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!