth, gritty style of The Warlords, or the more fantasy led style of Hero. Perhaps the real point is this film doesn’t share the budget of either, leaving Siu-tung unable to pull off the battle scenes in the same way he did during The Warlords.

Instead the film centres on the key roles of Yen, Muyong and Duan, and the rather insipid love triangle that ensues. Never Siu-tung’s strongpoint, it highlights the greatest flaw in the movie: that like much of today’s generation of wuxia-inspired movies it just takes itself too seriously.

Since Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, films have become increasingly melodramatic, hysterical, over-acted and unable to do what their counterparts did in the early 90s: namely laugh at themselves. It reflects the opening up for Hong Kong directors and producers to enter the Chinese market, it’s a larger audience, but one that has very different needs. Often the film relies totally on its cast to pull off that melodrama, and it’s here An Empress and The Warriors fails most…

Kelly Chen is utterly unconvincing as either a princess or warrior, Donnie Yen continues to be unimpressive as a lead, and doesn’t get fight sequences worthy of his talents. Leaving it down to the oft-criticised Leon Li to actually give a pretty reasonable performance – but with nothing to bounce off! The attempt to depict the surreptitious politics of power sound naïve, particularly coming so soon after The Warlords, the romance falls flat, and you can’t help but feel the whole thing would have been easier to take had it been a little more tongue-in-cheek.

An Empress and The Warriors is not a terrible movie, it’s better than his least feature, the straight-to-video Steven Seagal vehicle Belly Of The Beast, but however unfair the comparison (and I know it’s because I’m such a fan) it’s not the return to form from Ching Siu-tung we’ve been waiting for.

An Empress and The Warriors will be released by Cine Asia on 23 March 2009.

Peter Chan’s take on the historical wuxia drama is far grittier and more grounded than we’re used to, with a fine performance by Jet Li that will surprise his critics – but do we really need another film like this?

Set against the Taiping Rebellion in the late Qing Dynasty in the 1860s, director Peter Chan’s (He’s a Woman, She’s a Man, Perhaps Love) period drama is packed with tumultuous battles, rivalry, betrayal and political intrigue.

The only survivor of a battle where his entire army was slaughtered, Qing general Ma Xinyi (Jet Li, The Forbidden Kingdom, Fearless) wanders aimlessly, believing his life is effectively over as well, until a chance meeting with a local woman who nurses him back to health. Befriending two bandits Cao Er-Hu (Andy Lau, Protégé, Infernal Affairs) and sidekick Zhang Wen-Xiang (Takeshi Kaneshiro, Red Cliff, Chungking Express), Ma finally convinces them to join the civil war going on around them when the village they control is raided by a Qing military, and the three become blood brothers.

The woman who helped Ma turns out to be Mi Lan (Xu Jinglei, Confession of Pain, Heroic Duo), Cao’s wife, who begins an affair with Ma. Meanwhile Ma and his new comrades quickly make a name for themselves with his former superiors, defeating a vastly greater force. Ma’s plans to take power and lead China away from the corruption lead him to boast that he can capture the Taiping strongholds Suzhou and Nanjing – a task that proves far more challenging than he ever could have imagined.

Rifts between the trio begin to split their vision of a new China, even as success is within their grasp – and however more sophisticated Ma believes his is than his comrades, is he truly a match for China’s ruling classes?

If the story sounds (vaguely) familiar to those with a greater knowledge of Hong Kong cinema then it should: the source material is the same real life events that inspired Zhang Che’s 1973 film The Blood Brothers. Chan has admitted he was influenced by it – even at one stage naming his film under the same title, before it was changed to avoid confusion.

Of course, beyond the basic similarities of the plot, the two have little in common – mainly because they come from such different cinematic language – save the melodramatic tone that pervades both versions. Indeed, Chan’s film spends so much time at near hysterical levels to become almost exhausting.

