A Prince’s EVIL Plan to Gain the Throne Meets High-Flying, Kung Fu Rebel Resistance. “The Lady Assassin” reviewed! (88 Films / Blu-ray)

“The Lady Assassin” LE Blu-ray Now Available!

Emperor Ching’s health is rapidly declining and before his death, he challenges his 14 princes to find the best candidate to rule of his kingdom.  Ultimately, the 4th and 14th princes are vying for the throne but embark on different moral paths that set them starkly apart.  Fourth Prince Yung Cheng will lower himself to any ignoble scheme worth gaining him the throne while the 14th Prince, who might be weaker in strength, would be a better, more compassionate, ruler for the people.  When Yung Cheng plots an assassination against the 14th Prince, his plans are foiled by the prince’s skilled bodyguard Tsang Jing, the greedy Prince takes an alternate route to the throne by conning Han loyalists, who feel the Manchu clans have treated them unfairly by abusively restricting their power and fortune, into a plot to steal the Emperor’s royal decree of announcing the new Emperor and forging his name into the document.  By this very deception, Yung Cheng is announced Emperor and turns his back on the Han loyalists who joined forces with Tsang Jing and Han rebel Si Nang to end his dishonest rule over both the Hans and the Manchus.

The eclectic Shaw Brothers produced fantastical fights, high-flying stunts, and a story interweaved with deception, death, and melodramatics in the immersive period of dynastical China with the film “The Lady Assassin.”   Filmed in Hong Kong, the film is written-and-directed by acclaimed action filmmaker Chin-Ku Lu at the height of his career.  “The Black Dragon” and “Holy Virgin vs. The Evil Dead” director delivers a deluging epic of sensationalized kung fu interspersed with a usurping back-and-forth story of cutthroat politics and deceit and the minority that attempts to dethrone villainy with punitive justice, the only kind of justice ancient China knew to dish.  Mong Fong (“Killer Constable,” “The Mad Monk”) produced the feature with Run Run Shaw serving as executive producer.

One would think the title being “The Lady Assassin” would focus on a solo female kung-fu killer aimed to strike ruthlessly in a clandestine caper, but most of the story’s principal shoulders have an equal share burden amongst a deep protagonist cast of characters.  Leanne Liu plays the titular assassin Si Niang, a Han rebel whose father (Ku Feng, “Erotic Ghost Story,” “Vengeance of a Snowgirl”) is head dissident number one against the Manchu leaders, and the “Bastard Swordsman” and “Hong Kong Playboys” actress doesn’t become introduced into the story until about midway through as much of the Prince-on-Prince, good-vs-evil, tale is spearheaded by those vying throne-seekers with much emphasis on their guards, assassins, and the skilled in Kung Fu company they keep.  Tony Liu (“Fists of Fury”) and Mok Siu-Chung (“Nightmare Zone”) are respectively the evil scheming 4th Prince and the good-natured but weaker 14th Prince seeking the throne of their dying Emporor father (Ching Miao, “The Devil’s Mirror”) and the two give into their roles very efficiently, delineating a clear line where they stand in the grand scheme of the plot with the 4th Prince proactively trying to destroy any chance others may have at the throne with the 4th keeps in the shadows and avoids conflict; the latter heavily emphasized by a lot of do-nothing from the 4th Prince’s character.  A great deal of the first two acts relies heavily on Tsang Jing’s honorable service to the people who showed him kindness.  “Zu Warriors from the Magic Mountain” actor Norman Chui imposes impeccable fighting ability and timing but is strangely engrossed by his character’s life to serve those who he owes and we’re not talking a purse debt or for saving his life but rather a loyalty aspect for kindness, morality, and justice that contrasts against Min Geng Yiu, played by Jason Pai Piao, who initially is introduced as an upstanding citizen fighting against unethical behavior until his hypocrisy lands him greedily in the arms of a deceiving 4th Prince, twisting You to accomplish his bidding while he always subverts his lord with his own deceptive plans of power.  Backstabbings and desperate mesasures, along with stellar, high-flying, hand-to-hand and sword fighting, zip “The Lady Assassin” into another level of martial arts mania with a rounded out cast of Cheung King-Yu, Yeung Jing-Jing, Yuen Tak, Kwan Fung, Sun Chien, and Johnny Wang Lung-wei. 

