A TOUCH OF ZEN (Hu, 1971)
Criterion Collection, Blu-ray, Release Date July 19, 2016
Review by Christopher S. Long
King Hu's “A Touch of Zen” (1971)
crosses several genres and explores multiple paths over the course of
its three dynamic and unpredictable hours.
The film opens with a dark (almost too
dark to see) montage of spider webs before cutting to empty patches
of sky framed between forested hills, shots of tall grass with white
fronds swaying in the breeze, and eventually to a survey of what
appears to the smoking near-ruins of the fort that will serve as one
of the film' central locations. After this extended moody and ominous
foregrounding of environment, the film's first surprise is to start
with the relatively light-hearted story of a low-level scholar, Gu
Sheng-shai (Shih Chun), trying to make ends meet as a scribe and
painter in a small town and also deflecting his mother's (Zhang
Bing-yu) hectoring efforts to pressure him into marriage. Mother and
son live in a dilapidated fort that is rumored to be haunted and,
therefore, is rent-free. Maybe this will be a comedy.
Though the appearance of formidable
characters like Ouyang Nian (Tien Peng) promises action, this
landmark wuxia (“martial hero” or martial arts) film postpones
its first fight for nearly an hour in favor of a portrait of everyday
life in a rural Ming Dynsaty-era town and the gradual introduction of
characters who will turn out to be more than what they initially
appear. Chief among them are the “girl” who moves in next door in
the rent-free fort, Miss Yang (Hsu Feng), the blind fortune teller
Shi (Bai Ying) and the neighborhood herbalist Dr. Lu (Xue Han.) Gu
also gets wrapped up in a confusing ghost hunt that never quite fully
manifests, but plants the seeds for some later decisions.
So that's a slice of rural life in the
Ming Dynasty with a dash of comedy and then a ghost tale before we
even get to the wuxia, but it's coming. Once the first sword is drawn
with that trademark metallic ring (prominently audible even when a
sword is simply being pulled out of a belt loop) and the combatants
begin trampoline-hopping through the air, Gu uncovers the real story:
Miss Yang is a noblewoman whose family has fallen into political
disfavor and Shi and Lu are the generals sworn to protect her from
corrupt government forces. The complex intrigues of this subplot can
be summed up succinctly: Don't piss off the Grand Eunuch. He's
already kind of cranky.
Hu's film showcases several remarkable
acrobatic displays, including a meticulously choreographed battle in
a dense bamboo forest. The fighters can use a sword lodged in the
wall or a tree branch to launch themselves to the sky and then spin
back earthward in a graceful, deadly arc. Though battle sequences
feature instances of close quarters rapid-fire editing, the film
shifts scales routinely, from medium close-ups to distant shots in
which the combatants are tiny figures on a stage, patiently circling
each other and sharing the spotlight with the landscape. Humans and
nature get roughly equal billing, and the film's widescreen frame is
gloriously exploited right to its edges time and time again.
The fights, many the brainchild of
martial-arts choreographer Han Ying-jie who also appears as the final
baddie, luxuriate in the athletic feats of the performers (some of
the actors could really fight, others could put up a convincing
enough show) but “A Touch of Zen” demonstrates that military
strength has its limits. The scholarly Gu is largely a bystander in
the actual battles, but he assists Miss Yang and her bodyguards in
planning the “subterfuge” necessary to defeat the Grand Eunuch's
superior forces. A crucial battle at the fort would be hopeless
without his cunning. Might doesn't always make right; sometimes it
takes brains.
Perhaps the script's boldest move,
however, is to highlight a third option, the spirituality referenced
by the title. When a group of Buddhist monks appears on the scene,
they are more than capable of besting everyone in hand-to-hand
combat, but offer a more peaceful option to participants on both
sides of the sprawling battle. Not everyone will be wise or bold
enough to accept, but the film's late scenes argue persuasively that
they should. And just for future reference, while you shouldn't piss
off the Grand Eunuch, you'd really better not mess around with monks.
Because that's not going to go well for you.