In many ways it thwarts much of good done by Chan’s more realistic vision of a period drama. The battle scenes are a brutal, fast-paced, giddy mix of swords, spears, guns and cannons – reminding you that these events were taking place at the same time as the American Civil War – that have more in common with the opening sequence of Saving Private Ryan than Hero, despite being masterminded by the same choreographer as the latter Ching Siu-tung. (Indeed scenes of the trenches surround the siege of Sozhou have far more in common with those of the first World War.) Siu-ting avoids his usual, and frankly wonderfully, baroque style (take some of the battle scenes in Curse Of The Golden Flower, for instance) for a more grounded style. The abilities of our trio, though still fantastic, stick to just this side of believable.

The cast spend much of the film dirty, greasy-haired, un-makeup and living in such squalor to highlight just how glossy most of these period dramas have been, even the films of Zhang Yimou. Of all these dramas, it seems closest to Kim Sung-su’s Musa The Warrior in style and tone, though Chen Kaige’s The Emperor and The Assassin seems another possible influence, exploring similar themes. It definitely adds a depth to the film uncommon in such work – beautifully photographed by cinematographer Arthur Wong (Double Vision, 2000 AD) and all in grittily sharp focus.

The acting itself, on the other hand, though solid steers towards the overplayed end of the spectrum, particularly Lau and Kaneshiro – reunited for the first time since House Of Flying Daggers. If anything it’s Jet Li whose performance stands out, seeming far more considered – even in comparison with his co-stars – that will surprise his critics. (You almost get the impression director Chan instructed him to simply tone everything down.) His character ultimately seems more manipulative than sympathetic, making difficult choices to further his career and achieve his vision of a new China. Xu Jinglei is also superb as the woman caught between the affections of two men.

Certain aspects jar with the attitudes of the era the story is set within. Ma’s chastising and subsequent execution of two soldiers who are found guilty of rape, for instance, seems to obvious a reference to the atrocities performed in Iraq by US soldiers – even if it does set up the very difficult decision Ma has to make later on with the captured soldiers of Suzhou.

Overall The Warlords is a strong example of this sort of period drama, exploring far more complex territory than other period dramas about war and idealisms that have to be put aside in order to achieve victory. It’s easily on of the best in this genre of movie – trouble is there have been so many of them, it’s hard not to want Hong Kong and Chinese filmmakers to look elsewhere for inspiration And with Ching Siu-ting’s return to the directing chair An Empress and the Warriors, and John Woo’s first Chinese language film in years Red Cliff (also starring Kaneshiro) still to come, that doesn’t look like it’s going to happen anytime soon.

The Warlords was shown as part of the London Film Festival, and goes on limited release around the UK from 7 November.

Jet Li and Jackie Chan – together for the first time ever…!

Ah, that got your attention! Sounds good doesn’t it? Except the line continues ‘…from the director of Stuart Little and The Lion King.’ Only it’s actually not that bad. Sure, it’s a kids movie, but with plenty of knowing references and top-notch fight choreography there’s enough here to keep both children AND adults entertained.

Jason Tripitikas (Michael Angarano, 24, Seabiscuit) is an obsessed martial arts fan, tracking down bootleg kung fu movies in old stores in Chinatown. Only when local thugs bully him into helping rob his favourite pawnshop, Old Hop’s, he finds a mystical staff does a lot more than beat off ruffians. Before you can say Never Ending Story (or should that be Wizard Of Oz?) Jason is transported back into ancient China. His only hope of getting home to release the imprisoned Monkey King (a very hairy Jet Li) from the evil Jade Warlord’s stronghold (Collin Chou, Flash Point, The Matrix Reloaded).

Jason is soon joined by master Lu Yan (Jackie Chan), an advocate of the Drunken Master style, the ‘Silent’ Monk (Jet Li) and the vengeance bound Golden Sparrow (Liu Yi-fei) on his quest, but will they be enough to face the Warlords legions, his ally the White Haired Demoness (Li Bingbing, Silverhawk), and the Warlord himself?