Kung Fu films, especially in the 1970s through well into the 1990s, are a dime a dozen so what makes Chin-Ku Lu ‘s “The Lady Assassin” different from the rest?  One area to note is fight and stunt choreography that smooths the edges around the other contemporaries slower, less theatrical, routines with vigorous and diverse long sequences containing large quantities of combatants.  Usually, most fight sequences are limited to 1-on-1, 2-on-2, and maybe 3-on-3 or 3 or 4-on1 at most, but hordes of swords, staffs, and topographical anomalous landscapes, constructed on a stage of course, are seamlessly dynamic and meritoriously fast paced and thrilling, produced by the stunt work team of Yak Yuen, Kin-Kwan Poon, and Yung Chung.  The other area to note, and one that goes hand-in-hand with the stunt choreography in order for it to work, is Shao Kuang Liu’s editing, taking footage and just going to town with a series of cut and tapes and still coherently fashioning a continuous fight and flight, complete with pulley wires, despite its rapid strikes that might have some accelerated motion of the film.  What’s inherently captivating for “The Lady Assassin” can also be a tiring visual as the fights flare up brief plot points in between, the fights can feel a bit long in the tooth come the third act; however, the final showdown, a last ditch effort between the last of the Han rebels versus the 14th Print and his crazy-faced, hired gun Japanese martial artist levels up the violence that halves fighters horizontal and vertical.  The story’s an effort to keep up with as the continuous double crossing and changes of heart nearly blend together and too many assumed interpretations toward the fate of characters off screen can work the thinker double time, compounding the ambiguous clarifications profoundly. 

88 Films continues to restore-to-rejuvenize the Shaw Brothers extensive catalogue of Hong Kong produced eclectic films with the UK company’s latest high-definition scan of “The Lady Assassin” from the original negative and release the 45th title on a part of their 88 Asia line  Cleanly saturated and rich in beautiful coloring, the AVC encoded, 1080p, BD50, presented in the original widescreen aspect ratio 2.35:1, is a marvel to watch. The original print has been kept well-preserved with barely a flaw to note albeit a less than a handful rough tape cut or damage framed moments that are so insignificant that if you blink, you’ll miss them.  The vivid and vibrant mise-en-scene is a convergence of stark contrasts and itemized delineation that creates space and depth while also visually stunning, even with what I like to call peacock fighting, or showing off fighting.  Of course, there’s also tiger fighting, praying mantis fighting, etc.  The gain is naturally pleasing without being too thick or smoothed over.  Skin tones and gleams are natural and absolute with a sense of popping right off the screen.  The Cantonese 2.0 mono is post-production ADR but syncs well with not an egregious division between mouth movements and dialogue.  Dialogue is overall clean and clean with faint hissing here and there.  Chopsocky audio layers have clean hand and foot, leg and arm whacks and full-bodied swish and swing of sword and glaive swipes.  There’s not lucrative range with much else, specifically the ambient environment as all the audio design is done in post, with a few only a handful of moments, such as Tsang and Si Nang fishing or a few interiors fights implementing room objects require foley.  The soundscape is epically charged but not terribly memorable and there are quite a few fights that go without a score to provide the action effects more prominence.  The newly translated English subtitles are errorfree, do sync well, and keeps with the pace.  Special features include an interview with Kin-Kwan Poon conducted by Fred Ambroisine From Child Actor to Fight Coordinator as well as the film’s trailer and gallery stills. 88 Films’ houses the Blu-ray in a limited-edition glint of golden cardboard slipcover of new art featuring the titular assassin. The same image is primary Amaray cover art with the original poster art on the reverse side. In the insert, a thick, dual-sided folded poster of both cover illustrations rounds out the tangible elements. The Blu-ray is encoded with A and B region playback, is unrated, and has a runtime of 86 minutes.

Last Rites: A spectacle of soaring Kung Fu with a spruced-up restoration that makes “The Lady Assassin” that much deadlier in all its dynasty melodrama and game of thrones strife. One of the best Shaw Brothers offerings from the early 1980s!

“The Lady Assassin” LE Blu-ray Now Available!

Pinksploitation EVIL is Transgressional Passion! “Love and Crime” reviewed! (88 Films / Limited Edition Blu-ray)

Limited Edition and Numbered Blu-ray / DVD Set Available at Amazon!

The dead body of a young woman arrives at pathology for post-mortem autopsy.  A victim of a heinous crime, the bare corpse already informs the head pathologist of sexual activity before, or after, death because of the fresh semen that’s inside her.  As he toils over her to open the chest, separate the ribs, and get a good look inside to see how and why she perished, the pathologist remains in disbelief that the semen inside her, inside his lifeless wife before him on the cold medical table and under the bright lights, is not his own.  Digging deeper into how someone could kill his beloved wife, the researcher in him hits the books, selecting and scouring through records of similar cases of murderers and rapists from over the years.  Each one under different circumstances concludes in a sentence that reflects the person they have become.  Inside the mind of a killer is a long hard look at ourselves in how far we go for treasure, love, and to quench our insanity. 

“Love and Crime,” or officially known under the Japanese title as “Meiji Taishô Shôwa: Ryôki onna hanzai-shi” aka “Showa Era:  History of Bizarre Female Crimes,” is the Japanese anthology from 1969 that pictorializes true crime narratives of mostly women transgressors, as the title suggests.  Yet, the Teruo Ishii helmed anthology is not entirely female perpetrator centric as the anthology jumps ship briefly to explore crimes against female victims for a crossover, comparative distinction.  Ishii, who played his hand in producing late 1960s sexploitation and violence by directing films in Toei Company’s pinku series that showcased the two subcategories, such as “Orgies of Edo,” “Shogun’s Joy of Torture,” “Inferno of Torture, and among many other titles with similar salaciousness, was thrust into “Love and Crime’s” consolidating short film escapade with a wraparound monologuing narrative that was just as intriguing as the sordid stories themselves.  Shigenu Okada produces “Love and Crime” as well as many of the films aforementioned.