King Hu started his career as a set
designer, actor, and writer, and directed his first film for Shaw
Brothers Studio in Hong Kong. He soon relocated to Taiwan and formed
his own studio, which brought both new opportunities and new
limitations. As stingy as the Shaws could be, at least they were
operating within the confines of a thriving national cinema. In
Taiwan, most film production in the '60s was the product of
government projects, and Hu had to build his own infrastructure
almost from the ground up, founding a virtual school to train his
actors and some of his crew. Hu wrote, directed, edited, designed the
sets and costumes, and even did the calligraphy for the title
sequences, which partially explains why he took nearly two years to
complete production on “A Touch of Zen” though his much-touted
penchant for perfectionism (of Kubrickian proportions, according to
colleagues) accounts for most of it.
The film's producers were uncertain how
to handle the release of this sprawling epic, and strong-armed Hu
into chopping it into two films at first, then later released their
own two-hour cut without the director's participation. Neither
release succeeded. In 1975, the film was restored and re-assembled in
its current form (or close to it) and played at the Cannes Film
Festival where it won a technical prize and helped open international
markets for wuxia films.
Although “A Touch of Zen” wasn't as
successful commercially as King Hu's first Taiwan feature “Dragon
Inn” (1967), the two films helped to establish him as one of the
masters of the wuxia genre. His influence on younger filmmakers, even
those far removed from the martial-arts scene, has only grown over
the years. Tsai Ming-liang's “Goodbye, Dragon Inn” (2003) takes
place in a Taipei theater screening Hu's “Dragon Inn” one last
time before shuttering its doors for good, and the English title of
Jia Zhangke's 2013 film, “A Touch of Sin,” is a tribute to King
Hu, who passed away in 1997 at the age of 64.
Video:
The film is presented in its original
2.35:1 widescreen aspect ratio. A 2014 4K digital restoration in
Taiwan, described as “sponsored solely by actor Hsu Feng,” has
been the source for the film's theatrical re-release as well as its
European Blu-ray release and now this Blu-ray from Criterion. The
colors are rich and image detail is sharp throughout. If there's any
drawback, it's that the dark scenes are really, really dark, enough
that it's hard to make out a lot of detail. I can't attest to how
close that is to the film's original release, but it's most
noticeable in the opening montage of spider webs and in the tail end
of Gu's ghost fright at the fort. Overall, however, the high-def
transfer is strong, providing a vibrant, enjoyable viewing
experience.
Audio:
The linear PCM Mono track is flat, but
very crisp and strong. Those metallic rings of swords being drawn
really resonate, and the music sounds good as well. Optional English
subtitles support the Mandarin audio.
Extras:
After a successful limited theatrical
run this year, “A Touch of Zen” arrives on Blu-ray with a diverse
selection of supplemental features from Criterion.
The collection includes 2016 interviews
with lead actor Shih Chun (17 min.) and lead actress Hsu Feng (14
min.), both of whom discuss their working relationship with King Hu.
The portrait that emerges is a combination of affection, respect, and
intimidation. He could be a demanding taskmaster and work with him
was both emotionally and physically grueling as he ordered endless
re-takes on productions that lasted years at times. An additional
2016 interview with director Ang Lee (13 min.) provides a different
appreciation, with Lee arguing that Hu may have been the first
director to introduce a style-conscious approach to commercial
Chinese filmmaking; at the very least, Lee contends that Hu made the
first “art-house” wuxia films.
The disc also includes a 2012
documentary about King Hu (48 min.), directed by Hubert Niogret. We
hear from a lot of film professionals and scholars in this
documentary, though historian Peggy Chiao is probably the go-to
expert. With interviews and film clips, this piece covers King Hu's
career from his early work as a set designer, then through his acting
and directing career, along with discussion of his production
techniques and his place in film history.
A Trailer (2 min.) wraps up the extras.
The fold-out insert booklet includes an
essay by film scholar David Bordwell along with a piece penned by
King Hu as part of the press kit for the film's 1975 screening at
Cannes.
Final Thoughts:
I've heard about “A Touch of Zen”
for a while and I wasn't disappointed. A great release of “Dragon
Inn” would be the most logical follow up. Solid transfer, strong
extras. Highly recommended.
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