Drawing heavily on Wu Cheng’en’s classic Chinese novel Journey To The West that spawned the Monkey series such a cult hit in the late seventies, John Fusco’s script shamelessly uses every cliché in the kids movie repertoire to rewrite the Monkey King’s 500 year imprisonment and eventual release, and even size things up pretty neatly for a sequel.

Only it could be a lot worse. Fusco packs the script with more than enough references to keep the adults happy. From the quizzical looks from Li and Chan when Jason mentions Bruce Lee, to the very deliberate allusions to their old movies – such as recreating  scenes from Drunken Master with Jackie taking Simon Yuen’s role, or Li looking much as he did in his debut feature The Shaolin Temple.

There’s plenty of references to Shaw brothers movies too, from the opening credits that use their posters, to the names of some of the characters, like Sparrow, named after Golden Swallow played by Cheng Pei Pei in Come Drink With Me and its eponymous sequel. Not to mention the name dropping of easternKicks.com fave The Bride With White Hair (‘It’s actually really good!’) half a dozen times, even though it does seem to be purely to set up Li Bingbing’s character later on. On reflection Fusco, who previously scripted Hidalgo and Young Guns, seems surprising knowledgeable on the subject. (It turns out kung fu is a bit of a passion for him too).

What really makes the film work is it feels like much more of a proper collaboration than we’ve seen before, like for instance in the wake of interest from Hollywood that came from Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon’s success. Perhaps it’s just the necessity of shooting on location in China, but the crew is as full of Chinese and Korean names as it is American.

Most obvious in the participation of action choreographer Yuen Woo-ping, who has worked with both Chan and Li in the past, recreating the scenes he originally directed with Chan in Drunken Master and Snake In The Eagles Shadow, he also worked with Li on Tai Chi Master and Once Upon A Time In China.

Unlike the current trend for more ‘realistic’ action in Hong Kong movies, this is much more ‘old school’ kung fu, all tricky hand moves and sweeping kicks, that always looks spectacular on the big screen. The much-anticipated clash between Chan and Li is rewardingly exhausting squabble for the staff, as the two attempt to outsmart each other. It’s easy some of the best fighting we’ve seen from Chan in a Hollywood film, and amongst the best we’ve seen from Li in a while. Though often Minkoff’s direction doesn’t quite do them as much justice as he could.

Also on board is cinematographer Peter Pau, who won an Oscar for his work on Crouching Tiger. He made his name on some of Hong Kong’s most visually exciting movies, including The Killer and, of course, The Bride With White Hair. With less obtrusive use of CGI, this is a definite improvement on his recent work for The Promise.

Of course, with the upcoming Dreamworks animation Kung Fu Panda and next Mummy sequel (also starring Li) both taking some inspiration from the East, there’s definitely something of a trend going on here. It’s difficult to tell whether Hollywood is really trying hard to dominate the Asian box office as it does the rest of the world, or if it’s just excitement over the Beijing Olympics? But in this case the balance seems right. (Woo-ping even gets an executive producer credit!)

Chan and Li are pretty reliable in their roles, almost making up for some of their disastrous previous US efforts. And they do get to speak in Mandarin a bit for a change. Angarano isn’t as annoying as these leads tend to be. Particular standouts are the leading ladies, Yi-fei and Bingbing, who both have a relatively small body of previous work, and Collin Chou as the Warlord – though he might want to try and avoid getting typecast as the bad guy next time?

One thing that will be interesting to see is what certificate this film gets on it’s UK release. In the states it’s gotten a PG-13, which has to affect much of it’s target 8-12 audience? A 12 would have a similar impact here, though it’s hard to see what they might be reacting too (I’m sure Monkey was just as violent?!)

Honestly, I really didn’t think I’d enjoy this movie, but it’s actually a pretty successful kids movie. Surprisingly so… and if just a few people check out The Bride With White Hair, then that’s even better.

(Now can someone please tell me what the name has to do with the film?)

The Forbidden Kingdom is released by Lionsgate in the UK on 11 July.