Yoshida Teruo kicks off the wraparound with a mater-of-fact narration running through the head of Murase, the anatomist examining his dead wife’s corpse (Ritsuko Nakamura), in what would be the grisliest part of the anthology, especially when that chest snaps during separation.  Having worked with Ishii previously with “Abashiri Bangaichi,” a crime thriller about a reminiscing criminal aimed to reform himself, Teruo only worked a short stint with the Toei Company but his time spent on such films like “Crime and Love” discerns a piece of the dramatic devotion that would be otherwise missing in these purely exploitative films.  As Marase puts nose to book, he unearths and internally narrates the start of his true crime story journey research, beginning with the cut-throating scheme of the Toyokaku Inn case.  Chiyo (Aoi Mitsuko, “Melancholy Flesh Business:  Sensuous Zone”) and Kosuke (Kenjire Ishiyama, “Kwaiden”) own and run the humble Toyokaku Inn but when Chiyo seeks to changes businesses and cut ties with her philandering husband Kusuke, a treacherous and murderous plot against her is formed between Kusuke, spearheaded by assistant manager Kinue Munekata (Rika Fujie, “Outlaw:  Heartless”), and executed by maintenance man Shibuya (Takashi Fujiki, “Shin Godzlilla”).  From there, the film transitions to other female intertwined crime tales of Sada Abe, a woman who would kill her lover because of love and insistence during alternative sex, the case of Kunihiko Kodaire, a serial rapist and murderer spilling tricks of his trade to authorities, and the last known female murderer executed by katana beheading, Takahashi Oden, for poisoning her husband.  Each performance plays into the intricate patterns described by their true life counterparts with either a chilling contentment in taking a life or hurdling the obstacles inward to do the unpleasantries of what is asked of them  Circumstantial opportunities and conniving plots bury bodies six-feet under in a multifacted range of expression, greed, lust, and all the other deadly sins that plague mortals right to the very end.  “Crime and Love” fill out the pinksploitation anthology with Yukie Kagawa (“Female Prisoner Scorpion:  Jailhouse 41”), Eiji Wakasug (“Inferno of Torture”), Tomoo Koike, Tatsumi Hijikata (“Orgies of Edo”), Yumi Teruko (“Horrors of Malformed Men”), and a special appearance by the actual, reclusive, convicted murderer Abe Sada herself, shot from a distance while being interviewed by Yoshida Teruo.

As anthologies go, especially one rare as true-life crime and love, or in this case sexploitation,” “Love and Crime” has an unsystematic design when it comes to the stories and how they relate to the wraparound narrative.  For starters, not all the bizarre crimes are female centric.  The story of Kodaire revolves about a male serial rapist and murderer divulging his collected anecdotes to investigating confessors and are depicted in monochromatic flashback, the same as his present yarn telling scenes.  Though the case involves multiple women victims, Kodaire greatly stands out amongst the compilation of crimes for the very fact he is a man in an anthology literally entitled History of “Bizarre Female Crimes.”  Was the case of Kordaire a gap filler? Perhaps the uniquity of Japanese serial killers is so low and rare in their culture and history that this particular short story had enough estrogenic blood spilled it avoided the short list cut.  Each story’s relationship toward the wraparound is also thin as neither story suggests a same or remotely similar pattern to death of Maruse’s wife in what is more of a random-generator selection of stories read and worked through for better understanding of the killer female psyche rather than what makes the male killer tick to hit-and-run his wife.

“Love and Crime” is 88 Films’ answer to opening the door of the wonderfully violent and sexually charged world of pinksploitation.  A limited edition and numbered dual-format, AVC encoded, 1080p, 50-gigabye Blu-ray and standard definition, MPEG encoded, dual-layered DVD, set presents the 1969 film in the original aspect ratio of 2.35:1.  With various stylistic color grading outfits, such as grayscale image for the Kadaire case story or the last case of Takahashi Oden that’s starkly cold rooted in blue and green.  There’s not a lot of mention of what kind of work went into restoration but the print has kept in excellent condition with age or damage wear kept to a minimum with nominal vertical scratching and dust speckling.  Colors appear to be handled with true reproduction of the dyed processing, rich and bold leaves no room of ambiguity of image or object representation.  Skin tones appear natural that do flirt a lighter shade of orange at times, textures are coarse and greatly apparent, even in the black-and-white story, and there’s tremendous environment or background distinction that creates an organic depth between character and their setting rather than them being crushed into an all-in-one image.  The encoded audio is the original Japanese language LPCM mono 2.0 that captures the soothing project whir during post ADR.  Dialogue retains prominence with a clean enough clarity albeit some negligible hissing sporadic throughout.  Ambience is not as enlivened within what’s mostly an isolated dialogue mix but is there to complement to composition when necessary, such as the blustery snowfall during the execution that sets a tumultuous tone of desperation and severity.  The improved English subtitles are timely synched and error-free.  Special features include an audio commentary by the 88 Film’s Japanarchy release fire starter and Midnight Eye’s co-editor Jasper Sharp and Fangoria staff writer Amber T., a brand-new film introduction and conversation by film critic and journalist Mark Schilling, a still gallery, and trailer. The Obi-striped 88 Films packaging has a very familiar feel to what Radiance Films, another boutique UK label, is doing with their Blu-ray releases nowadays and “Love and Crime” could be confused for a Radiance resemblance, but clear UK Amary has a gorgeous, commissioned, newly designed artwork from Ilan Sheady that brings all the sordid shades of this anthology to life. The cover art is also reviersible with the original Japanese one-sheet. Inside, the Blu-ray and DVD overlap in a dual-disc lock system on the right while the left stashes 15-page black-and-white-and-colored pictured adorned essay by Nathan Stuart prologued with cast, crew, and release acknowledgments and bounded by the same Sheady artwork without the Obi strip obstruction. 88 Films release comes both in region A and B playback, is not rated, and has a runtime of 92-minutes.

Last Rites: “Love and Crime” will be a love-it or hate-it anthology of early pink violence and sexual discordance because of its broad stroke theme but the 88 Films’ limited edition, Japanarchy debut is an exciting and eager look toward the future of the label’s dive into Japan’s exploitational cinema.

Limited Edition and Numbered Blu-ray / DVD Set Available at Amazon!

Disguise as the Dead to Defeat EVIL! “The Shadow Boxing” reviewed! (88 Films / Blu-ray)

Corpse Herding Isn’t Easy in “The Shadow Boxing.” Purchase Your Copy Here!

Corpse herder Fan Chun-Yuen has studied Master Chen for years, learning the ritual incantations and mastering the nuances of getting the dead home to their loved ones for proper burial.  What should have been a routine corpse herding goes astray when the last arrival of a corpse, a bald man, seemingly has issues following the simple incantations and master Chen’s leg is broken during a misunderstanding over gambling winnings at one of their resting pitstops.  Being left with no choice, Fan Chun-Yuen must herd the rest of the hopping corpses, publicly feared as hopping vampires, to their terminus with the aid of aspiring corpse herder and an undeterred woman Ah-Fei.  At the same time, criminal overlord Zhou, a casino owner, and a corrupt military leader are in search of a moral sub-lieutenant who can foil their plans and who has seemingly evaded all military checkpoints in route to Zhou, leaving the corpse herding understudies in the middle of a danger. 

The jiāngshī, or hopping vampire, is the Chinese version of the living dead, whether be a vampire, zombie, or a ghost in the country’s folklore.  In Chia-Liang Liu’s 1979 comedy-actioner “The Shadow Boxing,” the horror element of the jiāngshī is reduced to no more than a few false scares on the Chinese cultural collectiveness of superstitious fears.  Originally known as “Mao shan jiang shi quan” and also known as “The Spiritual Boxer II,” the film is considered a quasi-sequel to also Liu’s 1975 “The Spiritual Boxer” but only in association to the director and one of the principal actors and not a direct, character-connecting sequel by any other means.  The late “Human Lanterns” and “Demon of the Lute” writer Kuang Ni pens the script with Kung-fu comedy in mind amongst seedy corruption aimed to thwart tradition and principles, shot in Hong Kong by Celestial Entertainment on the Shaw Brothers studio lot, and produced by younger Shaw brother, Run Run or Shao Renleng. 

The actor who carries over from “The Spiritual Boxer” is “Dirty Ho” star Yue Wong in the role of corpse herding apprentice with a bad memory, Fan Chun-Yuen.  Wong’s character is a likeable learner who has the skills to be great at his vocation but lacks the confidence without being tethered to his master, played as drunkard and obsessive gambler by Chia-Liang’s brother, Chia-Young Liu, a longtime stunt man (“Once Upon A Time in China,” “The Savage Killers”) and actor (“The Return of the One Armed Swordsman,” “Five Fingers of Death”).  Fan Chun-Yuen tries to keep his sifu on a straighten arrow and focus on the task on hand and Wong and Chia-Liang invest that dynamic wholeheartedly while maintaining their sense of strength outside military force and criminal brutality to be masters under the flags of good and just.  Between them, a level of trust and reliance is displayed through their fighting casino goons and military soldiers where Wong needs his master to shout commands of the vampire style due to his bad memory.  There’s almost zero context on why that is but adds a melted layer of slip-in, slip-out comedy to make it unusually entertaining.  An understudy of the understudy and borderline love interest comes from Cecilia Wong (“The Hunter, the Butterfly and the Crocodile”) as Ah-Fei, a friend of Fan Chun Yuen who doesn’t want an arranged marriage but has an underscoring coyness with Fan Chun but their misadventures delivering the beloved bodies to grieving relatives proves to be difficult and much of their shenanigans to try and make their “mastery” believable in order to deliver the goods gets in the way of that amorous connection.  Also in the way are the corruptive forces hellbent to track down Chang Chieh (another Liu brother in Gordon Liu, “Kill Bill”) before he foils their transgressions, coinciding with performances from Lung Chan, Han Chiang, Wu-liang Chang, and Norman Chu.

“The Shadow Boxing” finely blends the chop-socky action with mystical folklore and comedy that’s not overly slapstick or buffoonery.  A serious layer runs through the middle of story and while the line chart fluctuates between peaks of let-loose Wing Chun and then violent sway the other direction with fleeting spikes of death and ghoulish shades, there’s never a tiresome tone of stagnating acts as Kuang Ni’s script develops and progresses upon the micro and macro dynamics of good versus evil characters, especially how Ni slyly introduces audiences to the last and bald corpse and it’s diverging acts of not exactly following incantational direction, in a mistakenly, humorous way.  The off feeling is there of baldie being of some importance but not until more third-party clues come to light halfway through the runtime and it’s by then the lightbulb begins to flutter and anticipatory wait for exposure begins.  If looking at “The Shadow Boxing” on a more comprehensive scale in the martial arts genre, the pace of fighting emulates too much on the lines of choreography counting.  Slow and herky-jerky, there’s not a smooth transition of moves in either of the individualized faceoffs or in the group skirmishes that doesn’t reflect well upon the stunt department as martial arts is the centerpiece of the action.  Every other aspect of creating tension and levity with the action works perfectly only to be lopsided by the sudden starts, stops, starts of checklist kick and punches. 

88 Films’ North American label lands the new high-definition release of “The Shadow Boxing” with an AVC encoded, 1080p, BD50.  The transfer is processed from the original negative and presented in the original Cinemascope aspect ratio of a 2.35:1.  The anamorphic lens used compresses the image, creating a spherical or rounded out sides on tighter shots, a known issue for the lenses of those times.  The 35mm negative has won the test of time with a near spotless print that 88 Films sharpens the color palette and defines the broader details with texture lacing, decoding the image at an average of 33Mbps.  There are times the details appear too texturally chiseled with the Shaw Brothers’ set backgrounds exposed as obviously painted backdrops, see the final showdown fight.  A single audio, uncompressed output of a LPCM Mandarin 2.0 mono is offered on the release.  The track comprises enough overlapping range of effects to sturdy the sound design almost as if it was an innate recording.  The instilled post effects have the traditional Chinese martial arts flare of whacks and thunks but added with greatly synchronous care whereas the dialogue, though clean and present at the front, has the expected timing issues with an intensity level that doesn’t quite match at times.  English subtitles are optionally available.  Surprisingly, this is one of the few 88 Films releases without special features other than the original trailer.  Instead, the label elevates the physical release with a limited-edition stunning monochromatic and illustrated cover art by Mark Bell with subtle tactile elements on the cardboard O-slipcover.  The same image is showcased as the primary clear Amaray cover art but with slightly more color added to it while the reverse sleeve features the original Hong Kong poster art.  The LE also comes with 4 collectable artcards, though they’re more still image cards than art.  The not rated, 101-minute runtime 88 Films release is encoded for only two of the three regions with an A and B playback.

Last Rites: Hong Kong cinema has been fast, loose, and either furiously funny or folklorically fist over hard-hitting fist and Chia-Liang Liu’s “The Shadow Boxing” takes into account both now on a format pedestal with a new Blu-ray release from 88 Films!

Corpse Herding Isn’t Easy in “The Shadow Boxing.” Purchase Your Copy Here!

A Pact Plans EVIL Revenge on Crime Fighting Heroes! “Royal Warriors” reviewed! (88 Films / Blu-ray)

“Royal Warriors,” a Revenge Tale, Now on Blu-ray from 88 Films!

Hong Kong police inspector boards a Hong Kong bound plane on return from her vacationing in Japan.  She meets Michael Wong, the plane’s air marshal, as well as her across the aisle seat mate, Japanese native, Yamamoto, a retired cop returning to Hong Kong to retrieve his wife and daughter and retreat back to Japan to start their new life.  Also on the plane, an escorted criminal being extradited to Japan for prosecution.  When a criminal accomplice takes the plane at gunpoint, Michele, Michael, and Yamamoto spring into action and thwart an aero catastrophe with the two terrorists dead.  After celebrating their success of saving many lives, the heroic trio begin to depart their separate ways when suddenly Yamamoto’s car explodes with his wife and daughter inside.  The assassination attempt puts a target on the backs of all three of them as two war veterans swear vengeance for their slain combat brothers from the airplane hijacking.

“Royal Warriors,” also known in other parts of the world as “In the Line of Duty,” “Ultra Force,” and “Police Assassin,” is the 1986 Hong Kong police action-thriller from “Web of Deception” director and “Once Upon a Time in China” director of photography, David Chung.  Stephen Chow’s regular screenwriter Kan-Cheung Tsang, who penned Chow’s “Kung Fu Hustle” and “Shaolin Soccer,” as well as “Magic Cop” and “Intruder,” reteams with Chung on their sophomore collaboration following the comedic-crime film “It’s a Drink!  It’s a Bomb!” starring the Hong Kong humorist John Sham, and a denotes a shared three-way perspective of protagonist principals while simultaneously providing sympathetic seedlings for the principal antagonists who though are coming wrongdoings and murdering up a storm of people, a wartime conflict bond between them holds them a higher level of honor between close brothers in arms.  Dickson Poon and D&B Films produce the explosive and hard hitting with prejudice venture with John Sham (Remember him from earlier?) and Yiu-Ying Chan, serving as associate producer.

Michelle Yeoh plays Michelle Yip, the level-headed chopsocky cop returning from some rest and relaxation only to wind up on a dish best served cold “Royral Warriors” for Yeoh, who then under the less recognizable moniker Michelle Khan, is the risk-it-all action film for the actress still in the earlier days of her what would be a prolific international career.  Her breakout hit “Yes, Madam,” saw both Yeoh and also then newcomer Cynthia Rothrock punch and kick into silverscreen success as unlikely onscreen partners to take down a crime syndicate.  In the Yeoh’s next film, she rides solo but only in the actress category, being a third of the good guys, yet holding her own as a strong female, lead between another prolific Asian cinema actor Michael Wong (“Tiger Cage III,” “Dream Killer”) playing essentially himself as Michael Wong (not a typo), the plane air marshal turned love sick puppy for Hong Kong’s tough cop Michelle Yip, and yet another prolific Asian actor whose career in Japanese films started well before Yeoh and Wong and has been rising internationally amongst the ranks of American cinema in Hiroyuki Sanada (“Sunshine,” “Mortal Kombat”) playing retired officer Yamamoto, a revenge-seeking justifier on those responsible for killing his family.  The level of how these three come together in a post-incident instantaneous bond borders an idealistic way of an extreme shared experience.  Yeoh and Sanada offer a cool, collective approach with degrees of vindictive separation with a layer of compassion thinly in between with Wong providing calculated lighthearted measures of chasing Yip with infatuated eyes to break any kind of monotonous, stagnant composure between the other two, yet they’re seemingly different lives, connected ever so vaguely by being around law enforcement one way or another, doesn’t seem to thwart an instant relationship immediately after the plan incident.  What’s also odd, especially with Yamaoto, is there is more background to the villains of the story than there is with him, providing rewarding elements for reason why the two men are hunting down Yeoh, Wong, and Yamamoto and seeking deadly revenge.  Ying Bai, Wait Lam, Hing-Yin Kam, and Michael Chan Wait-Man are the pact-making, behind-enemy-lines soldiers of some unknown war from long ago who neither one of them will turn their back on a combat brother in need.  Through a series of none linear flashbacks, a union of honor between them is made and while respectable and moral during war, that pact turns rotten overtime outside the context of global conflict, suggesting ever-so-lightly toward a combat shock issue between the four men that builds a bit of sympathy for them even though blowing up a mother and child and shooting to shreds a whole lot of nightclub patrons in their misguided revenge runs ice through their veins.  Peter Yamamoto wears his sleeve on his shoulder and there is this uncertainty with his character, and his wife too, that something is amiss, creating a tension that goes unfounded and sticks out.  “Royal Warriors” rounds out the cast with Kenneth Tsang, Siu-Ming Lau, Jing Chen, Reiko Niwa and Eddie Maher.

As part of the In the Line of Duy series, a strict criterion needs to be met:  Police Action, check.  Martial Arts, check.  A Level of High Intensity, check.  And a Female Heroine, check.  “Royal Warriors” meets and exceeds the bar with another bar, a no holds bar, of spectacular stunt work done by the Hong Kong standard way of action now, think later which looks phenomenal on camera and the resulting footage.  Hoi Mang’s martial arts choreography showcases a fast-striking combinations that cut traditional sparring with melee improvisation dependent on the surroundings, moving the action left-to-right, top-to-bottom by never staying in the same place and expanding the field of play with collateral damage of bystanders and family.  A couple of components are missed between that focused innocence and whiplash of violence.  For example, the playfully amorous affections between two of the characters are not poignantly shattered like precious stained glass when one is suddenly offed.  There are other examples of once a downspin cataclysm occurs, the aftershock of loss and change does not rear its ugly head.  “Royal Warriors” just pushes forth, continuing pursuit, in a rage of retribution and righteousness. 

88 Films releases “Royal Warriors” onto an AVC encoded, 1080p high definition, BD50, presented in the film’s original widescreen aspect ratio of 1.85:1.  If you own the “In the Line of Duty” four film boxset, the version in the boxset contains the same transfer as this standalone, standard version that stuns with a new 2K restoration from the original 35mm print.  When I say this restoration stuns, I mean it.  A clean-cut natural gain, color balanced saturation, and with all the detail trimmings laud 88 Films’ work, as such as with the rest of their higher definition catalogue in the older Asian film market.  Range of atmospherics challenge with a different lighting scheme and mise-en-scene cinematography, such as the pink and purple warmth of a nightclub glow or the brilliantly lit restaurant ferry boat.  Skin and texture tones cater to a slight darker pastel but is consistent through-and-through without appearing to unnatural.  The restoration does have a positive to a fault, revealing stunt equipment during the fast-paced fighting, such as the exterior stone ground turning bouncy with creases when Yeoh vault kicks one of the Japanese yakuza members to the ground.  The release comes with four, count’em four, audio tracks:  a Cantonese DTS-HD 2.0 mono theatrical mix, a Cantonese DTS-HD 2.0 alternate mix, an English dub DTS-HD 2.0, and an English dub DTS-HD 5.1.  Of course, I go with the theatrical mix to comply with the original fidelity as much as possible with any films using ADR for an immersive experience within the original, intended language.  the 2.0 mix keeps a midlevel management of the voluminous aspects to bombastic range but never muddles or mutes the tracks.  Dialogue comes out clear with a microscopic static lingering way deep in the sublayer but, again, has negligible effect on the mix.  Special features content includes an audio commentary by Hong Kong film expert Frank Djeng, missing airplane inserts which are spliced out shots of an inflight plane exterior, and the Cantonese and English trailers.  The standard edition comes pretty standard but does feature the new character compilation artwork of Sean Longmore on the front cover with the reversible sleeve featuring the original Hong Kong poster.  The disc is individually pressed with Michelle Yeoh doing what she does best in most of her films, kick butt.  There are no inserts or other tangible bonus content.  88 Films’ North American release comes with a region A encoded playback, not rated, and has a runtime of 96 minutes.

Last Rites: 88 Films’ “Royal Warriors” Blu-ray release captures Hong Kong cinema impeccably with monumental stunts, hard-boiled police work, and permeates with color, detail, and a cleanly, discernible audio mix. In the Line of Duty, “Royal Warriors” is the first, and foremost, cop crusading caper that began it all.

“Royal Warriors,” a Revenge Tale, Now on Blu-ray from 88 Films!

Yeoh, Rothrock Beat the EVIL to a Pulp! “Yes, Madam!” reviewed! (88 Films / Blu-ray)

“Yes, Madam!” on Blu-ray from 88 Films!

Hong Kong’s Inspector Ng and Scotland Yard’s Inspector Carrie Morris reluctantly join forces to solve the murder of an undercover British national on the verge of exposing a fraudulent real estate contract helmed by crooked businessman Mr. Tin.  When a small piece of key case evidence, a microfilm, winds up in the bumbling hands of three low-level thieves after coincidently robbing the undercover British agent’s hotel room, they find themselves at a crossroads; do they give up the kill-for microfilm to the police in the name of self-preservation or ransom it against Mr. Tin’s syndicate for a big payday?  The elusive Mr. Tin becomes enemy number one in Ng and Morris’s crosshairs despite his circumventing the law.  Not deterred by the failed arrest, the tough as nails inspectors track down the microfilm thieves to make their case and take down by force one of Hong Kong’s most powerful criminal organizations.  

An accelerating knockaround action-comedy from Corey Yuen (“Ninja in the Dragon’s Den,” “The Transporter”), “Yes, Madam!” is a fight-heavy, female-driven super cop emprise with martial arts daggers drawn and slicked in a vigorously lubed burlesque dark comedy.  The 1985 Hong Kong production, penned by Barry Wong (“Hard Boiled”) and James Clouse, as his sole credit, teams an unlikely and highly skilled, international partnership between a twosome of type A personalities who not only initially combat each other and then the unscrupulous bad guys and their mischievous plans but also against the historically prejudiced gender role reversals outside the borders of the story.  Action-packed choreography mixed with slapstick comedy, “Yes, Madam!” is entertainingly fun to watch and hard-hitting, produced by stuntman Sammo Hung (“Long Arm of the Law”) and film’s costar John Sham (“Royal Warriors”) and along with Sammo Hung, executive producer Sir Dickson Poon develops “Yes, Madam!” under their cofounded martial arts and action feature producing D&B Films.

If you’re ever looking for a celebrity roots film, a launching pad feature of success, “Yes, Madam!” has that inner circle, star-studded power and deliverance that not only showcases the beginnings of two presently well-known action and martial art film women but also joins the East with the West in a singular chop-socky fracas.  Oscar winner Michelle Yeoh (“Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon,” “Everything Everywhere All at Once”), credited as Michelle Khan, and black belt martial arts competitor and World Champion Cynthia Rothrock (“China O’Brien,” “Tiger Claws”) explode to the thousandth degree on screen as apex inspectors forced to work together to take down crime boss Mr. Tin (James Tien, “Fist of Fury”).  They’re fast, they’re ferocious, they’re incredibly talented in what could be considered their debut principal performances, especially Rothrock in her first feature film in which she doesn’t speak an ounce of either of the native Hong Kong’s Cantonese or Mandarin dialects.  Yeoh and Rothrock are top dog heroines in a yard full of marginal, blundering thieves caught in the middle of a grander operation.  Under incognito with pain reliever aliases are actor-producer John Sham (“Winners & Sinners”) as Strepsil, Hoi Mang (“Zu:  Warriors from the Magic Mountain”) as Aspirin, and Hark Tsui (“Working Class”) as Panadol and though they act like, and sort of resemble, the Three Stooges, the three thieves and counterfeiters embody a mutual brotherhood with background history and a all-for-one, one-for-all attitude as their minor caper turns into a full collapse of their con game.  Characters and performances are all over the board between the various groupings in the melee but does weirdly gel together in an artificial way toward a poignant culmination collision of what’s just and unjust that destroys, and unites, friendships and bonds.  “Yes, Madam” rounds out the cast with Melvin Wong, Wai Shum, Eddie Maher, Michael Harry, and Dick Wei (“Five Deadly Venoms”) and Fat Chung (“To Hell with the Devil”) as Mr. Tin’s nonpareil sub-bosses. 

Barreling along from the very beginning of an armored car hijacking turned into a bloody shootout to the grand finale that pageants the marvelous, born-for-this skill of Michelle Yeoh and Cynthia Rothrock as they plow down foes with acrobatic fists and kicks galore, “Yes, Madam” doesn’t dwindle as a debut disappointment but rather is a tour de force of destruction, drollery, and delictum prevention.  Outlandish at times, of course, with a story slightly straying off course here and there but that feverishly, cyclonic filmmaking condenses to being nothing new or novel for the reputably fast-paced, churn-them-out style of Hong Kong cinema and palpable fighting is taken to a whole new level of ouch and woah.  Multiple takes from various angles equates to the stunts being depressed continuously onto the repeat button, solidifying prolific editor Peter Cheung (“Ready to Rumble,” “Mr. Vampire”) as one of the best in the business, globally, to manage the multiple strands of film and make a coherent and entertaining yarn out of the celluloid chaos.  The crux of the kerfuffle isn’t delineated well enough to justify and muster this kind of police force and exaggerated villainy but the theme majority inside the broadly cartoonish veneer is mostly about respecting the girl boss and grasping friendship that has been taken for granted, dipped in a furiously candy-coated rouse of visually exciting stimulation. 

88 Films adds “Yes, Madam!” into their U.S. distribution cache with a new, well-curated Blu-ray release.  The AVC encoded, 1080p high-definition, BD50 presented 2K scanned and restored feature has the original aspect ratio of 1.85:1 in the Hong Kong cut. Beautifully diffused and vibrant color, there’s no hue deficiency under this well-lit production, restored to nicely detail skin tones and textures in every aspect of the lighting. No issues with compression during the rapid-fired sequence cells, such as aliasing or ghosting, and black levels are solid albeit there’s not a ton, if any, negative space to experience as even the night shots are illuminated in a “moon” diffusion. Delineation reflects a deepened background contrasted against foreground objects, creating ideal space between objects in what is mostly a close quartered, hand-to-hand combat with only a handful of medium, medium-long shots to make the scenes more realistic than choreographed on a wider frame. Two audio options encoded are the original Cantonese DTS-HD 2.0 mono and an English DTS-HD 5.1, both use ADR dialogue which incurs only minor negative separation and synch between actor and script. Cantonese track fairs slightly better with the native tongue but much like the story’s brisk pace, vocals are also quick as a whip and often times outpace the lips. What’s interesting about “Yes, Madam!’ is the score which is credited to Romeo Díaz (“A Chinese Ghost Story”) but samples much of John Carpenter’s “Halloween” in tense moments. “Halloween” comes through so prominently that it shadows and hurts Díaz’s own work, if any of it exists. Ambience tracks work with the grain with some of the fighting emphasized for chop-socky effect. English subtitles synch fine and have scribed errorfree. Product special features an audio commentary by Frank Djeng on the Hong Kong cut, a new interview with star Cynthia Rothrock, Rothrock and Djeng also provide select scene commentary, a new interview with Mang Hoi who played Aspirin, archive interview with Michelle Yeoh, an archive Battling Babes featurette, and with the Hong Kong trailer rounding things out. New action-packed compositional artwork from graphic designer Sean Langmore graces the primary cover art with original artwork on the reverse side. The disc art is pressed to promenade the two female actresses and there is nothing across the way in the insert clips. The region A playback release has a runtime of 93 minutes and is listed as not rated.

Last Rites: There’s nothing more to say other than “Yes, Madam!” A top-notch, assertive action film starring two worldclass women in the fighting subgenre who stir in the cool and the kickass with silky, smooth ease.

“Yes, Madam!” on Blu-ray from 88 Films!